We slipped in through the front door after letting it by, and stopped short as a rag doll uncurled from a sleeping position, staggering to its feet and snarling. The monster hulked, for a doll, more than waist high. It had a metal bear trap as a mouth and a hideous patchwork body that followed no color or fabric pattern at all.
“Ignore her, dear. She’s all growl and no bite,” said the old woman, in a quavering high-pitched Sweet Old Grandma voice.
Fear wasn’t what had stopped me. I squinted at the snarling, but not actually approaching, guard doll. “Is that… a zombie rag doll? One of my zombie rag dolls?”
Her words broken by faint chuckles, the old lady answered, “She might be. Someone brought her and her sisters to me when they were left at a crime scene. The others faded away, but I managed to stabilize this one. She likes to put on a show, but unless you’re a curtain, she’s harmless.”
Cassie swept a hand towards the old man and woman in the back of the room. “My friends, meet Raggedy and Gothic. They’re famous, in a not famous way―the people anybody who knows everybody knows. Be respectful, they’ve earned it.”
The old guy, who must be Gothic, snorted self-deprecating disdain.
I stepped forward, and so did my doppelgänger, until we met in the middle of the room. I clapped her on the shoulder. “And this, in case it wasn’t already clear, is Robot Penny.”
She clapped my shoulder in return, adding dryly, “And this, in case it wasn’t already clear, is Meatbag Penny.”
“Woah,” said Cassie, succinctly. Darting forward, she pulled Robot Penny’s arm free of me. With her weapons and coat off, the joints in her fingers and wrists were completely visible, and Cassie held that hand in both of hers, bending and toying. Not satisfied, she pulled down the lapels of Robot Penny’s shirt to look at the seams of her neck joints.
Sounding a bit strained, which might be from having her head pushed back at a sharp angle, my double said, “Well, Other Me, the good news is, without flesh, this is merely uncomfortably embarrassing, not totally mortifying.”
Cassie jumped back, hands yanking away from Robot Penny’s body. “Sorry! I didn’t―”
“She’s an exact duplicate of me in an artificial body,” I explained, while Cassie looked guilty.
Robot Penny refastened the top button of her blouse, which Cassie had pulled loose. Then she pulled her pigtails smooth. “One of those ideas that I didn’t think through in quite enough detail, but we’re determined to make it work. And before you ask, no, I’m the good one and she’s the evil one.”
I shrugged, and grinned. “It’s true. I gave her a Heart of Gold. But if you assume she’s me, you won’t go far wrong.”
Less enthralled by two of someone she didn’t like in the first place, Sue walked past us to kneel down and look at the cloth dolls. The worn, gray doll having its head petted sat up, pulled out a battered, wilted flower, and held it up for her.
She took it, and patted the little doll on the head. As she did, she looked up at Raggedy and Gothic. “Why are you two not out having fun with the rest?”
The old woman waved a skinny hand. “We’re not really interested in villainy.”
“I used my powers for crime, many years ago, and gave it up with speed. My soul lacks the fire for it,” said Gothic stiffly. I got the impression he did everything stiffly.
“I’ve never been fond of crowds,” Raggedy added, voice soft, looking down at the doll in her lap. It waved at me.
Gothic’s eyes turned to Robot Me. He still looked down his nose at her, of course. “Our passion drives us rather to provide balm and succor to the nonhuman community. Like ourselves, they are often treated as villains whether they wish to be or not.”
In exact sync, Robot Penny and I snorted. “Criminy, do I know what that’s like.”
Like the shops around it, this building had more than one room. A hanging curtain as dull gray-brown as the walls divided it from another room, or rooms. I hadn’t cared until two battered stuffed toys, a bear and a fox, toddled out through the curtain with their arms full. The bear held up a granola bar for me, and when I took that, the fox offered me a can of cola.
“I didn’t even know I was hungry,” I said, before biting into the granola bar. It definitely hit the spot, as did the drink.
Old lady Raggedy smiled, deeply satisfied. “Jack and Jill have a lot of experience taking care of people.”
While I ate, Cassie cleared her throat, fidgeting as she addressed my doppelgänger. “So, uhh, Robot Penny. I’m here in Chinatown a lot with my sister and her partner―”
“I know,” said Mecha-Me, with an amused little smile. People not realizing she remembered everything I did hadn’t gotten old yet.
Cassie scratched her head, which sent electrical arcs sliding out of her hair and down her arm. “Uhh, yeah. What I mean is, I’d be happy to hang out, any time. What would really be cool would be hanging out with two Pennies at once.”
“We’ll need to clear Meatbag Penny’s name quickly, then,” said Robot Penny.
Marcia nudged me with her elbow. “Can I call you Meatbag from now on?”
I ignored that, calculating it more likely to discourage her than a direct refusal. Instead, I took Mecha-Me’s hand and gave it a grateful squeeze. “Thank you for staying out of sight like this.”
She returned a grimace. “I know what Mom is like, and how thin the ice we’re on is. Maybe better than you, since I can think clearly about it. I have a good idea of what to do next, and I’ll contact you as soon as it’s ready. A week, tops. Probably just a couple of days.”
“I’m sorry you’re not getting along well with Lucyfar.”
That turned the tight lips into a faint smile. “Better than you think. Lucyfar secretly gives eighteen percent of her income to charity. She’s much deeper than she pretends.”
Memory stirred. “Oh! All the saved games I could dig up.” Slipping a flash drive out of my pocket, I passed it over.
She rolled her eyes. That looked a little weird, because unlike real eyes, outside the iris, they were completely white. “Criminy, thank you. I can afford a replacement computer. I can afford all the games I want. Being copied into a robot didn’t make me any more patient about replaying anything.”
Marcia stuck her hands in the pockets of her torn up jeans, and rocked exaggeratedly forward and backwards on the balls of her feet. “Sooooo, what’s next? Because there’s somebody here I need to talk to.”
Mecha-Me held up her hand. “I’ll do anything if it means hanging out with my real friends. Meeting the rest of the robot community is interesting, but they’re not my age, it’s not the same, and new friends can’t replace old.”
The old guy in the back of the room bowed. “Before you leave, accept my compliments on the workmanship of Penelope, here. The community currently lacks a dedicated builder of intelligent robots. You would be welcome to take the role.”
Robot Penny gave him a wistful smile over her shoulder, one of those movements that betrayed how she didn’t quite move like a human. Her neck turned too far, and her shoulders and upper body only moved as one solid piece. “I’m sorry, Gothic. I might get a few sisters over the years, but that’s not where flesh and blood me’s interests lie.”
“A man can dream.”
My desire to drag things out for Mecha-Me’s sake won the day. “Lead on, Marcia. I’ll wait to stop you until the fantastically unwise part of the adventure becomes visible.”
As we shuffled around and prepared to leave, Raggedy smiled up at Gothic. “The sun is going down.”
“Yes, of course. Light the lights, please.” This last he addressed to a candle sconce. Other than sunlight, a fat candle next to the shelves on both side walls provided the room’s only light. At least, until now. In a ripple of movement, statuettes on the shelves pulled out their own candles. The sconce reached out to light the first, and then that statue lit the next, and so on. Each statue was a different size and shape, and the resultant wobbly line
of flames made the image all the more surreal and… well, gothic.
Trailing slightly less crazy people, Marcia marched out of the store and back down the block to the mall. She actually marched, stomping merrily, with Sue scowling in embarrassment right behind her. Paying no attention to villains, food, displays, or shopping opportunities, Marcia stopped instead in front of a stairwell door. A quick push revealed it locked.
“Do you have an appointment?” Robot Penny asked worriedly.
“Because that leads down to Spider’s office,” I finished for her.
Marcia gave her hair a flip, and thumped the door. “Oh, please, like that’s a problem. Open her up, besty.”
“That’s really not―” Robot Penny started to object again, but to no avail. Sue touched the door, and black spread from her finger like a pool of ink, then faded away into a round, dark-edged hole in the metal. The instant the hole grew big enough, Marcia dived through, and jumped down the stairs a flight at the time.
Lacking better options, the rest of us charged after her, my duplicate observing dryly, “Fantastically unwise time didn’t take long to arrive, did it?”
My new plan consisted of ‘Grab Marcia and carry her out of here as fast as possible.’ I briefly entertained the hope we could do so before Sue opened the door at the foot of the stairs, but that door wasn’t locked. Marcia charged right into the garage, with Robot Penny slightly behind and me third.
We skidded to a halt, each grabbing one of Marcia’s upper arms. Fortunately, no supervillains were in conference to take offense. Only the mistress of Chinatown herself, hanging in her gigantic web.
A black foreleg beckoned with alien grace. “Your consideration is appreciated, Bad Penny and Bad Penny, but I do have a moment to socialize. Mourning Dove will be less than pleased if she finds out you were here, Ouroboros.”
Ouro―oh, right. Marcia had used that as her super powered identity exactly once. Well, that I was aware of.
Adopting a cocky lean, Marcia crossed one arm under her chest, and waggled the other hand. “Oh, please, she doesn’t own me.”
“She, like, kinda does?” said Sue, emerging into the parking garage. She sounded sharp and sarcastic, but that might be habit.
Stepping forward, Marcia propped her fists on her hips and told Spider, “I’m not here to see you, bug. I’m here to see your secretary. My dad says she has, like, the most raw power of any supervillain in the city.”
Hefty columns held up the parking garage roof, tied together by the shiny white ropes of Spider’s web. She Who Wots stepped out from behind one of those columns, moving as silently as a ghost. With Marcia standing practically in the web to talk to its owner, She Who Wots drifted up to stand right behind her, unnoticed. “I’m here.”
Eyes alight with glee, Marcia spun around, crowing, “This is great!”
Then she punched She Who Wots in the gut.
In that heartbeat moment, Marcia’s grin pulled back into a grimace of fury like I’d never seen on anyone else, her fist slamming forward and up into and through She Who Wots’ solar plexus. Before I could finish a gasp, Marcia’s fist came out of the older girl’s back, spraying black bloo―
Actually, that didn’t look much like blood. She Who Wots’ body slumped off the impaling fist, leaving Marcia panting from the surge of emotion. What should have been a corpse deflated, like an inner tube that sprung a leak. Darkness spread around the wrinkled up shell. Not blackness, but deep shadow.
Cassie found her voice first, although it sure squeaked. “You just broke the truce in front of Spider!”
Still breathing heavily, Marcia straightened up and tossed her hair again. “Oh, please. I can fight a big bug.”
Wide-eyed, Cassie shook her head. “No, you can’t. Trust me.”
Mecha-Me, a bit more calm because she didn’t have breathing to get control of, knelt down and fingered the rubbery skin She Who Wots left behind. “I’m positive she’s not dead.”
That left me to approach the criminal underworld’s shiny tyrant and raise the customary ‘begging for peace’ hands. “In that case, may I respectfully suggest that no harm was done, and since it wasn’t possible to do harm, we grab our insane friend and book it out of Chinatown and never let her go back, a plan that includes zero deaths?”
Marcia, because you know, she didn’t look crazy enough, tried to lick some of the shadow stain off her own wrist.
Spider, of course, radiated unflappability, an advantage of not having human expressions. She certainly sounded calm and businesslike as ever. “I accept that there was no intent to kill, and no permanent harm done, so I will consider this incident a practical joke, and let it pass. That is not to say that Marcia won’t have to face the consequences of her actions.”
And with that, Abigail’s shadow blood attacked.
It took a few seconds to even figure out what was going on. The pool of darkness crawled, and Marcia yelped and started thrashing. Deep shadows that aren’t quite black were easy to miss, even when they rose up as tentacles and latched onto Marcia’s arms and legs. Marcia’s snarling and swinging her fists and kicking were impossible to miss, but didn’t do her any good. Her punches connected with nothing, and darkness crept up her limbs, restraining each swing more tightly.
Robot Penny, crouched over the ‘body,’ tried to intervene first, but grabbing at the darker patches in the air did nothing, and neither did scratching at the ground. They were just shadows, solid only to Marcia.
Okay, only to Marcia and people with shadow powers. Sue had no problem stepping up next to her best friend, grabbing hold of tentacles we could barely see, and yanking them loose.
In seconds, that devolved into a battle I had trouble keeping track of. Sue had her own shadows, and her arms jerked around, fists clenching and unclenching as she directed them. I couldn’t make out the details, but the room dimmed steadily, and that growing darkness writhed.
“Are you―” I started to ask Marcia, but stopped myself. Of course Marcia was okay. She sprawled on the ground, grinning like a maniac. Appropriately.
“Can we do anything?” I asked Mecha-Me, instead.
She spread her hands. “How do you fight a shadow?”
It was like thinking out loud, only with two people. “By turning on a light?”
“Do we have a light?”
Cassie held up her hand. A blue-white halo sparkled around it. “I am a light.”
We got out of the way, and Cassie pointed at the dark floor in front of Sue. Lightning sprang out of her arms, so bright amidst the gloom that they left afterimages in my eyes.
Result? Jack diddly squat. Sue kept fighting. Darkness encompassed her now, so deeply she had almost turned into a black silhouette. Whether that was good or bad, I had no idea. She swept her arms around, dancing a couple of steps now and then, with appropriate growls and combative shouts.
The situation clearly wasn’t chaotic enough, so the stairwell door behind us opened again, and a black cat in a suit walked in.
I’d only seen Entropy twice, and neither time gotten a good look at him. He was tall, on the lean side of athletic rather than ‘body builder’ bulky. Black fur covered his hands, head, and tail, while a black suit with a dark blue shirt covered everything else. The suit did have unusually large lapels. Maybe a wizard thing. I couldn’t see claws, but he had the head of a big black cat, with that particular yellow-eyed ‘I hate everything’ look you got on some cats. Unlike most cats, he did have head hair, short and black and parted on the side. Few cats wore silver earrings, a hoop and a stud in each pointed ear.
Forget Evil Valentine’s Day. Clearly it was Animal Guys Day in Chinatown.
He barged past us, and with an entirely human, if growlingly irritated voice, spoke to the web and its occupant. “Why are a bunch of idiot children delaying my business, Spider?”
“Abigail has had one of her little episodes, unfortunately. Gathering Dark here is doing an impressive job of slowing her down.”
Entropy
’s slit-pupiled eyes swiveled to regard the fight. His brow furrowed, making him look even angrier. He slashed a hand through the air in front of Sue’s face, and for a moment, the gloom lifted and the darkness cleared from Sue’s upper body, rendering her visible again.
“You are Mirabelle’s friends,” he said. He practically spat it in disgust.
The moment ended. Shadow returned, and Sue let out a roar, pressing her splayed hands forward toward the empty skin on the floor.
“Even darkness rots,” Entropy hissed, and extended his hands like Sue. Claws unsheathed at the tips of his fingers, while the three silver rings on his left hand and two on the right gleamed like stars in the murk.
Entropy’s powers introduced actual blackness to the shadowy mix, and the clawing and gnawing of that opaque black highlighted flailing shapes, both geometric and tentacular.
Snarl as he might, he didn’t actually seem to be turning the fight.
Again, the stairwell door opened, and another figure in black walked in. At least this one had deep crimson stripes and pasty pale skin on display to break up the monotony. Barbara, in the lopsided dishabille of someone who wasn’t finished with the hour she normally spends dressing to go out in public, barged into the garage.
She ignored me, Mecha-Me, Cassie, and Marcia. She ignored Spider. She ignored Sue and Entropy, walking through the middle of the fight as if the shadows twisting around and over her were… well, shadows.
Grabbing something invisible with both hands, she shook it. The gesture was so familiar, my mind filled in the missing details. Those would be shoulders. From the height, her sister’s shoulders.
With that sharp, disapproving exasperation you only get from family, she scolded, “Stop it. Does anything you’re doing make sense? No? It’s not real. You’ve just tricked the universe into thinking this is happening, and that’s ridiculous. Quit it, already.”
I blinked. Everyone blinked, at the same time. When we opened our eyes, all the shadows were gone, and She Who Wots stood where her deflated corpse had been, with Barbara gripping her shoulders. By herself, Barbara’s elaborate fashions always stunned me. Her sister Abigail’s Catholic school girl uniform creeped me out. But side by side, they looked silly. I felt bad for the glum, frustrated way Barbara dragged She Who Wots towards the back of the garage, calling back, “Spider, we’re going home early tonight. You’ll have to make do. I’m going to make sure Abigail gets an extra dose of quetiapine and goes to bed.”
Please Don't Tell My Parents I Have A Nemesis Page 23