Chapter 16
The five of us Primes trooped into Prime Commander's office the next morning. Shelley and Mike looked as though they hadn't gotten much sleep the night before.
We had already done a debrief yesterday on the Malawi incident, so Shelley right away had Wizzit start playing the vid of what happened in Cleveland, using Mike's POV, since she came late on the scene. Mike narrated what he, Toby, and Trina had done against Mr. Big. It looked pretty brutal; watching it, I was a little surprised that Wizzit had let Mike go out with Shelley to meet JB Swift instead of coma-tizing him right away.
Eventually, Mike turned the story over to me for a bit. My narration, as you could probably guess, was pretty brief -- just the goings-on over by the band kids. To tell you the truth, I've never really gotten the hang of saying, "Now I'm doing this, and now I'm doing this, and now I'm doing this." Shelley's a pro at it, pointing out all the little things she noticed and explaining just why she did what she did, and Mike's gotten to be pretty good. Whenever I'm the narrator, though, I always feel like I'm showing home movies from my last vacation; I'm always afraid that everyone will start nodding off while I'm rambling on about exactly why I punched a Zoink in the nose.
Regardless, I finished my section and was about to turn things over to Shelley when Prime Commander stopped me. "Let me get this straight: You brought along an extra weapon, and you offered it to your younger sister Angela to use as Junior Prime Pink?"
"Yes, sir," I said, a trifle uneasily. "Because Wizzit told me to. That is, he told me to bring an extra weapon for Angie, and I assumed he wanted me to offer it to her because, well, because bringing it for her and not offering it to her would just be dumb."
Prime Commander chuckled. "Yes, that makes sense." He leaned forward with a smile. "I'm not accusing you of anything, Trevor; I'm just trying to understand the situation. We've never had a Junior Prime before, and I'm trying to figure out how I feel about it."
"Yes, sir." I took a deep breath. "I have to say, I'm not wild about the idea of putting my sister on the front lines against Enclave, without a shield and especially with no way to induce a healing coma afterwards," I said. "I mean, it's one thing if I nearly get myself killed out there, because once I get back to HQ, I'll bounce right back again. But if Angie breaks an arm or a leg or, Heaven forbid, her back or her neck, she could be in a cast for weeks, or in a wheelchair for the rest of her life."
"It would not be impossible to induce a healing coma in a civilian," Wizzit piped up. "Just . . . difficult. And time-consuming and complicated. But it could be done. Probably."
"Nevertheless, your concern is noted, Trevor," Commander Windham replied soberly. "And very well stated. All right, let's move on."
Shelley picked up the story and told it to the end. I have to admit that I looked pretty silly hanging from Mr. Big's mouth. I was especially interested, though, in Shelley's fight with Crazy Kung Fu Zombie Chick. Pretty good moves from both of them, I must say; it looked as though Shelley were holding her own against her just fine. And when Angela grabbed the Zoink and heaved it, the way Shelley took advantage was sheer poetry, as if the two of them had been practicing together for years.
"Your sister looked mighty good out there, Trev," Mike commented when Shelley was done. "Especially with no shield."
"She did well," Trina agreed. "And not a bad shot." She winked at me. "Maybe we should give her your blaster permanently, Trevor."
"That's not a bad idea," Shelley mused. "Not that we should take Trevor's blaster away from him," she went on quickly as I started to object, "but that she should have a blaster of her own. I agree with Trevor -- if we ever need her help again, I'd like to minimize any risk of her getting hurt." She turned to Trina. "Would you be willing to act as her minder?"
Trina nodded. "Of course. I need someone to keep the Zoinks away from me. But she will need another weapon besides just a blaster."
Commander Windham asked, "Trevor, what kinds of weapons does she know how to use?"
"She sure seemed to know what to do with that stick," Toby said.
"See, Grandmaster Park isn't real big on weapons," I said, trying to think back to my training at the studio. "He does the shinai -- that is, the bamboo sword -- and sometimes some nunchuck training, but that's about it. Mainly he does fists and feet."
"Sap gloves?" Mike suggested. "Boots, like Padma's?"
I shrugged. "Maybe. I can ask her what she'd like."
Prime Commander shook his head. "No, don't say anything to her, not just yet. I don't want us to get ahead of ourselves. After all, we may wind up never using Junior Prime Pink again. For now, let's just set aside an extra blaster for her use and maybe that stick she was using, or something similar. We can keep them in a corner of the weapons room somewhere. We'll make more plans later if things start to develop. Shelley, do you agree?"
"That's just what I was going to suggest, Dad. Wizzit, any comment?"
No response. Shelley shrugged. "Silence means consent. Any other questions before we move on to our encounter with JB Swift?"
"Wizzit," Commander Windham said, "would there be any point in my asking why Junior Prime Pink had to deactivate and then reactivate before she could use the blaster?"
"Simple question, simple answer," Wizzit replied promptly, "although Nicolai or Padma would find it more interesting than you would. It was a one-time change. I had to reset her badge because all her frequencies were based on the number 437."
"That would be . . . nineteen times twenty-three," Shelley said to herself. "Product of two distinct primes -- very weak, but also very low-power." She looked up as the rest of us turned to stare at her. "What? I used to be, like, the junior deputy assistant tech guy around here back when I was Prime Indigo, before Nicolai came along. I know a little bit about how this stuff works."
Figures. Like I've said before, Shelley's pretty damn good at everything around here. Wizzit went on, "The badge does not draw power from our grid the way your belts do. It works strictly off a locally-stored power supply, which made it too weak for me to adjust her frequencies down to a prime number. I changed it to 361 instead."
"That would be . . ." Shelley began.
"Nineteen squared," Mike announced, looking up with a grin from the calculator on Prime Commander's desk.
Shelley shot him a dirty look, then said thoughtfully, "A prime power would draw a little more energy than the product of two distinct primes, but much less than a simple prime would. And that change was what made her badge strong enough to power a blaster?"
"Yupperooney. Clever, huh?"
Shelley smiled indulgently. "Yes, Wizzit. Very clever. I'll be sure to tell Nicolai what you did."
"Wizzit, did you say that my sister's badge runs off a locally-stored power supply?" I asked. "Is that like a battery?"
Have you ever had someone verbally roll their eyes at you? Wizzit managed it with a one-word answer. "Yes."
"Does she need to charge it regularly or anything?"
"Charging occurs from exposure to light or motion. Carrying it around in her pocket or purse should be sufficient. If she doesn't carry it around with her, she should leave it lying in the sun or a brightly-lighted place."
"Got it. Thanks."
Shelley looked around at each of us. "Are there any other questions? No? Then Wizzit, would you kindly play the vid of our encounter with JB Swift?"
Attack Doll 2: Junior Prime Page 16