 
# Girl Power

By P.T. Dilloway

## Copyright 2013 P.T. Dilloway

Published by Planet 99 Publishing at Smashwords
Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please buy an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not buy it, or it was not bought for your use only, then return to Smashwords.com and buy your own copy. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

### Chapter 1

The call comes in just after eight in the morning. Midnight Spectre is still down in the bunker, where he's ostensibly taking a nap before a board meeting at Holloway Corporation, followed by another night fighting crime on the streets. Instead of napping, Midnight studies the most recent surveillance reports from the bugs he's planted throughout the city. There doesn't seem to be much happening on the surface, but looking deeper he can always find something.

The eagle-shaped symbol that begins to flash red indicates the caller is from the Super Squad. With a sigh, Midnight shoves the reports into an icon on the desktop to bring up the call. A stern-faced woman in her thirties comes onto the screen. "Something I can help you with, Major?" Midnight asks in his trademark rasp.

"The alarms we set on Dr. Roboto's old fortress have been going crazy," Major Carrie Dalton says.

"Probably a rat in the wiring," Midnight says, but he's already bringing up the island's security system on the screen. It's easy enough since he designed it. Major Dalton is right; there's definitely something going on there. Something has set off not only the motion detectors but the seismic detectors as well. That can only mean something big.

"I assume the rest of the gang is on the way?"

"I thought I'd give you a head-start this time."

"That's generous of you."

"Any idea what we might be dealing with?"

"Not yet. Whoever's there has deactivated the cameras. I'll see if I can get more on the way."

"Thanks."

The screen goes blank. Midnight gets up from his chair. He's still dressed in his costume, so all he has to do is go into the hangar, where the jet waits. Jasper is already there to fuel it up. "What shall I tell the board?" he asks.

"Give them the usual excuse," Midnight says. The usual excuse is Rob Holloway met a pretty girl at a bar and decided to sweep her away to Aspen or Vegas or Monaco or someplace like that. A Photoshopped image to corroborate this will appear on the gossip sites by the end of the day.

He hops up into the cockpit to run through the startup routine. He hasn't needed the jet in two months, but everything checks out green. Jasper stands away from the plane to flash him a thumbs-up. Midnight nods and then cuts in the vertical lift jets. The roof of the hangar opens to allow the jet to rise into the air over Holloway Manor.

Once he's high enough, Midnight transitions to the normal engines. The jet rockets away at over Mach 3, towards the south Pacific.

***

Kate King is already at her desk when Stan Shaw arrives. He imagines Kate's been there since before the sun came up. Pundits like to talk about the "twenty-four-hour news cycle;" Kate practically lives it. If she could find a way to go without sleep, she'd never stop working.

"What are you working on?" Stan asks, as if he doesn't know.

"Bank heist last night at Fourth National. Or attempted bank heist, I should say." Kate looks up from her desk to shake her head. "You'd think after the last ten years, crooks would give up."

"Some people are desperate, I guess."

"Or stupid." Kate turns back to her screen. Stan peeks over her shoulder to see a file image of his alter-ego Apex Man in his gold costume and red cape in front of a bank vault. "It's pretty much a cut-and-paste job at this point. I don't know why Larry won't move me off the Apex beat."

"Maybe he thinks you have a good rapport."

Kate looks up at him and grins. '"Rapport?' Where'd a farm boy like you learn a big word like that?"

"Probably a crossword puzzle."

"Maybe you can talk to Larry for me. I'm honestly going to lose it if I have to do another of these damned stories."

"Sure," Stan says. He wants to say more, but a red light on his watch blinks. That can only mean one thing. "I'll be back in a minute. That prune Danish really shot through me."

Kate barely notices as he slips away, down the hall to the bathroom. There's no one inside. He locks the door and then hits the red button on his watch. A red-tinged hologram of Major Dalton's face appears in front of him. "Something I can do for you, Major?"

"We got a problem on Dr. Roboto's island. The alarms are going crazy. Midnight's pretty sure someone's up to something."

"I'll be right there."

"Don't go rushing in there too quick. We aren't sure how many booby traps have been reactivated yet."

"I'll be careful."

"I'm sure." The hologram fades away. With a sigh, Stan drops his clothes on the floor. He'll leave them in the storage bin on the roof before he heads out. First he unlocks the door.

Once he's airborne, Apex Man ponders the situation. It was tempting to tell Major Dalton they wouldn't have these problems if the military had allowed him to simply hurl Roboto's island lair into the sun. But they had made some excuse about endangered birds that lived on the island.

In reality he knows the military kept Roboto's lair so they could study it. The mad scientist had left behind technology more advanced than anything on Earth. While it might have been simpler to hurl all that into the sun, it would have denied scientists the chance to study it.

Of course Apex Man could still have thrown the island into the sun. There isn't much the human militaries can do to him, but he had sworn long ago to respect the authorities of his adopted world, which sometimes made his life more difficult.

Maybe this time they will listen to him and do the right thing.

***

Alan Bass rolls over in bed to see he has overslept. The alarm had gone off an hour earlier and he must have slept right through it. That happened after he spent half the night on patrol and a good portion of the remainder in Jenny's room to assure her there weren't monsters in her closet.

He finds a note from Sally on the refrigerator door. "Took Jenny to Grandma's. Lunch is in the fridge. Be back later."

Alan stares at the note for a minute before he remembers Sally has a job interview today. They had decided— _she_ had decided and he'd acquiesced—Jenny is old enough now for Sally to rejoin the workforce. That Alan makes more than enough money at T.U.R.B.O Labs to support them doesn't matter to her; it's about self-respect or some damned thing.

He crumples the note and then tosses it in the trash. It takes him five-point-two seconds to shower, shave, and dress. He shakes his head; that's slow from his personal record by point-two seconds. He pats his midsection, which has begun to get a bit paunchy. "Need to start working out again," he grumbles.

He is halfway across the city when his watch alarm goes off. Alan slows down in the middle of an alley; it's too dangerous to chat with Major Dalton while going supersonic. "Help you with something, Major?" he asks.

"Looks like we've got trouble at Dr. Roboto's island. I'm mobilizing the team to check it out."

"I can be there in two minutes," he says.

"Actually, I need you to make a stop first. I haven't been able to get hold of Ellis yet."

"You tried his apartment?"

"And the palace. No one's seen him. Thought you might be able to find him."

"I'll do my best," Alan says. "See you there."

The hologram of the major's face fades away. Alan leaves his work clothes on the fire escape of an abandoned building. They should still be there when he gets back.

With that, Velocity Man starts out. In five seconds he's left the city and is racing across the Pacific. It takes him only thirty seconds to get past Hawaii. He shakes his head; he's ten seconds slow. It seems impossible he can be getting fat with all the running he does, but it's happening. He'll need to run a full set of tests on his biochemistry to see if there are any discrepancies.

First he needs to find Ellis Pate, aka Lord Neptune. That Ellis isn't at home or at his undersea palace leaves only one option. At least one option Velocity Man knows about. It could be Ellis has decided to take a vacation somewhere and since three-quarters of Earth is water that is pretty easy for him to arrange. For all Velocity Man knows, Ellis might be swimming with some dolphins in the Gulf of Mexico.

But more likely he's at that atoll of his, the one they jokingly refer to as the "Love Shack." Ten years ago they would take their conquests there for a little after party. While Velocity Man no longer has such conquests, Ellis has yet to grow up.

They'll have to discuss that again later—after they save the world.

***

Ellis feels next to him on the clamshell-shaped bed to find it empty. With a groan he sits up and then looks around. There's no one in the bedroom. He can smell bread baking down the hall.

He finds Paul in the kitchen, bent over the oven much in the same way he'd been bent over in bed last night. "Are you making me breakfast in bed?" Ellis asks.

"I was going to," Paul says. He turns with a plate of muffins in his oven-mitt-covered hands. "I guess now you've ruined that."

"I can always go back to bed," Ellis says with a wink.

"Didn't you get enough of that last night?"

Ellis puts a hand on Paul's shoulder. "What's the matter, sweetie? We had fun last night, didn't we?"

"You had fun. You always have fun."

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself."

"Sure, when we're in bed it's awesome. It's just the rest of it that's getting to me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I'm sick of being dragged out of my apartment and carried halfway across the world by that goddamned dolphin of yours to this rock."

"Manny didn't try to get frisky with you again, did he? I told him you belong to me." Ellis tries to kiss Paul on the cheek, but he turns away at the last moment.

"What I'm saying is, we've been seeing each other for two years now and we're still sneaking around. Are you ashamed of me?"

"No, of course not. But you know how things are. The people of Pacifica aren't that understanding. And the people on the surface aren't much better."

"So you are ashamed of me."

"No! I'm only worried about you. If Baron Triton or one of those other fuddy-duddies found out, they'd try to have you killed. And I don't want anything to happen to my Pauly-Wally."

Ellis snuggles up against Paul, the muffins falling to the floor. The oyster shell plate is too sturdy to shatter, though. This time Paul lets Ellis kiss him. When they pull apart, Paul smiles shyly at him. "I didn't know you cared that much about me."

"Of course I do. It's been two years. You're not just a booty call anymore."

"I will be if you want."

"Oh, you."

They are in the middle of another kiss when Ellis hears someone else clear his throat. He turns to see Alan in that tacky silver-and-blue uniform of his. "I'm a little busy," Ellis snaps.

"There's trouble on Roboto's island. Major Dalton is assembling the whole team."

"Can't Stan or Rob handle it?"

"We're supposed to be a team, Ellis. You used to know that."

Ellis sighs and then pushes hair back from Paul's face. "Duty calls. I guess I'll have to take a rain check on that booty call."

"Don't take too long."

They kiss not quite as passionately as before Alan showed up and then Ellis stomps into the bedroom to get dressed. That Major Dalton better have a damned good reason for this.

### Chapter 2

Despite the head start, Midnight is still the last one to the island. Even flying at Mach 3.5 he can't match the speed of Apex Man or especially Velocity Man. Even that queer Neptune can swim faster than he can fly. That's the problem with being the only non-super hero on a superhero team.

He sets down on the edge of the beach, where the other three have assembled, along with an Osprey full of Marines. Midnight climbs down from the cockpit and then goes over to where his fellow costumed heroes wait. "Find anything out yet?" he asks.

"Someone's shielded the inside from my IR vision," Apex Man says.

Midnight grunts at this. That's another piece to the puzzle that doesn't fit. After they'd taken Roboto down the first time, Midnight had gone through to set up the security system. There should have been an alert if someone had installed the kind of shielding that could block Apex Man's infrared vision.

On the way to the island, Midnight went through every hacking technique he could think of to get a look inside. There seems to be no way to revive the cameras or to access the island's central computer. How someone could manage that, he doesn't know. Dr. Roboto himself is the only one with the necessary skills and he's doing life in the ultra-secure wing of Guontonimo Bay. Major Dalton of course had already checked his whereabouts—and verified the good doctor was the genuine article.

"Guess we'll have to take a peek inside then," Velocity Man says.

"We should wait here and let Stan smash his way in," Lord Neptune says. There's a whine in his voice. He must have been dragged away from his boyfriend, probably with his dick still up the other sodomite's ass.

"You do that, pansy," Midnight says. "I'm going to get in through the air shaft."

"I'm the pansy? You're the nutjob in the gray leotard."

Midnight's costume is actually made of a special Kevlar alloy that allows it to be light and flexible while preventing too much damage from bullets, knives, or other weapons. Lord Neptune surely knows this; he's just trying to get under Midnight's skin. The bastard would probably like to get under more than the skin too.

"You want to go, I'm free any time," Midnight growls.

Major Dalton steps between them. "We don't have time for a dick-measuring contest," she says. "Midnight, go in through the air shaft. Neptune, check underwater to make sure there aren't any hidden surprises down there. Apex Man can punch a hole for the rest of us to go through."

Midnight bristles at this. He doesn't like Dalton giving him orders like he's one of her gun-toting drones. He doesn't need the woman's permission to go in there. None of her Marine stooges can keep him out if he wants to go in.

"Fine with me," Midnight grumbles. Then he sets out into the jungle.

***

Apex Man sweeps over the jungle, but Midnight Spectre has already vanished into the trees. He could use his IR vision to see his friend, but there's no point to it. Midnight will get into the fortress. Despite his lack of powers, Midnight's shown himself to be more than capable at getting the job done.

In the meantime, it's up to Apex Man to bust their way into the fortress. He wishes they had a better idea of what's going on inside Dr. Roboto's lair. He doesn't like the idea of smashing into an unknown situation. His adopted father always told him to look before he leaps.

He lands at the base of one wall that looks like ordinary rock. Even without his IR vision, he knows there's a lot more to it than that. Most of this island is really a metal skeleton, inside which are all manner of booby traps.

Velocity Man is already there when Apex Man lands. "Better stand back, Alan," Apex Man says. Then he rears back to punch the side of the mountain.

The whole mountain shakes from the impact. An ordinary mountain might shatter, but Roboto's island is strong enough so that only a crack forms in the stone where Apex Man punched it. He hits it again in the exact same spot. This time the stone gives way to reveal the metal beneath it. A short burst of Apex Man's fire breath turns the metal into slag.

Before Velocity Man can take off through the hole, Apex Man stops him. "Hold on. We don't know what's going on in there. Let's take it slow."

"Yeah, sure," Velocity Man says. Apex Man knows for him, "slow" is a dirty word. Just to walk the same speed as a normal man must seem like an eternity for him. "After you, chief."

Apex Man ducks through the opening, followed by Velocity Man. The second they're both through, the metal reseals itself. Apex Man cries out in surprise. He's about to punch their way out of the trap, but then the whole room lights up with green light.

The room around Apex Man begins to spin. His knees wobble and then he collapses onto all fours. Velocity Man bends down next to him. "What is it, Stan?"

"Gamma...radiation." Apex Man might be more powerful than ordinary people, but that doesn't mean he's invulnerable. The evil Rad Geiger had been the first to discover gamma rays made Apex Man ordinary. It wasn't exactly a secret; it was just difficult for an ordinary criminal to get the hardware to create the amount of gamma radiation needed to make Apex Man ill.

"Stay here, buddy. I'll find a way to turn that thing off," Velocity Man says. Before he can start to run, there's a faint buzz. Then Apex Man finds himself lifted into the air, except this time it isn't his own doing.

Velocity Man is lifted along with him. He flails at the air as if trying to swim through it. It doesn't get him far. "Shit. Must be some kind of anti-gravity engine too," Velocity Man says. While he might be the fastest man on the ground, Velocity Man can't get very far in zero-G.

"We're...trapped."

***

Ellis glides through the water with the grace of a dolphin. As much as being Lord Neptune, king of Pacifica can be tiresome, he does still love the water. To be practically weightless is so liberating after too much time spent on the ground.

A tiger shark coasts nearby, trying to decide if he's food or not. Ellis taps into the shark's thoughts to tell it he's not its next dinner. He reads its thoughts, but there's nothing helpful about Dr. Roboto's island. There are plenty of thoughts of the fish the shark gulped down a few hours ago.

There are plenty of marine biologists who would probably kill to hear the thoughts of sea life, but for Ellis it's akin to reading the Facebook walls of non-celebrities. It's all about what they ate and the places they've been, all of it perfectly ordinary. He tries some of the crustaceans in the area with similar results.

He'd love to find out what's happening on the island before that beastly Midnight Spectre. Ellis doesn't know why they have to keep that fascist in the group. So he's good at computers? So are plenty of fourteen-year-old kids in Russia. They could recruit one of those and save themselves the hassle of not dealing with Midnight's macho front.

Ellis has already surveyed half the island without finding anything interesting. While he'd like to stick it to Midnight Spectre, another part of him wants to just swim away. The superhero thing seemed like it'd be fun at first. It was a good excuse to get out of Pacifica. Father had been against that, but Killer Whale's assault on Hawaii had shown the need for someone to bridge the gap between the underwater world and the surface. Ellis had been all too willing to volunteer.

After fifteen years, it's become tiresome. The "adventures" have all begun to merge into the same movie. There's some mad scientist or alien warlord or nut with a nuclear weapon and then the U.S. military brings the Super Squad together. Apex Man does his thing, Midnight Spectre tries to act smart while undermining everything, Alan goosesteps along like a good soldier, and Ellis swims along with them for support. Half the time anymore they don't even need him. He might as well just go home to the Love Shack with Paul—

Just like that, he can't move. He flails around in the water for a few moments before he sees the net. It's made of some kind of transparent material that's strong as hell. No problem, Ellis just needs to get a hold of that tiger shark—

A shock runs through the net. Ellis's body goes limp. As he passes out, he wonders how long Paul will wait for him to come back.

### Chapter 3

Midnight Spectre feels the ground shake. That must be Apex Man punching the mountain. Midnight shakes his head; if anyone inside didn't know they were here already, they certainly will now. But then Apex's clumsy entrance will be good cover for his more subtle approach.

He takes the grappling hook gun from off his belt and sights along the side of the fake mountain. There's a laser on the gun to help him pinpoint the spot he needs. He pulls the trigger and watches the hook shoot up into the air. It hits the exact point he targeted; its hooks claw into an outcropping of the fake rock. He gives it a tug to make sure it's secure before he goes up.

The ground shakes a second time as he climbs. That must be Apex Man punching his way through the actual wall. It won't be long now until they're inside. Midnight isn't sure what they'll find. Roboto's lair had a number of booby traps, but Midnight had deactivated all of those. It's possible whoever's moved in here now has found a way to reactivate them or to install new ones.

With this in mind, he pauses at the opening to the airshaft. He runs a handheld MRI of his own design over the grate to check for any surprises. The MRI and the thermal imaging lenses on his eyes don't pick up anything. He puts the MRI away in favor of the Swiss Army knife that had belonged to his father. The screwdriver attachment makes short work of the grate.

It's a tight squeeze in the grate. He's tempted to take off the belt in order to fit better, but he'll need the assortment of gadgets he keeps in there to make his way through Roboto's lair. We can't all punch our way through, he thinks.

The need for the belt becomes clear when he reaches a fan in the shaft. It's difficult to reach into the belt, but he's able to snag the EMP emitter, another of the gadgets he designed himself and could make billions on if he patents it. But that would negate the advantage he has over the common criminals, the advantage that keeps him alive.

The EMP shorts out the fan and then with the help of the screwdriver he's able to slither through. So far he hasn't picked up on any traps. That worries him more than if he'd found a bunch. Someone like Roboto wasn't careless enough to leave any entry point unprotected. Maybe whoever's in charge now isn't as careful. Or they could have something nasty in store for him.

At a junction he reaches into his belt for what look like two ball bearings. Except these bearings are actually cameras. He slips on the glasses that go with the cameras. Then he slides one bearing down each shaft. As the bearings roll, they transmit pictures back to him. The glasses compile the images into a coherent picture.

The shaft to his left goes to a tool room. The bearing harmlessly rolls through the shaft, down into the room. There doesn't seem to be anything of interest in there. The door is probably locked from the outside, but he can make short work of that.

The shaft to his right goes much longer. The bearing rolls around until it finally drops into Roboto's throne room. The place doesn't look any different since the last time Midnight had been in there. Except now a woman sits on the throne. She's dressed in an old-style Nazi uniform complete with the swastika on the sleeve. Beneath the uniform cap, a mask similar to his own obscures her face. If not for the breasts pushing slightly against the jacket, he'd have no idea she were a woman.

When she looks up from the throne, he wonders if she heard the bearing drop. Then she looks in the opposite direction. "Ah, you have both of them. How delightful," she says.

Midnight already suspects who she means before a pair of gurneys roll into view. On one is Apex Man and on the other is Velocity Man, both of them unconscious. "What of the third one?" the woman asks.

"We're reeling him in now," another woman says. She's a huge bull dyke, six feet at least and built like a brick house. Her gray uniform is cut similarly to her boss's. Midnight can imagine what goes on between the two of them at night and grimaces.

So, they got the swishy fish too. That means it's all up to him now.

***

The most direct route would be to take the shaft on the right, but Midnight Spectre eschews that. He drops into the tool room without making a sound. He finds the bearing he dropped into the room and picks it up.

The door is locked from outside, but he's able to take care of that easily enough. As he does this, he watches the scene in the ballroom through his glasses. Another fascist dyke brings in Neptune. It's no surprise they were able to get the drop on him. Apex Man is more of a surprise. He only has one weakness and it's beyond the capabilities of most criminal organizations. But then most criminal organizations couldn't have taken over Dr. Roboto's island either. These bitches clearly mean business.

Midnight opens the tool room door slowly and then peeks outside. A guard is coming down the corridor. Midnight backs away until the guard is about to pass by; then he yanks her into the room. He locks her in a chokehold. She flails around, but no sound can escape from her windpipe. She takes longer than he would have expected to finally pass out. He slips her to the floor and then locks her inside.

There are three more of them in the corridor. Midnight takes each one down without raising an alarm. This is the kind of subtlety an oaf in bright yellow tights can't manage, or someone running heedlessly at the speed of sound. Sometimes "superpowers" are overrated.

Meanwhile, the situation in the throne room is getting worse. A couple more lesbian helpers have brought in what looks like a death ray from an old science fiction movie. They arrange it so the barrel is sighted over the three superheroes. Midnight isn't sure what it will do, but he knows it won't be good.

For that reason, he doesn't head straight to the throne room. Instead he heads for the generator room. Roboto's island runs on geothermic energy tapped from beneath the ocean floor. Midnight opens the door to find the four huge generators all working. The room is otherwise empty.

His portable EMP device doesn't have enough power to disable the generators by itself. It needs a larger source of energy—like one of the generators in the room. He breaks open a panel on the nearest generator and then sets to work. Two minutes later, everything is ready.

He sets a timer on the EMP to give him time to get clear before it goes off. He doesn't want all the gear on his person to get fried while he might still need it. He bolts out of the generator room and is all the way to the throne room before everything goes dark.

In the land of the blind a man with a set of nightvision goggles is king, he thinks, amending the old saying. He hopes the death ray or whatever the hell it is is also run by the generators. If not, his comrades could already be dead before he can get inside.

No longer concerned with subtlety, Midnight takes a wad of plastique from a pouch on his belt. He gets a safe distance before it blows a hole the size of a typical doggie door in the doors. That should be good enough for his purposes.

He barely manages to slide through the opening. "Get down there and bring the power back online," the head dyke shouts, no doubt to her lieutenant.

The lieutenant isn't going to make it. As she staggers towards the door, Midnight seizes her by one arm and flings her hard into a wall. The woman grunts before she hits the floor, out cold. The head bitch takes an old school Luger from her belt. "Sasha? Sasha?"

"You'll have to wait until the arraignment to talk to her," Midnight growls. He throws his voice to draw the woman the wrong direction.

"You must be Midnight Spectre," she says without missing a beat. "Very nice work."

"Always nice to meet a fan," he says, throwing his voice from another direction to further confuse her.

He's about six inches away from her, the Luger pointed in the opposite direction, when she shouts, "Lights!"

Midnight screams and drops to his knees as the entire world goes white around him. While still on his knees, he feels the cold steel of the Luger against his forehead. "Now let me introduce myself. I am the Feminazi."

***

Like many a villain, the Feminazi is all too happy to talk as her henchmen tie Midnight Spectre to a gurney like the others. Sasha glares at him as she binds Midnight's wrists and ankles. She'd probably like to do a lot more, but she doesn't.

"I had a back-up light system installed for this very purpose. It runs on a secondary generator hidden beneath the throne," the Feminazi explains.

"Pretty forward-thinking of you," Midnight grumbles. He turns his head to see Velocity Man's body twitching. He's trying to accelerate his molecules enough to break through the chains holding him down. Apex Man gives a little groan; from the greenish tint to his chains there must be gamma radiation in them. Midnight's own bonds are ordinary nylon rope. No problem to cut through with the razors built into the bottom sides of his gloves. All he needs is to get his wrists turned slightly and then shake them.

First he lets the Feminzai talk a little more. It might provide some useful information and it gives Velocity Man time to work on his bonds. Two of them would be more effective than one.

"I'm sure you want to know what this device here is. I don't know how to describe it myself. It's an alien artifact Dr. Roboto restored and stashed away. I can't tell you how it works, but I can tell you it's going to change the world."

"So what are you going to do, kill all the men on the planet? Brainwash them to be your sex slaves?"

"Nothing so drastic. We're going to start a revolution. A real sexual revolution. And this time we'll win. With your help."

"Sorry lady, we don't help crazy."

"You won't have a choice."

"Yeah?" Velocity Man is still working on his chains, but Midnight decides he's waited long enough. He triggers the razors on his gloves. They slice through the ropes as if they were butter. He lifts his right wrist to fire the razors in the general direction of the Feminazi while he uses the left razors to slice the bonds on his ankles.

He rolls off the gurney into a crouch. He's just in time to flip Sasha over the gurney in a judo throw. Then he makes for the Feminazi—

The death ray fires. The entire room erupts in pink light. Midnight feels a wave of heat wash over his body, but it doesn't destroy him. Nothing seems to happen at first.

Then his entire body lights up in pain. With another scream, he drops to his knees at the Feminazi's feet. There's something wrong with his scream; it sounds as if he's been sucking helium. He hears two similarly high-pitched screams from Velocity Man and Apex Man.

Midnight turns to them, but his cowl drops over his eyes. He wants to brush it back, but his suit has become as heavy as lead. It feels about five sizes too big as well—except the upper chest that feels tight.

By now he can tell his hands are where his forearms were in the sleeves of his suit a minute earlier. There's no hope trying to fight like this, so he goes to Plan B, his failsafe. He flails around until he hits the button on his belt. Then he collapses onto one side to writhe in pain.

The cowl is yanked back from his head. The bright pink light has faded; the ray gun has gone silent. The Feminazi looks down at him with a smug grin plastered to her face. She puts a hand to Midnight's cheek. "Looks like everything has worked beautifully," she says.

Before Midnight can make a witty comeback, the wall behind the Feminazi collapses. The fireball that used to be Midnight's jet bursts through the opening. He manages to curl into a ball to let the flames wash over him. From the Feminazi's scream, she isn't so lucky.

A squad of soldiers bursts into the room through the hole made by the jet. Midnight is too weak to greet them at the moment. His entire world is fading to black now. Before he goes under, he hears a soldier say, "Holy shit! Is that them?"

Then Major Dalton is at his side. "It's going to be all right, Rob."

He tries to nod but isn't sure he does before he passes out.

### Chapter 4

Midnight hears unfamiliar voices all around. This triggers his finely honed instincts. He has to wake up and get out of here. Major Dalton might know his true identity, but he wants to keep that list as short as possible. He doesn't need some grunt blabbing to his wife or buddies or selling that information to a gossip site—or one of Midnight Spectre's many enemies.

He tries to sit up but can't. He's strapped down. No problem. He just has to use the razors again—

From the lack of weight he knows he isn't wearing his suit anymore. All of his equipment is gone. From the steady hum and beeping of machines, he figures he's in a hospital. Great, now some sawbones and a bunch of gossiping nurses will know who he is, unless Major Dalton comes up with a decent cover story to explain why billionaire playboy Rob Holloway happens to be in a hospital in the South Pacific. A skydiving or boating accident maybe? That would fit Rob Holloway's profile.

With a groan that doesn't sound right to his ears, he opens his eyes. There's a pink blanket pulled up over his body so he can't see anything except a bulge at about the top of his chest. What the hell? Did someone leave a pillow there?

He tries to sit up, but he still can't move. All he can do is whip his head around. This causes a sweep of red hair to fall over half his face. The hair curves all the way to the middle of his chest.

The pieces begin to fall into place. Midnight screams. It's a high-pitched scream—a girl's scream.

A nurse is beside the bed in an instant. She bends down and puts a hand to Midnight's forehead. "Easy now, sweetheart. It's going to be fine. Just try to relax and I'll fetch the doctor."

"What the hell have you done to me?" Midnight shouts.

A door bangs open. Major Dalton appears in Midnight's vision. "It's all right, Rob. You're safe now. Try to calm down and I'll explain everything. At least as much as I can."

As much as she doesn't want to, Midnight relaxes in the bed. To her surprise, tears are dripping down her cheeks. She hasn't cried since her parents died twenty-five years ago. The nurse starts to wipe at the tears, but Major Dalton shoos her away. "Give us a few minutes before you bring Dr. Harken in here," she says.

Midnight waits until the door closes before she says, "That ray gun of the Feminazi's. It made me into a girl, didn't it?"

"I'm afraid so. From what Dr. Harken says it did a pretty thorough job of it. You're one hundred percent female now."

The major reaches beside the bed and then holds up a hand mirror so Midnight can get the confirmation. In the mirror she sees the narrow, soft face of a young woman. At the moment her freckled cheeks and eyes are red as she cries. The girl in the mirror looks like she's about fourteen, though the breasts pushing against the blanket would indicate she's older than that.

"Shit," Midnight mutters and then sniffles. Her long hair flips again as she nods her head. "You think you can undo these straps?"

"You promise not to go running off? Dr. Harken still needs to do some tests."

"I don't think I could get far if I wanted to," Midnight says. Her body feels almost numb right now, a combination of the physical and mental trauma from the radical change.

Major Dalton undoes the straps and then thrusts a remote into Midnight's hand so she can tilt the bed into a sitting position. With her other hand, Midnight peels the blanket back to see a girl's body clad in a pink gown. Her bare feet leave about a foot extra space on the bed; how tall is she now: five-two, five-three? It can't be much more than that.

"The machine—"

"It's gone. We gathered up what pieces we could and sent them to T.U.R.B.O. Labs for study. I'm not sure they'll be able to figure it out, especially without Alan."

"Alan's gone? Is he—?"

"Dead? No. I'll have the nurse fetch a chair so you can see for yourself."

***

The others are in an adjoining room. The three of them are lined up in beds like Midnight had been. And like her, they all have breasts and long hair now. She's certain beneath the blankets they have a lot more than that too. She feels her face warm as she glances down between her legs, where there's now only a slit.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she mumbles. Major Dalton manages to get her a bedpan an instant before she throws up. Since she hasn't eaten anything in hours—days perhaps—there's only yellow bile. As Midnight pukes, Major Dalton holds back her hair as if she were a drunk girl who drank too much at a party.

"We'd better get you back to the room."

"Wait. Why are they all together like this and I have a private room?"

"Something told me you'd be the first one to wake up."

"Uh-huh." Midnight uses her scrawny arms to wheel forward, over to the bed of a woman with long black hair. Despite the differences in the cheekbones and jaw, it's clearly still Apex Man—or Apex Woman now, she supposes. "Is she...does she have all the same abilities?"

"We can't be sure, but it seems like it. Same for the other two. It's basically like someone switched a Y to an X chromosome. Otherwise they have the same DNA, blood type, fingerprints, all that."

"That's impossible," Midnight says. Then she remembers the Feminazi said it was alien technology Dr. Roboto had recovered. Who knew what sort of crazy invention could come from that? She turns the wheelchair to face Dalton. "What happened to the Feminazi?"

"The ringleader of those fascist gals? They're still scraping her off the throne room floor."

"Oh. Shit. Then we need to talk to Roboto. He knows what this device is—"

Dalton stops Midnight before she can wheel to the door. "Hold on. You're not going anywhere except back to bed."

"We have to interrogate him—"

"We will. Or I will at any rate. You're staying here until Dr. Harken says you're up to traveling."

"I can't just lie around like this—"

Dalton kneels down to look Midnight in the eye. "Rob, stop it. You're in no shape to go anywhere right now."

Midnight tries to show her by attempting to wheel forward, but Dalton needs only to plant one boot against the right wheel to stop her from going anywhere. "Get out of my way!"

"See, you can't even get out of this room. Now come on, let's get you to bed. I have a nasty feeling your friends are going to wake up soon."

***

A scream not only wakes Midnight up, it shakes the entire room like an earthquake. Right away Midnight knows Apex still has her powers; no one else could make a noise like that. A smaller scream accompanies this.

Midnight is already on her feet. She tries to take a step, but her shorter, scrawnier legs fail her. She drops to her knees. Like an invalid she crawls over to the wheelchair Dalton left in the room. It takes every ounce of her feeble strength to hoist herself into the chair.

By the time she's seated, she wants to go back to bed, but she forces herself to wheel next door. Dalton's already beat her to it, along with a trio of nurses and a fat, bald man in a white coat who must be the doctor. Apex is on her feet, eyes blazing red and fists clenched.

"What is going on here? What's happened to us?"

"Take it easy, Stan. I can explain. Somewhat," Dalton says.

"It was an alien device," Midnight says. She hates how squeaky her voice sounds now, like a cartoon mouse. "Some nutjob feminist and her gang used it to make us girls."

Apex's eyes smolder and then return to normal. "Rob?"

"Yes. It's me."

"Oh my God!" a voice calls out. Velocity Man—or Woman—has her blanket raised and looks down at her new body. "Is this some kind of nightmare?"

"It's plenty real," Dalton says. "I need you two to relax before Dr. Harken here has to sedate you."

"Go ahead and try," Apex snaps.

"Come on, Stan, what are you going to do: bust out of a military hospital and go on a rampage? What good will that do?" Midnight says. She had been prepared to do the same thing two hours ago, but had seen the logic of Dalton's argument. Someone like Apex or Velocity especially couldn't go running around half-cocked—or no-cocked as it were.

Apex's fists unclench. "No, I suppose not." She collapses on the bed, which sends it crashing to the floor. Tears spring to her eyes, though Midnight doubts it's from the pain.

"It could be worse," Neptune says. She holds a mirror to stare at her face. "At least we aren't ugly. _Most_ of us anyway." She glares at Midnight as she says this.

Midnight forces herself up from the chair. "You still want to go?"

"I don't beat up _children_ ," Neptune says with a sneer.

"Oh yeah?"

"Stop it!" Velocity shrieks. "Someone tell me what the hell happened."

Dalton does so. By the time she finishes, Velocity is sobbing. "You mean you can't change us back?"

"At the moment, no, but—"

"What the hell am I supposed to tell my wife? And Jenny? Shit, how long have we been gone? I have to call them—"

"That's not a good idea," Dalton says. "We'll have Ralph at the lab give them a call. Tell them you've been sent out on a rush project out of cell range."

"The hell with that!" Velocity gets to her feet. She tries to make a run for it, but manages only two steps before she trips just as Midnight did. Before she can get up again, Dr. Harken stabs a needle in her arm.

Apex steps towards the doctor. "What did you do that for?"

"We can't have any of you leaving here," Dalton says. "Not until we've prepared for it."

"Prepared how?"

"I've been discussing that with the Pentagon. Until I hear back, you're all confined to this hospital. And no phone calls, emails, text messages, or contact of any kind with the outside world. As of now the four of you are under house arrest."

"I don't think you want to try that, Major," Apex says. Her voice might be higher in pitch, but it still drips with authority.

Major Dalton takes a remote from her belt. She presses a button. Instantly the room floods with green light. Apex drops to her knees, wailing in pain. "You...can't keep...me here."

"Stan, we can do this the hard way or the easy way. Promise to cooperate and the light goes off. Or we can take you to the solitary room and flood the whole place with gamma rays. Understand?"

Apex's fists clench. Her eyes light up again. She tries to get to her feet, but can't. Between the change and the gamma rays, she's too weak. She finally nods. "You win...for now."

"Good." Dalton presses a button on the remote. The room returns to normal. "I want your word you won't try to escape."

"I promise."

"Thank you. I know I can take Stan Shaw's word at face value. But just in case, you should know we have this entire basement rigged to lock down and fill with gamma rays strong enough to turn every normal person down here to ash."

"I understand," Apex mumbles. She rolls back onto her bed and sobs. Midnight can't really blame her at the moment.

### Chapter 5

It's twelve hours later when Major Dalton gathers them in a lounge. Midnight notes the doors are locked with two armed guards posted outside. No doubt Dalton has that gamma ray trigger of hers too. For the moment no one's tried to break out, but from the way Velocity twitches, she's itching to try.

They each sit on a plastic chair facing Dalton, who sits with her chair backwards, a pose that's never made sense to Midnight. Dalton motions to a box on a table between them. "Your new lives are in there, ladies. We've created new passports, birth certificates, and the rest. I'll be going over your cover stories to drill them into you until it's like you really were born with a vagina."

Midnight's face warms though she knows it shouldn't at the mention of that piece of anatomy. She used hers for the first time eight hours earlier. She had expected some pain, but everything had flowed naturally without difficulty. She found that more disturbing than comforting.

Dalton reaches into the box to take out one stack of papers. She hands these to Apex. "From now on—at least until we can reverse this—your name is Starla Marsh. The computer generated it based on your old name and names of dead people we could piggyback on."

Apex—Starla—says nothing to this. She begins to scan over the documents. Dalton hands a pile of papers to Velocity. "You're Allison Sable. And Ellis is now Elise Gold."

"Cute," Elise says. She's had the easiest time coping with the change so far; Midnight suspects it's because she largely had a girl's sensibilities when she was a man.

"Rob, I didn't see much need to change yours." Dalton hands over the documents. Midnight's cheeks warm again as she sees the full name is mostly the same as before: Robin Holloway. The only difference is the middle name has changed from James to Jane.

What's more damning is the new date on her birth certificate. "Seventeen? I'm not seventeen!"

"The geniuses at the Pentagon determined that based on your height, weight, and other characteristics. I tried to push them to eighteen, but they didn't listen," Dalton says.

"Too bad, kid," Elise says. She pats Midnight on the head, which prompts Midnight to get to her feet. When Elise stands, she's a good six inches taller and probably twenty pounds heavier. No matter, Midnight has taken on larger opponents before.

Dalton gets between them. "That's enough, ladies. This is no time for bickering."

"How soon until we can get out of here?" Allison asks.

"I'm not sure." Dalton clears her throat. "I'm not sure you people understand the gravity of the situation. We can't just tell the world that its four greatest superheroes have turned into women. There'd be panic in the streets. All our enemies—yours and America's—would decide to take a poke at us to see if they could get away with it. So until we can reverse this, we have to keep it Top Secret."

"How long are we supposed to keep my family in the dark? And what about Stan's—Starla's—job at the newspaper? And Elise's people in Pacifica? How long you think you can keep them fooled?"

Midnight feels another damnable surge of emotion that Allison doesn't mention her. Maybe she doesn't have a wife or child or kingdom, but she has Jasper and her job with Holloway Corporation. What's she supposed to tell them now? Especially since at seventeen she can't even legally sign a contract; she'll need a legal guardian—

"Rob, what's wrong?" Dalton asks.

"It's nothing," Midnight says. She wipes furiously at her cheeks. "Just these stupid hormones."

"Right. That's another thing. This is going to be a huge adjustment for you all. Being a woman isn't easy. I've been doing it nearly forty years and it's still a pain in the ass. And you gals don't have the luxury of a normal childhood to learn the ropes. That's why the Pentagon decided to bring in a heavy hitter to help us."

The door opens and in comes a woman of the type Midnight used to routinely take to bed in order to keep the tabloids sated. She has the long legs, hourglass figure, enormous breasts, and long blond hair of a supermodel—or Barbie doll. Her face has the taut skin of someone who's had one too many Botox injections and facelifts to keep Father Time at bay.

Elise squeals like a girl at a One Direction concert and leaps to her feet. If she had a pen and paper, she would probably offer it to the woman. "Oh my God, you're Samantha Cash! I loved you on _Extreme Model Makeover_."

"Thanks, it's always good to meet a fan," Cash says. Midnight cringes as she remembers making that same lame joke to the Feminazi before she blinded him.

Cash surveys the room, her gaze stopping on Midnight. "Looks like we've got our work cut out for us."

***

Over the next two weeks they attend what Cash refers to as "finishing school." What it finishes is killing any self-respect Midnight might still have. She yearns to wake from this nightmare and to find herself back at the mansion with her penis still attached.

The first day Dr. Harken does a guest lecture on female anatomy. He tells them all about their new parts: the breasts, vagina, ovaries, and uterus that make them girls instead of boys. Cash joins in when he gets to talking about periods, PMS, and everything else to do with that fun time of the month for women.

"This one photo shoot I was doing for _Vogue_ in Bermuda they wanted me to wear a white bathing suit. Right in the middle of the shoot they had to stop because there were red spots showing. I was sooo embarrassed."

Elise laughs like this is the funniest thing ever. She and Cash have become fast friends; it probably helps that Elise looks like Cash's little sister. Or Cash looks like what Elise will twenty years from now if she's still a woman.

The ultimate embarrassment is to have Cash supervise while they try out tampons and maxi pads. She shakes her head at Midnight. "Sweetie, you have to get it up in there. Don't be shy."

"I'm not _shy_ ," Midnight growls. "I'm just not as comfortable shoving things up my orifices as Elise is."

"Other than that stick you always have up your ass," Elise says and snaps her fingers.

Midnight resists the urge to shove something up another of Elise's orifices. With her eyes closed, she gets the tampon inside, until Cash is satisfied. She removes it the second Cash turns her back.

Day Two Cash takes over to discuss grooming. She uses Elise as her mannequin to practice brushing and styling her hair. "Why can't I just cut it off?" Midnight whines. Her long red hair has become tangled and greasy since she woke up, plus it constantly gets in her face when she walks or turns her head.

"Now, sweetie, you don't want to look like a boy, do you?"

"I don't care."

"But it's so pretty."

"I don't want to be pretty!"

"You don't have to worry about that," Elise says. Starla and Allison get between them before anything can happen.

So far Starla and Allison have remained relatively quiet. They follow the lessons and do what they need to by rote. Midnight knows they aren't any happier about this than she is. Allison especially must want to get out of here.

At lunch, while Elise and Cash blather about Cash's glory days, Midnight sits with Starla and Allison. She leans forward to whisper, "Why are we still here? Let's blow this Popsicle stand and go home."

"We can't," Starla says.

"Come on, all you have to do is punch a hole in the wall and fly out of here. Allison can run out of here before they can even raise their guns."

"I promised the major I wouldn't leave," Starla says. Despite how her face has changed, it still has that same dopey earnestness to it when she says things like this.

"So what? The major also threatened to kill everyone in this prison. You really think you should worry about a promise made to someone like that?" Midnight turns to Allison. "Al, I know you're with me. You want to go home, don't you?"

Allison looks down at her tray. She must have one of those emotional surges as tears sparkle in her eyes. "I do, but how can I? Look at me. What am I supposed to tell Sally and Jenny?"

"If they love you, what difference does it make? They'll be happy you're alive."

"Maybe." Allison sniffles. "For now I think I'll let things play out."

"Am I the only one who still has some balls?" Midnight shouts. "They have us locked up like prisoners! Like all those punks we busted! How can you sit here and take it?"

"What choice do we have?" Starla says. "Major Dalton is right: if the world finds out, it'll be bedlam. We're better off in here until we can figure out what to do."

A hand takes hold of Midnight's shoulder. She tries to shake it off, but it's too strong for her. "I think that's enough, Robin," Dalton says.

"Don't call me that! There's a reason I never used that name before."

"Fine, Rob. I think we need to talk in private."

"Afraid to say it in front of witnesses?"

"You can come with me peacefully or I can drag you there by the ear like my five-year-old niece."

"Fine," Midnight says with a huff. She stomps after Dalton into the lounge where they took their lessons. Midnight drops onto a chair. She tries to cross her arms, but her stupid breasts keep getting in the way. "What do you want?"

"Look, Rob, I get it. You're angry. You kind of got the short end of the stick on this. But I need you to get on board."

"Why?"

"Because I care about you. I want what's best for you. And right now that's to accept that this change is most likely permanent, unless you use those billions of yours for some surgery."

Midnight snorts at this. She's considered this a few times late at night, but always casts the thought aside. If she got sex change surgery she'd still be a scrawny little seventeen-year-old; she'd just have a fake penis. "I don't want that."

"Then what other options are there?" Dalton stares at her until Midnight can't take it and has to look away. "You're one of the smartest people I know, Rob. You already know the score. You know sooner or later you're going to have to accept what's happened. I think right now you're too scared."

"Of what?"

"I don't know, maybe that you might like it."

"That's not likely."

"Then what do you have to worry about? If nothing else, go through the motions. Stop giving Elise and Ms. Cash such a hard time. Stop being such a pain in my ass."

"Why? So you can keep us locked up in here?"

"You're locked up in here for your own protection. What do you think will happen if Clownface or Ion Girl or Major Carnage finds out the mighty Midnight Spectre is a little girl now? They'll be running wild—and not just them—"

"Yeah, you said that already."

"I'm hoping maybe this time it'll get through that thick skull of yours." Dalton comes over to put a hand on Midnight's shoulder; this time it's loose enough for her to shake it away. "Listen, sweetheart, it could be a lot worse. You could have ended up three hundred pounds with a club foot and halitosis."

"I'm so lucky."

"Can you at least promise me you'll stop interrupting Ms. Cash's lessons? It's hard enough for Allison and Starla to adjust without you trying to incite a riot."

"Is that all, Principal Dalton? Can I go back to class now?"

"Sure. I'll write you a hall pass."

Midnight sighs and then trudges back to her room to take a nap before she has to go through another of Cash's lectures.

### Chapter 6

The second week of finishing school is dedicated to clothes. Midnight has already learned about basic underpants, but Cash insists on making them try out a wide variety of underwear. Midnight notices Allison and especially Starla are even more embarrassed than she is.

It gets worse when Cash brings out the bras. "You gals aren't always going to be stuck in this place. When you do get to go outside, you'll need these to support your girls."

"Do you have a training bra for Robin?" Elise asks with a smug grin.

Midnight lets this remark pass in the interest of demonstrating more control to Major Dalton. She'll bide her time and then wait for the right time to pay Elise back. It's hard when Cash pats her on the shoulder. "Now now, Robin has very nice breasts for a girl her age. Not as nice as mine back in the day, but very good for an _average_ girl."

Midnight resists the urge to put Cash in a chokehold. Even with her reduced strength, she's certain she can snap Cash's scrawny neck before any of Dalton's goons can get in here. Starla or Allison might try to stop her, or they might not. No, she just has to keep biding her time.

The bra she does receive is plain white with thick wires at the bottom. "Is this a push-up bra?"

Cash pats her on the shoulder again. "Nothing wrong with a little help, sweetie."

The benefit of years of posing as a billionaire playboy is Midnight has a lot of experience in taking bras off. It's not too difficult to reverse engineer the process. The bra is a little loose in the front while the wires at the bottom bite into her skin. She'll have to ditch the bra as soon as she can.

At least she got the damned thing on. By contrast, Elise fumbles with the straps of her bra as if tangling with a giant squid. She finally throws it down and cries. Cash wraps her in a hug and strokes her hair. "It's all right, honey. I'll help you."

Starla is almost as clueless about what to do. Midnight figures it's because Stan Shaw had about as much experience taking off bras as Ellis Pate or any other homo. Midnight's always wondered if maybe Apex Man had been keeping another secret identity.

Allison puts her bra on easily and then goes to help Starla. "You have to hook it in the back here," she explains. With expert precision she demonstrates the principle. "Maybe Ms. Cash can buy you one that hooks in the front to make it easier."

"I can get the hang of it," Starla growls.

"Sure. Practice makes perfect," Allison says with a fake giggle and then sits down to wait for the lesson to continue.

Midnight sits next to her. "Still no luck getting word out of here?" she asks.

"I haven't asked," Allison says.

"Your wife has probably reported you missing by now. If we go into the kitchen we might find your face on a milk carton."

"I doubt that." Allison stares down at the floor. "If I could get out of here, it'd only take me a few seconds to get to a phone. I could call her—"

"And?"

"What am I supposed to say? The second she hears my voice she'll know it isn't me. She'll probably think it's a sick prank."

"So don't call her. Send her a letter. Or email. Or text. Something written."

"Yeah, maybe." Allison giggles hollowly again. "Maybe throw a bottle in the ocean, right?"

"It's better than nothing."

Starla sits down next to them while Elise and Cash continue their sobfest. "Is it always going to feel this tight?"

"You probably need a bigger one," Allison says.

"I doubt they make bigger ones," Midnight says.

Starla's eyes flash red as if she's using her IR vision, an unconscious habit when she gets really pissed off. "Can't you try to take this seriously? We might be this way for a long time."

"Sorry. I was just trying to lighten the mood."

"No you're not! You're always making those little jabs and jokes to get under everyone's skin. I could put up with it before because you were always helpful to the team, but now—"

"Now what?"

"Now that there is no team, I'm sick of it. Grow up!"

"Why should I? I'm only seventeen."

"This is what I mean. I'm trying to make a serious point and you turn it into another ironic joke. I want you to know, when we get out of here, we're through. I don't ever want to see you again!"

"Fine with me."

"Guys, come on, don't fight," Allison interjects. "We're all under a lot of stress right now. Let's not say things we'll regret later."

"You're right. I'm sorry," Starla says.

"I'm not." Midnight gets up to move her chair across the room.

"Fine, go off by yourself. That's how you've always liked it: the lone wolf against the world. See how far you get now!" Starla shouts at her loud enough to shake dust from the ceiling.

Midnight pretends not to hear, staring at a wall. She waits for Major Dalton to drag her away by the ear again, but no one comes for her. They all leave her alone. While she should enjoy this, she feels a nervous flutter in her stomach at Starla's words.

***

The next morning no one else is at breakfast. As Midnight nibbles on a piece of toast, Major Dalton comes in to sit across from her with a cup of coffee. "Is it time for another lecture?"

"No. I'm just passing the word that the other three are under the weather. They'll be confined to quarters for the next three to five days."

Midnight knows what this means. "Aunt Flo came to visit?"

"She got Starla first. Her bed looked like she slaughtered a cow in it."

"Must be that alien physiology of hers. It exaggerates all her physical properties."

"That's a good theory. And I guess since they were in such close proximity, the other two are on the same schedule."

"Great. So can I go back to bed to wait for my turn?"

"Actually, Ms. Cash is going to do some one-on-one tutoring with you."

"I don't suppose I have a choice about that, do I?"

"Not unless you can start squirting out blood between your legs."

Midnight closes her eyes as if she's trying to will her period to come. When she opens them again, Major Dalton is shaking her head. "It was worth a shot."

Cash isn't alone in the lounge. There's a monstrously fat old woman dressed in a muumuu with her. "There you are! This is Patty Ryan. She did my hair and makeup on a lot of shoots back in the day."

That day was probably back in the early 80s Midnight guesses. "That's great. What's it got to do with me?"

"Well, you've been so sullen through all this, I was wracking my brain trying to think of a way to help. Then I decided we need to give you a total makeover."

A vision of ending up like a shorter, redheaded version of Elise pops into Midnight's head. "I'm fine. I've got my bra on today and everything."

"Come on, silly, it'll be fun! When it's over, I promise you'll feel like a whole new person!"

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Midnight tries to back out of the room, but of course Major Dalton is there. "Just let her try it, Rob. What'll it hurt?"

"Fine," Midnight grumbles.

Patty Ryan claps her meaty hands. "Wonderful! Why don't you have a seat and we'll get to work."

Midnight sits on one of the chairs, her body tensing like when one of her enemies used to capture and torture her. This she's certain will be a different kind of torture. And there's no Super Squad or police officers to bail her out this time.

She closes her eyes and practices the breathing exercises she learned from a Buddhist monk in Tibet during her training to become Midnight Spectre. It's been a while since she's tried this and that was back in her male body. The basic muscles are all the same, but there's a different feeling now since everything isn't where it used to be. There's the heaviness at the top of her chest that wasn't there before while her lower abdominal muscles have atrophied so much. More than that, there aren't all the familiar aches and pains she had inherited from a decade of battling criminals. All those scars have disappeared thanks to the Feminazi.

While she considers whether she should be glad about this or not, she hears the rhythmic patter of Ryan's voice in the background. She isn't sure when she falls asleep in the chair, but she wakes to Cash saying, "Wake up, sweetheart. Get a look at the new you!"

Midnight is still loathe to open her eyes. The last time she looked in a mirror, she saw a young girl's face in place of a thirty-five-year-old man's. What have they done to her now?

She finally opens her eyes and nearly tips the chair over. They took her suggestion to cut her hair shorter, down to jaw length now. Most of it is dyed black, but there are streaks of bright red at the ends. Her face has gotten even paler, except for dark circles around her eyes and her black lips.

"Now, I've got the perfect ensemble to go with it," Cash says. She motions to a faded Led Zepplin T-shirt, black jeans intentionally ripped along the legs, and a battered pair of black sneakers. "Go ahead and try them on."

Midnight staggers into the bathroom with the clothes. They're a bit loose, but they fit well enough. She stares in the mirror at her new self. She's seen girls like this before in certain nightclubs and at Starbucks—usually working the counter of the latter. They're the type of hipster punks who thumb their nose at authority by rebelling against the status quo in a very conformist way. Is this who they think she is?

Starla's words the day before come back to her. With all her brooding and ironic jokes, Midnight can see why Cash would see fit to cast her in this role, as the outcast, the misfit. She had reduced everything Midnight Spectre stood for into a cliché.

There's a tap on the door. Major Dalton asks, "Rob, are you all right? Do you need any help?"

"I'm fine," Midnight snaps. She wipes at the mascara that's begun to run from her tears. She opens the door and sees a familiar face waiting for her. Not Major Dalton, but an old man dressed like he's just come home from hunting pheasants in his plaid tweed overcoat and newsboy hat. "Jasper!"

She throws herself at him like a little girl whose daddy has just come home after a long trip. A part of her mind notes she comes up only to his shoulders now, whereas before she used to be several inches taller than the old man. The rest of her doesn't care at the moment; she sobs gratefully into his coat.

Much sooner than she'd like, Jasper nudges her back. He smiles down at her. "I got here as soon as Major Dalton called. She told me all about your little mishap."

"It's more than a little mishap," Midnight says.

"I suppose so. Why don't we go to the cafeteria and I'll make you a nice hot cup of tea?"

"All right." Midnight leans against Jasper, his arm around her shoulders as they head towards the cafeteria.

***

Jasper shoos the kitchen staff away to personally see to making Midnight's tea. Throughout all her travels, Midnight never found anyone who could make a cup of tea as well as Jasper. It must be that British know-how.

She gratefully accepts the tea, though she sets it down to steep for a few minutes. She looks down into the cup, as if she can divine some hidden meaning from the leaves like a fortune teller. "I must look quite a sight to you," she says, mimicking his accent.

"I have to say it's not entirely an unwelcome change."

"Dirty old man."

"If only I were fifty years younger, I'd ask you out."

Midnight's cheeks warm despite that she knows Jasper is joking. "How are things on the outside? The world gone to hell yet?"

"There is some speculation about what's become of the Super Squad. The military is only saying that you're on a secret mission."

"What about more locally?"

"Things haven't gotten too bad yet. Captain Howe seems to have a lid on everything."

"No escapes yet?"

"Not yet. It's only a matter of time I suppose."

"There will be if I'm stuck here much longer. Then we'll be back at square one."

Jasper looks away from her as he sips his cup of tea. Midnight watches him until he finally puts the cup down. "Forgive my impertinence, Mistress Robin, but are you sure that's wise?"

Midnight glances involuntarily at her little teenaged body. Her cheeks warm again. "I know what it looks like, but I'm not an invalid. I just need to work out. Maybe when I get out of here I can see Master Wang to work on my training."

"Again, forgive my impertinence, Mistress, but it occurs to me there's no hurry to do that. Perhaps you could give it a go to live like a normal person for a time?"

"The city needs Midnight Spectre. Just because the shit hasn't hit the fan yet doesn't mean it won't soon enough. When that happens, who's going to save the city: Captain Howe and his legion of corrupt flatfeet?"

Jasper takes another long sip of his tea. He's getting ready to say something uncomfortable, Midnight is certain. She gulps from her own cup as she waits for it. "Might you perhaps be overstating your own importance? Perhaps Captain Howe is more capable than you've estimated."

"I doubt that." She glares at him for a moment. "You don't think I can do it anymore, do you? You think I'm too soft now. Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't do my job!"

"I'm sorry, Mistress, but seeing you like this, so innocent and sweet-looking, I don't think I can live with myself if I let you back out there."

"So, what? I'm supposed to start going to cotillions now and wait for some rich boy to marry me so I can pump out his babies?"

"Not at all. I'm merely suggesting you take some time to examine all your options."

"There are no other options. When Mom and Dad died, I promised I would clean up that city. It doesn't matter if I'm seventeen or seventy or if I have a vagina instead of a penis. Got it? The mission isn't ever going to change!"

Jasper looks down at his tea and nods. "Very well. If that's how you feel, I'm certain there's no way I can stop you. Perhaps, though, until Major Dalton sees fit to release you, you might give the idea some consideration?"

"I'll think about it," Midnight snaps and then stomps back to her room to be alone.

### Chapter 7

Allison is the first one released from quarantine two days later. Starla and Elise are still floating down the crimson river, while Allison's monthly visitor seems to have packed up and left. Dr. Harken insists on running a complete set of blood tests to ascertain why her period came and went so quickly.

Allison would like to see the results, but Harken won't show her. No one's shown her any data since she's gotten here. She's asked Major Dalton a few times and always received a vague answer for why she can't have access to information about her own body. Especially since she had always been given Most Secret clearance before. Becoming a woman didn't make her a security risk, did it?

She's weak and sore after the blood tests, so she goes into the mess hall for some juice and a bite to eat. The only one in the room is a teenaged girl with short black hair streaked with bright red. Is she the daughter of someone who works here? A maximum security military installation—the kind that isn't supposed to exist officially—isn't the kind of place for Take Your Daughter to Work Day.

Only when she gets a closer look at the girl's face does Allison recognize Robin Holloway. She sits down across from Robin and smiles. "I like the new look," she says. It's a lie, but from the way the girl is idly stirring her oatmeal, she needs cheering up.

"That makes one of us," Robin grumbles.

"It's not that bad, is it?"

Like a normal teenager, Robin only shrugs. "Where are the other two?"

"Still in quarantine. It seems running isn't the only thing I'm faster than everyone at."

"That must be nice."

"Have you—?" Allison can feel her face turn warm; it's still difficult to discuss these sort of things. She and Sally never talked about this kind of stuff. The only indications of when it came and went were Sally's irritability and tampon wrappers in the trash. A few times, before Jenny was born, Sally would have to fend Alan away when he was in the mood and she wasn't.

"Not yet. Lucky me," Robin says. "Maybe I'm too young to even get one."

"That's impossible. You wouldn't have secondary sexual characteristics—"

"I was joking," Robin snaps.

"Sorry," Allison says. This mood of Robin's might be the onset of PMS, but in her case it's hard to tell. "So how have things been going here on the outside?"

Again Robin shrugs. "Not much different. They let me have a visitor, though. Jasper's down in Major Dalton's office."

"That's great," Allison says, her voice hollow. "I'm sure he was glad to see you."

"Yeah, right. He says he wants me to clean up and become Miss Congeniality now. As if a pair of boobs should instantly make me June Cleaver or something. But he did bring me a nice present." As Robin says this, something bumps against Allison's thigh. She realizes one of Robin's hands is under the table. Allison reaches down as if to itch her leg to touch Robin's hand.

In her hand is something thin and plastic. From the buttons along the face of it, Allison is pretty sure it's a cell phone. Robin gives her a wink before she continues, "He brought some tea from home. It had to go through a dozen scans by the Gestapo in here, but they finally figured out it was harmless."

"How long is he going to stay?"

"Probably the duration. Dalton thinks it will help me adjust to have someone I care about here. I don't think I want him around if he's going to act like my father, though."

From the key words in the last two sentences, Allison is fairly certain what Robin is up to. With the cell phone, Allison can contact Sally and Jenny to let them know she's still alive and unharmed—relatively speaking. She slips the phone into her pocket while keeping her hand under the table. She'll have to find a quiet place where she can use it later. It'll probably have to be the bathroom, unless they're watching that too.

"Thanks," Allison mouths to Robin. Her back goes stiff when a door opens. It's not Major Dalton or a squad of soldiers to arrest them, just Ms. Cash and a fat old woman.

Ms. Cash claps her hands. "Allison, wonderful to see you again. I think now's the perfect chance for some one-on-one time."

"Sure," Allison mumbles while Robin rolls her eyes. Allison hopes she comes out of it with a little less radical change than the teenager.

***

The biggest problem during her makeover is to keep the phone hidden. Allison knows better than to let Ms. Cash see it or else word will certainly get back to Major Dalton. The phone seems to be burning a hole in the pocket of her sweatpants as Ms. Ryan works on styling Allison's hair. Any second she expects Dalton and an escort to run in here.

What would she do if they did? Would she hand the phone over to them without a fight? She hasn't tried her speed out yet as a woman, but she's certain it's the same as before. If it comes to a fight, she should be able to take Dalton and company out.

What then? Dalton already said she'd rather kill them all—including everyone in the base—than let anyone escape. Allison has little doubt Dalton will carry through on that threat. But maybe she could delay them long enough to get a message off to Sally—

"All finished now, sweetheart. Have a look."

Ms. Ryan holds up a mirror to Allison's face. Her brown locks are wavier and cut to about shoulder length now. Allison has to admit it makes her look a bit more grown up than before. "It's very nice. Thank you."

"And I've got an outfit that I think will be perfect for you," Ms. Cash says and claps her hands. After what Ms. Cash picked out for Robin, Allison cringes in anticipation of something horrible.

What Ms. Cash has laid out is a blue-and-white striped summer dress with a matching blue cardigan sweater. There's a pair of shoes with white straps and two or three inch heels that make Allison's stomach churn. How is she supposed to run in those things? "Why don't you go try them on?" Ms. Cash suggests.

"All right," Allison mumbles. She takes the clothes into a supply closet that's the right size for a makeshift changing room.

She looks around for any hidden cameras but doesn't see anything. They wouldn't bug a supply room, would they? She decides to risk it. She takes the phone from her pocket. It looks like an ordinary BlackBerry, but knowing Midnight Spectre it's certain to have a few bells and whistles not in the original specs.

Allison doesn't waste any time to type in Sally's number. She knows she can't call, not as a woman and not with two other women in the next room. Instead, she types out a simple message: I'm OK. Be Home Soon. Love you. Kiss Jenny 4 Me. Her shorter, thinner fingers fumble with the keys a bit, but after a minute she hits the send button.

It's not a moment too soon, as someone knocks on the door. Ms. Cash asks, "Do you need any help, sweetie?"

"I'm fine," Allison says.

She soon discovers one problem with her new clothes: there aren't any pockets. There's nowhere for her to put the cell phone unless she tries to stuff it down her bra. In a panic she looks around the supply room. There's a bucket of sawdust at her feet. She drops the phone into the bucket and then scoops sawdust around it until it's hidden. Unless anyone has an accident, it should be safe there until she or Robin can retrieve it.

Allison slips on the shoes and then throws open the door. She stumbles in the heels, but Cash catches her before she falls. "Maybe these shoes are a bit much for you," Cash says. "We'll have to give you some practice in how to wear them."

"Great," Allison mutters.

"How do you like the rest of it?"

Cash holds up the mirror. Allison studies her reflection again. Like her hair, the clothes make her seem older, more like a woman in her thirties. All she needs is a minivan to look like a typical soccer mom. Her cheeks warm as she thinks of driving Jenny to soccer games when her daughter is old enough. How will she explain to Jenny that she has two mommies now?

She doesn't realize she's crying until Cash wipes at her eyes. "What's wrong, sweetie? If it's the clothes, we can find something else—"

"No, it's fine. I like them. I was just thinking of something else."

"How about we take a little break? Then you can practice in your new shoes."

"Sure." Cash helps Allison over to a chair, where she wipes at her eyes as she thinks of the future.

### Chapter 8

Starla is the last to emerge from the quarantine. She accepts the grief she gets from Elise and Robin about the duration of her period—an entire week! Through that week she's lost seemingly gallons of blood, endured cramps that felt as if someone were squeezing a vise around her limbs, and had her entire body feel bloated to the point she couldn't drag herself to the toilet.

Allison and Elise witnessed much of that, especially Elise, who only left the room two days earlier. No one knows about the much more serious problem: the surge of hormones has made Starla's grasp on her powers extremely tenuous.

It's not something any of the others can understand. Robin, like Dalton and the rest of the soldiers, doesn't have any superpowers. Elise and Alison's powers aren't nearly on the same magnitude as Starla's; their powers aren't so _destructive_. All it takes is one slip-up and a gush of fire could spurt from Starla's mouth to turn someone into ashes. If she's not careful when she opens a door, she might tear it from its hinges.

She's dealt with this problem before. Back when Stan Shaw turned twelve and began to enter puberty, the powers started to manifest themselves. First came the super strength, which at the time he thought was great—until he threw a bale of hay through the front window of the house. That netted him a week's grounding, plus the loss of his allowance for months.

That was only the beginning. The other powers came along, each with its own dangers. He'd been milking a cow when it began to moo plaintively. Only then did he discover he and the cow were suspended in the air. The infrared vision kept him home from school for two weeks as he couldn't see more than multi-colored blobs in his vision.

The fire breath was the worst. It came in the middle of the night. He thought it must be a really bad case of indigestion from the way his throat burned. He opened his mouth to call for Ma and Pa only to have a stream leap out like a blowtorch—or a dragon. Stan had put the fire out by creating a mighty wind with his super strength and a blanket. Then he ran into the night, where he wound up burning down an entire field of wheat. That cost him a year's allowance.

Now it's happening again. The first night she'd woke up with the same burning in her throat. She knew enough to keep her mouth closed this time. She didn't open it until she managed to get into the shower, where she ran the water to alleviate any damage. When she hasn't been able to get to the shower, she tries to let it out a little at a time into a bedpan, like releasing the steam from an overheated boiler.

She needs to get out of here. She needs to get to the Crystal Lair, her hidden fortress. It's located in the Arctic Circle, where her fire breath won't do more than melt the snow. And there she can look over the records from her birth world. Her people might have some way to change them back.

She staggers into the mess hall, her infrared vision showing six humans in the room. It's hard to tell who's who until she gets control of it. The room comes into focus so she can retrieve a tray of food and glass of water. Except for the sweat plastering hair to her forehead, she should look normal enough to them. It's important not to let them know what a sorry state she's in; they'll overreact, especially Dalton. They'll lock her up in a gamma-saturated room so she can't hurt anyone. Maybe that's not such a bad idea.

Elise and Robin make their little jokes at her expense. Allison studies her but doesn't say anything. She probably has some inkling of what's going on; she is a biochemist who's done extensive research on superhuman physiology. She looks down at her tray and then shovels in eggs like there's no tomorrow.

Starla's careful not to open her mouth too wide as she eats or drinks, lest a stream of fire melt the whole table. The water does little to cool the fire in her throat. She can feel the temperature rise; if she had a temperature gauge it would probably be deep in the red.

Major Dalton studies her face. "Are you feeling all right, Starla?"

"Just a little nauseous still."

"Maybe you should get back to bed."

"She's already been in bed for seven days," Elise points out.

"It's a super period," Robin says. Her new hairdo and clothes certainly haven't improved her disposition; nor would Starla expect them to. Robin Holloway is the type of person immune to happiness. She's spent a lifetime isolating herself from those feelings. The little—

Starla's IR vision kicks in again. She can feel her entire body warming, as if she's a spaceship dropping through the atmosphere. "I'm going to take a shower," she says.

She barely makes it to the shower and gets the cold water on when the fire erupts, reducing a soap dish and the soap inside to a puddle. The rest of the bathroom seems fine, but she can't spend her entire life in a shower.

A hand touches her shoulder. Allison says, "You can't control it, can you?"

"Not really."

"You need to tell Dalton. They might be able to treat you."

"How? Dousing me with gamma rays?"

"There are hormone treatments we can try. They might even you out enough to limit the symptoms."

"I can manage it. Like I did last time." Starla takes Allison's hand. "You can't tell Dalton. Please. I can handle it on my own."

Allison stares at her for a long moment and then nods. "I won't tell her for now, but if it keeps up or gets worse then we have to talk with her."

"Thank you."

"I'll go fetch you some dry clothes. Back in a jiff." Starla hasn't even pushed the wet hair away from her face before Allison is back with a pile of clothes.

"Show off."

Before Allison can say anything, the alarms sound.

***

Allison is at the doors of the situation room a full minute before Starla. "They won't let us in there," Allison says. She gestures to two guards armed with machine guns.

"Major Dalton says this is a restricted area," one guard says. "You're to return to your quarters until further instructions are given."

"We have a right to know what's going on," Allison says.

"Just push their asses out of the way," Robin says from behind them. Her and Elise stand there, not bickering amongst themselves for once.

Starla turns to the guards and straightens to her full height. It's a few inches shorter, but still taller than both men. "I think you'd better move aside, son."

"Major Dalton says—"

Starla grabs each man by the shoulder and then tosses them behind her. She hears them hit the floor, their weapons clattering away. She worries she might have hurt them, but there's no time to check. She rears back and is about to smash the door open when Robin gets in front of her. She holds up a key card. "Take it easy. Those doors are expensive."

Robin waves a card over the lock and the door parts for them. Inside is a room lined with computers and very serious men and women to operate them. A map of the world is displayed on a monitor the size of a wall in the mess hall. Red dots flash in Atomic City, Focal City, and a spot in the Pacific about two hundred miles east of the Philippines—near the underwater metropolis of Pacifica.

Major Dalton stands on a raised platform, surrounded by a cluster of harried technicians. She turns to glare at them. "What are you four doing in here? This is a restricted area."

"You really think we were going to sit around while the world goes to shit?" Robin says. Despite her diminutive size, she stomps up the stairs with the authority of a much larger person. She gestures to the IMAX-sized screen. "And things are going to shit, aren't they?"

"Listen, little girl, I don't have time for you right now—"

"Have you got time for me?" Starla says. She stands inches in front of the major; one stream of fire would instantly cremate Dalton.

"And us," Elise seconds. "What are those dots?"

"Threat alerts," Robin says. While Starla has been intimidating Dalton, Robin has seized control of a terminal. "Let's see, we've got Killer Whale hitting Pacifica, Inertia is going after Focal City, and our old pal Rad Geiger is attacking Atomic City."

"It's a coordinated attack," Allison says.

"Looks like you have a leak, Major," Robin says.

"If we have a leak, maybe it's because someone brought in an illegal cell phone and used it," Dalton snaps.

From the way Allison's cheeks turn red, Starla knows it must be her. Starla grabs hold of Dalton's shoulder. "None of us would tip off the enemy. It's probably someone in your organization."

"I don't care who it is. We got to get out there," Elise says. "Those are my people being attacked!"

"We're dispatching assets to deal with the situations," Dalton says.

"Your assets can't stop Killer Whale! Only I can!"

"I thought you didn't even like being king of Pacifica," Robin says, never one not to poke the sleeping dog.

"I don't have to like them. They're my responsibility."

"And Focal City is mine. Sally and Jenny are there," Allison says. "I can't stand here and do nothing."

"Well Major?" Starla says. "How about it?"

Dalton looks around the room. She sighs and then nods. "Follow me."

***

Starla expects Dalton to lead them into a trap similar to what they stumbled into on Roboto's island. The major leads them down a bunch of winding corridors, far enough underground that Starla can feel the air getting warmer; or maybe it's just her fire breath ready to blow again.

They come to a door that looks like a bank vault. Two more guards are in front of it. Major Dalton motions to them. "At ease, boys. We're going to Protocol Pink."

"Yes, sir," the guards say. One punches a code into a keypad next to the door. The vault yawns open. Starla braces for a burst of gamma radiation to weaken her. But there's nothing like that. Inside, she sees her costume.

At least a variation of her costume. The red shorts—the "outer-underwear" as Midnight Spectre called them—and yellow tights are gone in favor of a short red skirt. Where Apex Man's logo—a red diamond with a yellow 'A' in the center—was has been cut out.

Allison's uniform is the same except the colors are reversed from a silver chest with blue accents to a blue chest with silver accents. Like Starla's costume, the logo in the center has been cut out. And instead of a cowl there's a blue domino mask similar to what Apex Man wore.

Elise's uniform has undergone a complete transformation. The green tunic and tights are gone. In its place is a purple tunic with black leggings, both made of slick waterproof fabric. A black domino mask completes the ensemble.

"Where's my uniform?" Robin asks, her voice quivering.

"Sorry, kid. You know I've never supported kid sidekicks."

"I'm not anyone's _sidekick_!" Robin shrieks. "Get me my goddamned uniform!"

"I'm sorry, Rob. This is for your own good." Dalton snaps her fingers. The two guards seize Robin by the arms. She flails around, but they're too big and strong for her. "You see? You can't even beat two guards. What do you think you're going to do against Geiger or Inertia?"

"I can't stay here. It's not fair!"

Dalton puts a hand on Robin's shoulder. The girl shakes it away, fury blazing in her gray eyes despite the tears in them. "You can stay with me in the command center and help coordinate."

"I'm not one of your stupid button pushing drones."

"No, you're not. You're one of the best computer hackers on the planet. That might come in handy."

"Don't try to patronize me," Robin growls.

"It's that or you go back to your quarters to cry on Jasper's shoulder."

"Fine."

"To which one?"

"I'll go to my room."

Dalton nods to the guards. They start to lead Robin away. "Is that really necessary?" Allison asks. "Rob's always been a key part of the team. He's saved us more times than I can count."

Elise snorts at this. "Maybe _he_ did, but look at _her_. Killer Whale would break her like a matchstick."

"We'll talk about this later," Dalton says.

While everyone else has been arguing, Starla has slipped into her uniform. The skirt barely covers her panties. The missing logo exposes a fair amount of her cleavage. The worst though are the boots with their six-inch spike heels. "I can't walk in these," she says.

"And I sure as hell can't run in them," Allison says. She has an almost identical pair of high-heeled boots, except hers are white. She gestures to the mask too. "And my hair is going to be whipping all over the place like this."

"Just deal with it," Elise snaps. She's got her uniform on, the purple top fitting snugly to the curves of her body to the point that her nipples are visible. She glides towards the door in her black high-heeled boots. "Come on, ladies, let's go save the world."

### Chapter 9

Elise braces herself as she stands on the pier. She's not sure what to expect when she dives into the water. For the last two weeks the only water she's been around has been in the shower and the only fish in the mess hall. There are a pair of Navy rescue divers on the pier with her just in case this doesn't go well and she needs rescued.

"Here goes nothing," she says with more confidence than she feels. Then she dives into the water. Owing to her new physique it's not as graceful a dive as before, but not a belly flop either.

She takes a few practice strokes above the water to test the suit. She can't feel it on her body at all; it's like she's swimming in the nude. She giggles at this and then dives underwater. She feels the same freedom of movement under the water. At first she holds her breath like a normal human, until her lungs begin to burn. She closes her eyes before she blows out the last of the air she's been holding in.

She remembers when her father, the previous Lord Neptune, took her for her first swim. Back then Ellis Pate had been ten years old and until that time had thought he was an ordinary boy, the son of the American ambassador to New Zealand. Then a grizzled old man with a white beard like Santa Claus had shown up, claiming to be Ellis's real father.

Ellis wanted nothing to do with the old man; he had run away when his parents confirmed that he was in fact adopted. The people he thought had been his parents had found him washed up on a beach, surrounded in seaweed like a blanket. When they'd first seen him, Ellis had sported gills along his neck and webbing between his fingers and toes. They weren't sure what to do with him, so they'd kept him hidden in the embassy until the gills and webbing went away. Then the ambassador set up the paperwork to make it seem as if Ellis had been adopted by them from a local orphanage.

Ellis managed to sneak out of the embassy and made it down to the harbor. He'd always liked to watch the boats, but now tears came to his eyes. He stared at his fingers, waiting to see the webbing appear. He stared into the water so he could check for gills, but so far he was still normal.

He had never gone swimming before. His parents had forbid him to get near the water. At the time he'd thought they were being overly cautious; now he understood they knew he was a freak and had wanted to keep him from finding out.

He felt the pier shake and turned to see the old man coming towards him. Ellis wanted to run, but his legs wouldn't work, so he curled into a ball and peed himself like a baby. "There's no need to be afraid, my son," the old man said.

"Go away!" Ellis shouted. He hoped someone would come to his aid, but no one did.

"My son, it is time to claim your birthright," the old man said. He stopped to cough violently. He shook his head. "This 'air' of yours is vile. I don't know how you can stand it."

"Are you...are you a merman?" Ellis asked. He had seen _The Little Mermaid_ the year before, which had increased tensions between him and his parents about their no swimming rule for months.

"I am the king of Pacifica and you are its prince," the old man said.

"I'm a prince?" Ellis perked up at this; it was like something from one of the storybooks his mother had used to read at bedtime.

"Yes, and it is time to return to the land that will one day be yours." The old man stopped to cough again. "I am getting old and my health is declining. I need an heir to the throne—a capable one."

"But I can't leave here. Mom and Dad—"

"They are not your real parents. Your real mother waits for you in Pacifica. She's worried about you every day since she sent you away."

"She sent me away?"

"For your own protection. There were some who wished to kill you at birth to deny me an heir. To spare you, your mother sent you here, to the surface. I have long sought you, but now that I've found you, it's time to go home."

"I can't—" The old man shoved Ellis into the water. At first he flailed his arms and legs around uselessly. He held in what air he'd been able to take in before he hit the water. His lungs burned and his vision began to darken. The last air escaped his lungs as he screamed, the cry muffled by the water.

Then a strange thing happened: he could breathe! He was still underwater and yet his lungs no longer burned and his vision returned to normal. His eyes boggled to see the webbing between the fingers of his hands. He kicked off his shoes and socks to find his toes with the same translucent material between them.

The old man—his real father—took him by the back of the shirt. He demonstrated to Ellis how to paddle through the water and then how to glide through it like a fish. Out in the harbor, away from the pier, Ellis began to see strange images. Father explained these were the thoughts of the sea creatures nearby. "All of our ancestors, we of noble lineage, can communicate with our aquatic brothers and sisters. We can command them to do our bidding, but this must be used wisely. The other creatures of the sea are our comrades, not our slaves."

Ellis nodded his understanding and then followed Father far away from the home where he'd grown up and to his native home.

Elise goes through the process again now, only this time she's alone. Her lungs get to the point where they're about to burst and then there's a rush of oxygen into her system. Her gills have returned to let her breathe in the water as naturally as she breathed air on land. She holds up a hand to see the webbing between her fingers.

She doesn't need Father to demonstrate how to swim this time. She knows the mechanics of it well enough. She paddles with her arms first to get some momentum and then begins to furiously kick her legs. Before long she hurtles through the water faster than any torpedo.

She's moving faster than she ever has before as a man. It must be because of her smaller, lighter body; it allows her to move with speed and agility she's never thought possible. She begins to laugh as she zips through the water. She hasn't had this much fun swimming since she was a child first learning to swim.

When she shoots through a school of tuna, she can sense their annoyance. She sends an apology to them that she hopes they understand. There's no time to talk, though, as she has to get to Pacifica. She has to stop Killer Whale—her brother.

***

When she's a few miles from the gates to Pacifica, she can see signs of damage. There are no fires or smoke underwater, but she sees ruts and black patches along the coral fence that rings the city. From the way the clamshell gates—"the pearly gates" Midnight Spectre had called them—hang ajar, Elise knows Killer Whale has already breached the city.

She pauses near the gates, where she finds a crab that's burrowed deep into the sand to hide. Its mind is a mash-up of confused images, but from these she ascertains Killer Whale came with an armada of sea creatures he'd bent to his will. As his moniker implies, many of them were orcas from farther north in the Pacific. There were also a hundred or so Pacificans loyal to her brother; they had never accepted the rule of someone who'd been raised on land for ten years.

Elise swims through the gates. She can see the whales and their Pacifican handlers around the city, herding loyal Pacificans into the town square. Anguished cries for help call to Elise, but she can't help them yet. She has to reach Killer Whale to break his control over the orcas, sharks, and other creatures he's pressed into service.

As a man, Elise had often yearned to escape the palace and its guards to meet up for a rendezvous with Paul or another boyfriend. He had used a channel that ran beneath the city, one only the royals knew about. It was maintained to allow the nobles to escape should the city be about to fall to invaders. But this time it will be helping the invader.

Elise coasts between houses, careful to avoid any sentries Killer Whale has posted. On the northwest corner of the city, near a statue of Elise's great-grandfather is a patch of coral that appears to be natural. The coral is actually some kind of elaborate plastic Allison had cooked up back when they had often gone out to the Love Shack. It looks and feels real enough, but easily lifts up to reveal the opening to a tunnel.

Elise makes sure no one is around before she jets into the tunnel. A soft orange glow comes from the floor, where the rock is heated by magma beneath the earth's crust. As Elise swims along the channel, she wonders if Killer Whale has found this entrance, if he will have a guard posted.

This seems unlikely as Father never entrusted Killer Whale with any secrets. That was why Father had gone to such lengths to find Elise; he'd known his other son was a psychopath who would lead Pacifica to ruin. Codgers like Baron Triton would argue Ellis Pate had not done much better, but Elise had learned from Father that Pacifica could largely govern itself. It only needed someone to sit on the throne to make people feel like someone had a firm hand on the till.

As she gets near the end of the tunnel, Elise stops to peek up through a slit in the rock at the throne room. As expected, Killer Whale sits on the throne in his black suit with its white stripes to resemble the name he'd given himself. He has Father's crown on his head, the crown Father never saw him fit to wear.

It's only a slight surprise to see Baron Triton beside the throne. The old-timer might have been in on this coup, or he might simply have seen which way the tide was flowing and gone with it. A much more startling sight is Mother kneeling at the throne with tears in her eyes.

"Come now, Mother, you shouldn't carry on so. I have come home at last."

"Your brother will find out. He will retake the throne from you."

"I doubt that. The fool is dead by now." Killer Whale glides down from the throne to seize Mother by the hair. "I am your king now!"

"Never."

Killer Whale has no compunctions about hitting an old woman. Mother cries out in pain, but makes no attempt to stop the blood flowing from a gash on her cheek. If it were possible, she would probably spit in his face. Killer Whale makes as if to hit her again, but then turns to a pair of guards. "Take her to the dungeon. A few days in irons should teach her some respect."

Elise watches the guards take Mother away. Then she coasts along the rest of the tunnel to pop up in a storeroom.

Now it's time to teach Killer Whale some respect.

***

Since Killer Whale outnumbers her by probably two hundred to one, Elise sees no reason for subtlety. Her brother has one weakness, the weakness of most of the villains the Super Squad has tangled with: he's terribly egotistical and insecure. He's also dumb enough to let himself get goaded into a one-on-one duel.

With this in mind, Elise swims up to the doors to the throne room. There are two guards stationed there. They gape at her, their eyes focusing on her breasts in the skin-tight wetsuit. She grins at them. "Hi, boys. See something you like?"

They blush like a couple of horny fourteen-year-olds. "Um—"

They're still hemming and hawing when she bashes their heads into the wall. They float away, unconscious. Then Elise opens one of the doors to the throne room enough that she can slither inside.

Killer Whale and Baron Triton are going over strategy at a table when she enters. Killer Whale turns at her approach. He takes a good look at her breasts before his eyes narrow. "Who are you, child?"

"I'm the one who's come to return the throne to the rightful king of Pacifica."

Killer Whale scoffs at this. "You? My cowardly brother would send a little girl to fight his battles for him."

"He didn't figure he needed a man to take care of you," Elise says. She gets closer to Killer Whale. She can see his face turning red. He doesn't like to have his manhood mocked by a girl.

"We'll see about that, child," Killer Whale growls. He takes a harpoon from a sheath on his back. The end of it is stained red with blood, probably from the Pacificans he's murdered. He levels the harpoon at her. "Well? Have you anything better than insults to defend yourself with?"

"Actually, I do." Elise takes a seashell off her belt. It's the kind of fan-shaped shell the oil company used for its logo. But with a flash the shell becomes a golden trident.

Killer Whale's eyes widen. "That can't be. No _girl_ can wield the royal trident!"

"Except a girl of noble blood," Elise says like she knew this all along. She had gambled the trident would still work and it had. "Now, you want to surrender or make this hard on yourself?"

"This changes nothing." Killer Whale lunges forward with the harpoon. Elise dances aside. Fighting underwater is like a form of dance, albeit a deadly one. It's easier now that she's lighter and more nimble.

When Killer Whale swings the harpoon clumsily at her, Elise darts to the right and then jabs him in the side with the trident. He screams in pain and then backs away, blood dripping from the wounds. "You'll pay for that, you little bitch."

With a war cry he charges at her. Killer Whale never has seemed to learn the principles of armed combat. For one thing, he lets his emotions get in the way to make him sloppy. Elise needs only to wait for him to get enough momentum before she dives beneath him. She loops around to run the trident through his left leg, to pin him to the floor.

He tries to spin around with the harpoon, but she seizes it by the shaft. This is where he has the advantage now, in superior strength. The harpoon gets closer and closer, until the tip nicks her wetsuit. With a grunt, Elise twists the harpoon away. The blood Killer Whale's lost weakens him enough that he can't stop her from yanking the harpoon out of his hands. She lets it float harmlessly away.

"Now, you're going to release the sea creatures you enslaved and then tell your minions to clear out of here. Understand?"

"This can't be. No _girl_ can best me!"

"Well, one just did. And unless you want the entire kingdom to know about it, I'd suggest you surrender."

Killer Whale looks her in the eye, trying to decide. In the end he nods. "Very well. I will release them. But this isn't the end of it."

Elise knows he's right. She could end it by taking the harpoon and stabbing him through the heart, but she can't. Killer Whale is still her brother. Despite everything that's happened, all the terrible things he's done, she can't kill her only sibling.

Once a pair of loyal guards show up, Elise follows them down to the dungeon with Killer Whale in tow, his hands and feet in shackles. The guards unceremoniously shove him into a cell. "I'll have someone stop by to take care of those wounds," Elise says.

Then she swims down a few cells, to where she sees Mother in her cell, sitting idly on a coral bench. Elise takes off her mask and then opens the door. Mother turns to face her, eyes narrowing. Elise darts forward to slam into her. It's been so long since she's hugged her mother. "Hello, Mother. I'm home."

"Ellis?" Mother runs a hand through Elise's long hair. "What's happened to you?"

"It's a long story."

### Chapter 10

There were some people who wrongly thought Velocity Man could walk on water. There had been a cult who believed him to be the second coming of Christ because of this. The ringleader of the cult had been put in jail when he tried to kill Velocity Man, believing him to be the Messiah who would spring back to life in three days.

Allison had tried to explain to that man and everyone else that no one could _walk_ on water. The second you tried, gravity would pull you down and you'd be looking for dry clothes. The trick is to run fast enough that you can outwit gravity. She had given reporters the simplistic example of cartoon characters; they were able to walk over a cliff as long as they didn't look down. Once they stopped to do this, gravity took charge.

Allison thinks about this as she paces the pier. She has to be able to build up enough speed when she runs off the pier that she can escape the forces of gravity. First she has to be able to do anything in these damned boots. Whoever heard of trying to run in heels? You didn't see Olympic sprinters wearing spike heels in the hundred-meter dash.

"Believe me, this wasn't my idea," Major Dalton had said. She gestured to the hole in Allison's costume that exposed most of her ample cleavage. "Neither was that. I think the boys they got to make these haven't been out of the basement for a while."

Allison would love a new pair of shoes, but there aren't any that will work. She can't wear a normal pair of shoes; the soles would melt before she got two miles. She had created her own special friction-resistant polymer for her old boots. What had happened to those? They probably wouldn't have fit, but they would still be better than these damnable things.

"It's not that difficult, sweetheart," Ms. Cash says. "You have to glide, nice and easy."

She does a catwalk strut on the pier for Allison. "That's not very helpful. Have you ever had to _run_ in those shoes?" Cash only stares at her. She's probably never had to run anywhere in her life. Men wouldn't think to abandon her, plus she always had assistants and sycophants surrounding her.

Allison takes a deep breath. She needs to relax. She thinks back to when she first discovered her ability. Back then Alan Bass had been a nineteen-year-old research intern at Grant Laboratories. He had been part of a project to find a cure for asthma, something Alan had a personal stake in.

His supervisor, Dr. Folds, allowed him to work as late as he wanted in the lab. Alan kept a cot in there so he wouldn't have to go home. He could work until he was too exhausted to see and then crash on the cot. He was nearing that point when the accident happened.

They had been working on a stimulant for the respiration system, a sort of steroid that would allow the lungs to become strong enough to resist the asthma. Alan hadn't been stupid enough to try the stimulant on himself. It was a simple mistake. He had been about to put a sample in storage when it slipped from his fingers. The vial shattered on the desk, the contents forming a noxious blue cloud.

Alan thought he would die that night. He hadn't been able to breathe for what felt like several minutes. His heart beat so fast he thought it would burst from his chest. He lay on his knees, suffocating and seemingly having a heart attack at the same time. He finally, mercifully, passed out.

When he woke up, he stared at the floor of the lab, unable to believe he was still alive. His breathing had returned to normal, as had his heart rate. If he didn't know better, he would have thought it all to be a dream.

There was a knock on the door. Alan got up to answer it. That was when it happened. He crossed the room in a microsecond. It happened so fast he could only blink in surprise. Had he really just gone ten feet in the blink of an eye?

Someone knocked on the door again. Alan reached up for the knob, his hand working so fast he didn't see it. When he pulled the door open, he stumbled and hit the floor again.

As he lay there, he saw Sally Perkins, his future wife. She was eighteen years old then, a stunning little blond girl who could have been captain of the cheerleading squad if she hadn't been more interested in science. She smiled down on him. "Hi. I didn't realize you were still working in here."

"Oh, I'm always working," Alan said. He took the hand she offered, grateful to let her do the work of pulling him up as he couldn't trust his own body at the moment.

"Have a little accident?" she asked, gesturing to the broken glass.

"You could say that."

"Are you all right?" She put a hand to his forehead. "You're a little warm."

"I'm fine...just fine," he said. In midsentence the realization hit him that just yesterday if a girl like Sally had talked to him, he would have needed his inhaler after two seconds. But now his breathing continued nice and steady, just like a normal person. The compound worked!

It did come with a side effect, though. He could now move faster than anyone on Earth. In a deserted parking lot he clocked himself. He could go from zero to sixty miles an hour in a millionth the time of the most powerful sports car.

In that same parking lot he found out he would need some new footwear. After his first test, his pair of sneakers had become a charred mess while his feet had second-degree burns. The burns healed by the next morning. Another side effect of the accident was that many of his body's functions had sped up. When he deliberately pricked a finger with a needle, he watched in amazement as the blood stopped in a second and the hole disappeared another second later.

He spent days locked up in the lab to run tests on himself. What he saw in the slides was unbelievable. If he didn't know better, he would think it impossible. His biochemistry had become...superhuman.

But the idea to become an actual superhero didn't come until his first date with Sally. They were walking home from the movies when someone yanked Sally's purse off her shoulder. "My purse!" she shouted.

"I'll get it," Alan promised as the purse-snatcher ran down a side street. Alan took off and soon found himself actually passing the snatcher. He came to a stop just in time to punch the snatcher in the throat. While the crook wheezed on the ground, Alan took back the purse. Then, looking down at his charred shoes and bright red feet, he took the snatcher's shoes. "Serves you right," he mumbled.

Thus was Velocity Man born. Though first Alan had needed to create the friction-resistant polymers so he wouldn't need a new costume each time he sped up. That had taken weeks of trial and error, during which time he hardly saw Sally. He had nearly lost her then—

She'd be lost for sure unless Allison got moving. She thought again of those early days. There hadn't been any trick to it; she had just done it. That's what she has to do this time. Don't worry that her feet are smaller and clad in ridiculous shoes. Her feet are still her feet; they'll know what to do. All she has to do is trust them. It's like a cartoon character walking over a cliff; you just have to not look down.

"Here we go," she mumbles. And then she's off. Her feet hit the surface of the water, but they keep moving. Loose hair whips into her eyes. She brushes it aside to find herself in the middle of the ocean. She plunges on.

***

It takes her five minutes to reach Focal City. She chides herself for being so slow; it should have taken half that time to get here. She chalks it up to her new body, these heels, and this damned hair getting in her face. Would it have killed them to give her a piece of ribbon or something to tie it back with?

She stops alongside a shipping container on the docks to survey the situation. A crane a short distance away is frozen with another shipping container suspended a few feet beneath it. The driver is motionless at his controls. She sees more dockworkers standing rigid like statues.

Inertia's frozen the whole city, no doubt. She's done it before, a device of her own manufacture creating a quantum field that causes all time to stop. Allison is only able to move through it by accelerating her molecules enough to resist the effects.

She hurries through a city that looks like a life-size diorama. In the park she finds someone poised in midair as he goes to spike a volleyball. It's tempting to put the man down on the ground so he doesn't hurt himself when things speed back up, but she doesn't have time to do that for everyone. She'll have to hope for the best.

While she searches for Inertia, she makes a stop in a department store. In the hair care section she finds a pack of elastic bands and takes one out. With this she's able to pull back her hair into a ponytail. She remembers doing this for Jenny once her hair got long enough to need it; she never thought she'd need to do it to herself.

With that problem solved, she continues her search. She has no idea what Inertia might have come here for: money, priceless works of art, or maybe even to kidnap someone. She's tried all those plans before and been foiled each time. After a while you'd think she would learn, but Inertia's always been a slow learner.

She gets her first clue when she sees a pair of F-22 fighters suspended in the air, probably a couple of Dalton's "assets" sent to deal with the situation. One has its bomb bay open, an air-to-ground missile poised to streak away from it. To where? She traces the path with her eyes.

"Oh no," she whispers a moment before a blue glass skyscraper explodes. Allison charges forward to move any bystanders away from the blast zone. That the explosion is going at normal speed means Inertia must be using a special kind of bomb.

As Allison pushes a woman with a stroller back to a safe area, she realizes she's going to get a chance to find out what Inertia's up to. The woman is rounding a corner of a nearby building, her pink-and-purple suit making her stand out even more than being the only one besides Allison moving at normal speed.

Inertia doesn't have nearly the speed of Allison even in her new body with these stupid heels. Allison catches up to her after half a block. She throws Inertia into the revolving door of an office building. As Inertia is trying to recover, Allison speeds over to grab her by a boot.

She drags the villain out onto the sidewalk. Inertia grins up at her. "Well, what do we have here? You Speedy's new girlfriend?"

"Something like that," Allison says. "What are you doing here?"

"Just having a little fun."

"Fun? There were hundreds of people in that building!" Allison can't tell Inertia those people were her friends and colleagues from T.U.R.B.O. Labs. Instead, she kicks Inertia in the ribs with one spike-toed boot. "What were you after?"

When Inertia doesn't answer, Allison kicks her again and again, thinking of all the good people who are now most likely gone. Her vision blurs as tears bubble up in her eyes. "Why?" she shrieks.

Finally Inertia says, "They said he was dead!"

"Who?"

"Your boyfriend. They said he was dead."

"Why the labs? What was there you wanted to destroy?"

"I knew he worked with them. I figured if I took it out, it'd draw him out." Inertia grins again. "I guess I got something even better."

"Shut up!"

Allison rains down a flurry of furious punches at superspeed. Inertia's nose snaps, blood dripping from it. She'll probably have a black eye tomorrow morning too. Even that's too good for her. "You monster! You did all this just to draw me out?" When she sees Inertia's eyes widen, Allison realizes her mistake. "I mean—"

"Holy shit! You're _him_?" Her grin widens to expose a couple of broken teeth. "You really got cute, didn't you?"

"Shut up!" Allison shouts again.

"Wait until I Tweet this—"

Allison hefts Inertia to her feet. Allison realizes she's an inch or two shorter than Inertia now even with the heels. She's still tall enough to look Inertia in the eye. "You aren't going to get a chance to Tweet anything. I'll make sure they put you in the deepest hole they can find."

She drags Inertia over to the nearest police officer. Allison takes the man's cuffs to snap around Inertia's wrists. Then she leaves Inertia in the back of the officer's cruiser. She doesn't plan to keep her there; she needs to check something first.

***

Allison races up fifteen blocks, to her old building. Like the rest of the city, everyone's frozen in place. Her neighbor, Mrs. Hernandez, has a spoonful of tomato soup poised in front of her lips. The soup is still warm.

Allison bursts into her apartment. "Sally?" she calls out before she remembers Sally can't hear her if she's frozen and even if she did, she wouldn't recognize the voice.

She doesn't find Sally in the living room, kitchen, or dining room. There's no sign of Jenny either. Please, tell me they didn't decide to visit the lab today, she thinks.

She drops to her knees in the bathroom doorway. A sigh of relief escapes her lips. Sally is poised over the tub, one hand in Jenny's hair as she rubs shampoo in. From the chocolate staining her lips yet, Jenny must have made a mess of her lunch and Sally had decided to give her a bath.

Allison gets slowly to her feet. She grips the wall with one hand as her stomach continues to flutter even though the danger has passed. Will Sally be able to remember anything about this later? Will Jenny? She doubts it.

She squats down to put an arm around Sally. "I love you." She kisses her wife's damp lips. They're still warm but Allison feels like she's kissing a corpse. She turns to put a hand on her daughter's wet hair. "Daddy's going to be home real soon, angel," she whispers.

Then she's gone.

### Chapter 11

Starla needs to get a running start before she can launch herself into the air. She has the same difficulty as Allison thanks to the spike heeled boots they gave her. She doesn't know why anyone would make footwear this impractical. For that matter why did they make her skirt so short and cut out half the top part of her costume? If Ma saw her like this, she'd faint dead away from the sight and not just because the son she'd raised had become a daughter.

If Stan had brought over a girl who looked like this to the farm, Pa would have tanned his hide—verbally at least since by the time he was fourteen it was impossible for Pa to hurt him physically. It had happened when Stan brought over Lucy Chesnutt, the hottest girl in middle school. Stan had been excited to land such a catch and thought his parents would agree. Pa had taken him outside and said, "A girl like that is nothing but trouble. She's only good for one thing and once she's used up from that she'll be nothing more than a husk." Pa had held up an ear of corn to demonstrate. He'd peeled it to leave Stan with the husk.

That's what his parents would think now if they saw Starla. They'd call her a hussy, a tart, and possibly worse. She wipes tears from her eyes and curses herself. That's not important right now. There are lives at stake. Even if she has to go stark naked, she has to save them.

She concentrates on getting one foot in front of the other. As she reaches the end of the pier, she launches into the air. There's a microsecond where she isn't sure if she'll make it or not and then she finds herself hundreds of feet over the base. It's located on a nondescript island in the Pacific. Close to Indonesia, she would guess. She memorizes the location for when she has to come back. When she does, she plans to have a little chat with Major Dalton not just about the costume, but about the island's existence in general. Secret government facilities are not something she approves of.

Starla gets into the jet stream to help carry her across the ocean and then across North America to Atomic City. The sea and then the land beneath her look so calm. From up here, and especially in space, it seems impossible for the world to be riddled with so much evil. She always thinks that's how God must see it.

The skyscrapers for Atomic City come into view from almost a hundred miles away. There are so many that are so tall it seems like they should sink the island beneath their combined weight. The main island probably isn't much bigger than that housing the secret facility in the Pacific, but it's much more populated. There are over ten million people there, most of them good, hard-working souls who only want to go about their lives without interruption.

But an interruption is what they're getting. It comes in the form of a black teardrop-shaped craft. There's a swarm of smaller objects surrounding it while a beam of green light from the main craft tears into Fermi Square to lop off the head of a statue of the inventor.

Starla's infrared vision kicks in on its own, allowing her to see hundreds of thousands of tiny heat signatures descending upon the city from the main craft, which has only one occupant. That has to be Rad Geiger, the disgruntled nuclear scientist who had sworn revenge on the city, especially Apex Man, for thwarting Geiger's scheme to irradiate the entire population of Atomic City. Geiger believed that through radioactivity, human evolution could advance to some "perfect" design.

He continues to believe this despite that every scientific authority on the planet has told him radiation is deadly to humans. As Starla gets closer, she notes the tiny heat signatures are much too hot to be anything natural. She has to shake her head in order to get the IR vision to stop. With her regular eyes she sees the smaller objects are bees. Irradiated killer bees, she's willing to bet given Geiger's m.o.

The question is what can she do about them? There's no way she can grab all those bees to cart them away. The only viable solution is to use her flame breath to incinerate them. She hates to kill any living creature, but these deadly bees are already an environmental disaster in the works.

As she descends through the clouds, a tress of hair flaps into her face, momentarily blinding her. By the time she swats it away, she's already in the midst of a swarm of bees. Most of them key in on her; it probably helps most of her costume is bright yellow like a bee.

She leads the swarm over the harbor. It's easy enough for her to outrun them, so she has to go slow to make sure they can keep up. Once she judges she's out far enough, she unleashes the torrent of flame she's been holding in for more than a week. A shorter belch of smoke follows this.

For a moment she hovers limp in the air, glad to finally be rid of that heat. Then her super hearing picks up screams from Fermi Square. She still has a job to do.

***

The bees have descended upon the tourists and businesspeople who usually inhabit the square in the middle of the day. Starla wastes no time to drop into the square. Again hair whips into her face, so that her graceful landing turns into a comical plunge that ends with her somersaulting across half the plaza until she smacks into the base of the Fermi statue.

Someone touches her. She hears the familiar voice of Billy Leyton, the freelance photographer who's often worked for Stan Shaw's newspaper. "Are you all right, miss?" he asks in his chipper voice.

She sweeps hair away from her face and smiles. "I'm fine. But you won't be if you don't get out of here."

When she gets to her feet, he gapes at her in awe. "Wow," is all he can manage to get out. Only after a moment of staring does he remember the camera around his neck. "Can I get a picture?"

"Maybe later. I'm a little busy right now."

"Sure thing, miss."

She shoves Billy back as gently as she can as more of the bees head her way. She hopes she can control her fire breath well enough in the confined space of the square so she doesn't burn everything up. With her eyes closed to focus, she lets loose another stream of flame. This one is small enough to vaporize a cloud of bees while not turning the civilians in the square to puddles of goo.

"Holy cow!" Billy shouts. She hears him snap his camera time and again. She should probably grab the camera, but there's no time. In this day and age everyone with a cell phone probably already has her picture so it won't do much good.

The bees seem to prefer her to normal people. Allison or Rob could probably give her a scientific explanation, but she figures her alien body must look tastier to them. As each group of bees comes at her, she leads them into the air to harmlessly vaporize them. Before long there are only a few left.

The stragglers are more difficult as she has to hunt them down to swat them with her hands. One of these tries to sting her left hand, but it can't get through her skin. That at least kills the thing on its own.

Once she's cleaned up the square, she heads up into the air. Geiger's ship has already begun to head east, out towards international waters. She doesn't plan to let him get that far.

As she closes in on the ship, she shakes her IR vision on. She can see Geiger's rotund body at the front of the craft, probably in the cockpit. Has he got any surprises in there for her? A gamma radiation grenade perhaps? He's used similar tricks in the past.

She comes up with an easy solution to defeat any booby traps he might have on board. She dives beneath the ship until she's near the tops of the waves. Then, after again batting hair from her face, she changes direction to head straight up. She picks up enough speed that it's easy enough for her to tear right through the bottom of the ship.

Her estimates were right, as she tears beneath Geiger's chair. He screams as she yanks the seat out through the hole. The ship begins to fall away from them while Starla tosses Geiger's chair into the ocean. She holds him at bay with one hand on the front collar of his shirt.

"What were you up to this time, Geiger?" she asks. "Were you going to use radioactive bees to irradiate the people?"

Geiger's mouth moves but no words come out. His eyes bulge and his red face begins to drip with sweat. When she glances down between his legs, she sees the explanation for this reaction. It's tempting to drop the pervert into the ocean, but she carries him back to land, where police are waiting for him.

She hopes to drop Geiger and leave, but Kate King is already there, Billy at her side, snapping away. "Excuse me, ma'am, Kate King of the _Atomic City Star_. Would you mind if I ask a few questions?"

"I really don't have time," Starla says. "There are more people who need me."

She starts to fly away, but she feels heavier. With a start she sees Kate clinging to her left boot; Kate never was one to let go of a story easily. Since they're already a hundred feet off the ground, Starla can't just shake Kate away without hurting her.

Instead, she drifts over to the rooftop of an old apartment building. Kate refuses to let go until Starla lands. "That wasn't very smart," Starla chides her. "You could have been killed."

"I wasn't about to miss this story. A female superhero! It's unbelievable."

"Not _that_ unbelievable," Starla says tartly. She could try to escape now, but there's no guarantee Kate wouldn't manage to grab her boot or cape before she did. "I really don't have time for an interview right now. If you'll excuse me—"

"Hold on. This is big news. Not just because you're a woman either. No one's seen or heard from Apex Man in weeks and now here you are, with all the same powers and pretty much the same costume. You've even got the same color hair!"

"What are you saying?"

"Well, did Apex Man decide to go off and get a sex change? Were you always a woman trapped in a man's body?"

"That's ridiculous. I'm not Apex Man. I'm...his cousin."

"His cousin? I thought everyone on his home planet was killed?"

With her wholesome farm upbringing, Starla's never been much of a liar, but the mention of her home planet gives her an idea for a cover story that should make Major Dalton proud. "I was lost in space from before my planet died. I was in a cryochamber, drifting along. I finally ended up in your solar system, where my cousin found me. He took me to your planet and helped me adjust to my new abilities. He even made me a costume like his own."

"So where is he?"

"He left. He went to look for more ships, in case there are any others like me. He told me to fill in for him until he gets back."

Kate scribbles down notes furiously on a notepad; she insists on still using the low-tech method. "That's quite a story. So what are we supposed to call you? Apex Woman?"

"That's fine with me," Starla says.

"I suppose you won't let me see beneath the mask either, right?"

"My cousin said it's best not to. It could be dangerous for me."

"Right. Well, look, maybe you have some questions about Earth? It has to be confusing to you after living on another planet and drifting in space for so long."

Starla knows what Kate's trying to do. She wants to draw Starla in, to make her a confidante so she can get more exclusive dirt on Apex Woman. It's the same thing any dedicated journalist would do in order to get the best story. "Perhaps another time," Starla says. "I really have to go."

"Sure. Take my card. If you have somewhere to put it under there."

Sarla's cheeks warm as she takes Kate's card. Kate is right that there isn't anywhere to put it except perhaps between her breasts. She opts to tuck it inside her boot. "Thank you. We'll talk again soon."

As Starla lifts off, she doesn't know why she said the last part.

### Chapter 12

The guards open the door and then shove Midnight inside. She doesn't run to her bed to flop on it like a pouting kid. Instead, she drops to the floor to do some push-ups. Or at least one push-up. She's barely managed to lift herself off the floor when Jasper says, "What are you doing?"

"Exactly what it looks like." She groans as she struggles to push herself up as high as her arms can stretch. She holds it there for a moment before she collapses onto the floor.

"I think there might be exercises better suited to your new body. Aerobics perhaps. Or that Brazilian stuff that's all the rage—"

"Zumba? Are you serious?" She rolls over onto her side to glare at him. "I've been trained by the foremost masters of the martial arts in the world. I'm not doing fucking Zumba."

"Such language isn't really appropriate for a girl your age, Mistress Robin."

"You're loving this, aren't you? Your little birdie's flown back into the nest. It's a _freaking_ dream come true for you."

"Don't be absurd. I never wanted anything like this to happen to you. Now, would you care to tell me what's really got the bee in your bonnet?"

"It's none of your business."

"Does it have something to do with those burly gentlemen who showed you in here? Were you sticking your nose where it didn't belong?"

Midnights sighs and sits up. She stares down at her tiny feet in their scuffed sneakers. "Major Dalton grounded me, I guess you could say. She'll probably make me go to bed without supper now too."

"Why ever would she do such a thing?"

"Because she thinks I'm useless. Just like everyone else." Midnight screams with rage as tears start to come. She throws herself back to the floor to attempt another push-up. As her puny muscles attempt to lift her up, she explains to Jasper about the threats in Pacifica, Focal City, and Atomic City. "She let all of them go, but I have to stay here."

"That seems like a wise idea. A girl who can't do one push-up isn't going to be much use in a fight with those blokes."

"She offered to let me use one of the computer terminals. Like she really needs me to tap a few keys like those drones in the command center."

"Perhaps she was trying to spare your feelings."

"I'm sure." With another groan Midnight pushes herself up. This time she manages to drop to the floor in a more graceful fashion. "I don't need her to spare my feelings. I need her to let me do my freaking job!"

"Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"I didn't put all those assholes in jail because I was bigger and stronger than them, or even because I had better toys. I did it because I was smarter than them. I knew how to use my skills to their best advantage. Turning into a girl didn't change that."

"That's an interesting theory."

"It's not a theory! It's a motherfucking fact! You'll see. You'll all see when I get out of here."

Midnight continues her slow push-ups until she's too spent to go on. Jasper rushes to her side. She's too weak to fight him off as he scoops her up. For an old man, Jasper manages to carry her as if she weighs nothing. He drops her on the bed and then proceeds to start tucking her in the way he did when she was a little boy.

"I don't need you to do this," Midnight says. "I can take care of myself."

"I've known that for a long time, Mistress Robin." He smiles at her. "I do it anyway."

"Thanks," she says. She manages the strength to sit up and hug him. He eases her back onto the bed and then turns out the light. She hears the chair next to the bed creak before she falls asleep.

***

She wakes to a voice growling something, followed by Jasper whispering, "I'm sorry, but Mistress Robin is sleeping right now."

"I don't give a good goddamned what she's doing. Get her out here in two minutes or I'll have these gentlemen come in to take her."

Midnight sits up in bed. She gropes around until she finds the switch for the reading lamp attached to the headboard. "What's going on?" she asks.

"We're having a briefing in the lounge in five minutes," Dalton says.

"I'll be right there." Midnight throws back the blankets and realizes Jasper took off her shoes. She finds them on the floor beneath the bed. After she slips into them, she hurries to catch up with Dalton and her goons. Jasper falls in behind her.

"Are you sure you want to do this? I could make you a cup of tea—"

"Good, go make some tea. Bring it into the lounge," Midnight snaps. She doesn't like to be so rude to Jasper, who's been like a father to her, but she can't let him baby her. Even if she's a young girl on the outside, she's still a grown man on the inside.

She finds Allison and Starla in the lounge, but not Elise. Did something happen to that prissy bitch? Despite their differences, especially since their run-in with the Feminazi, Midnight hopes not. Allison and Starla are still clad in their ridiculous outfits; Allison cries quietly into an olive drab handkerchief one of the grunts must have given to her.

Dalton reaches into one pocket for a printout. It's the main screen of the _Atomic City Star_ 's blog. A headline proclaims: _Meet Apex Girl!_ This is followed by the subheader: _Female Superhero Picks Up Where Cousin Left Off_. Dalton turns to Starla. "What the hell were you thinking? You were supposed to take care of Geiger and get your ass back here quietly, not pose for pictures and do a goddamned interview!"

"I'm sorry. Kate is very tenacious," Starla mumbles. "She didn't leave me much choice."

"You could have flown away."

"They'd still have pictures. And then Kate King and everyone else would be making up her own story," Midnight says. "You should be glad Starla got out in front of it."

"I don't need crisis control tips from you, young lady," Dalton snaps.

"Leave Robin alone. She didn't do anything," Starla says. Her eyes glow for a moment before she shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Major. I wasn't thinking clearly at the time. It's been so long since I've seen Kate—"

Starla begins to blubber too. Midnight shakes her head with disgust. "So what happened to Elise?"

"We haven't been able to raise her. I have someone en route to contact her."

"So why did you bring us here? I thought this was supposed to be a briefing."

"It is. I've got new orders. We're going to be releasing you soon."

Starla and Allison look up from their blubbering. "We can go home?" Allison asks.

"That's what the briefing is about. I already gave you all new identities. You will be expected to maintain those identities once you're released. This means no contact with your families or other people you cared about before. We can't risk anyone else finding out what's happened to you four."

"Else? What's that supposed to mean?" Midnight asks.

Allison's cheeks turn red. "I accidentally let it slip to Inertia when I captured her. But she's not going to be able to tell anyone, is she?"

"Let's hope not," Dalton says. "Now, Starla and Allison, you'll be provided with new apartments and cover jobs. Think of this like witness protection. You're getting a whole new lease on life. Understand?"

Starla and Allison nod. Midnight asks, "What about me?"

"You can go home with Jasper. The Justice Department has already worked up the papers to name you Jasper's ward. He'll have complete control of your assets until you turn eighteen."

"What's he supposed to tell the board?"

"We've already got it worked out in the packet I gave you. Didn't you bother to study it?" When Midnight only shrugs, Dalton says, "Rob Holloway has decided to drop off the grid and go live with some monks in Nepal to find inner peace. You are the illegitimate daughter he didn't know about before he left. Your mother is dead and you tracked down your birth father and now Jasper is looking after you. Got it?"

"That'll never work," Midnight says.

"It should work fine as long as no one goes poking holes in it. And why should they? Everyone knows Rob Holloway is a womanizing flake, don't they? You gave us a lot of help already in selling this story."

"I guess," Midnight mutters.

"On top of your new civilian identities, Allison and Starla, you'll have your new superhero identities too. Obviously Starla's already established hers. Provided Elise makes it back here without incident, we'll have a press conference in two days to reveal the new, female Super Squad featuring Apex Girl, Velocity Gal, and the Mermaid."

"Velocity Gal? I'm not some kid sidekick," Allison grumbles.

"Sorry, but Starla already established the pattern."

"I told Kate it was Apex _Woman_. Larry probably made her change it. He's always been stuck in the past."

"Or maybe your girlfriend changed it," Midnight teases.

"That's not funny," Starla snaps.

Before an argument can start up, Dalton says, "The three of you are going to do a little goodwill tour across the globe. We're already setting it up with the UN. We want to make sure you gals are highly visible to deter any more attacks like those Allison and Starla thwarted."

"Don't you think someone will eventually put it together that they look almost exactly like female versions of the old Super Squad?" Midnight asks. "Maybe you should let Cash dye their hair too."

"It's too late for that. We'll have to hope people are too grateful their lives are being saved to worry about it." Dalton sighs and then tosses the blog printout away. "This isn't how I wanted it to go. I would have preferred to keep you here until we could find a way to change you back. Or at least have better covers worked out. But it's not up to me, so we'll have to make do and hope for the best."

Allison raises her hand as though they're in school. "What are you going to tell my wife about why I'm gone so long? She won't believe I abandoned her and Jenny to live with some monks in Nepal."

"This may be hard for you and Starla to accept, but we'll have to arrange for your male identities to die in 'accidents.' The attack on T.U.R.B.O. Labs was fortunate in one way. We can say you died along with the others. As for Starla, well, the CIA will arrange for Stan Shaw to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"The Pentagon, Justice Department, and CIA are all in on this? How do you expect to keep anything secret?" Midnight asks.

"They're only working on a need-to-know basis. The only ones who know everything are us and a select few higher-ups. We've even kept the president in the dark about it."

"So much for the Commander-in-Chief," Midnight grumbles.

Dalton claps her hands. "All right, ladies, I know this will be a rough transition for you. Rougher than it's already been. We're going to have a counselor on hand should you need one. And if you need any help with your wardrobes or decorating your apartments or whatnot, Ms. Cash is still on call. Like I said, though, you should see this as a fresh start. It's a second chance for all of you. Not many people get that."

"Lucky us," Midnight mutters.

"But I was happy before!" Allison shouts. She has to wipe furiously at her eyes with the handkerchief. "I don't want a new life. I want my old one back."

"Then you'll have to find a way to change yourself back," Dalton says. "We're going to put you up in a lab at Grant Laboratories with all the help you need. That's your cover job."

"What about me?" Starla asks. "What am I supposed to do?"

"We've got a nice office job for you. I'll give you the details later. Right now, I want you to go back to your rooms, change, and get some rest. You've done good work today saving the world. Be proud of yourselves."

Midnight crosses her arms, knowing this is meant for only Starla and Allison. Midnight didn't do anything except a few measly push-ups in her room before she took a nap. She's the first to bolt from the lounge, back to her room. She finds Jasper there with two cups of tea. He smiles at her. "I'm afraid they wouldn't let me in the room with you," he says. "How did it go?"

Midnight glares at him. "You knew they were naming you my legal guardian, didn't you?"

"That was one of the reasons they brought me here."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wasn't quite sure how without upsetting you even more."

"Well, don't get too comfortable with it. A year and I'll be back in charge of everything."

"Yes, of course. I'll try not to bring the Holloway empire down during my brief reign."

"Smart ass," Midnight says. She fetches the packet Dalton had given to her days ago and starts to read through it, to acquaint herself with her new life.

### Chapter 13

Midnight watches the press conference while she jogs on the treadmill in the bunker's gym. What a farce, she thinks as she watches Apex Girl bend a machine gun like a pretzel. She cocks one arm back and then hurls it towards Oakland. Velocity Gal speeds away to catch the gun and race back to the conference like the world's fastest golden retriever.

Major Dalton and the Pentagon brass decided to locate the press conference in San Francisco so they could be close to water. This allows the Mermaid to summon a pair of humpback whales into the harbor. She waves to the crowd from atop one whale like it's a parade float. Instead of throwing candy, the Mermaid throws kisses to the throng of media simpletons.

If Midnight had a gun, she would shoot the TV screen like Elvis famously did. Instead she jogs faster on the treadmill, until sweat runs down her face and makes her baggy T-shirt stick to her body. Without prompting, Jasper tosses her a towel. "It certainly is entertaining," he says.

"So's a goddamned circus," Midnight growls. She gestures to the screen as Apex Girl destroys a mannequin with a burst of fire. "This is why I said we shouldn't have gotten mixed-up with the military. They've become a bunch of freaking USO girls. All they need to do is bring in Bob Hope."

"Major Dalton thinks this demonstration will help deter some of the nasty people out there."

Midnight scoffs at this. "Yeah, right. All it will do is make the loonies come out in force. Everyone's going to want a piece of these girls. Literally in some cases—and in both meanings of the phrase."

"It's a bit early for such cynicism, isn't it?"

"We'll see." She wads the towel up to throw it into the hamper fifty feet away; it gets less than half that. She needs to build up some arm strength, but she had to acknowledge Jasper was right about the aerobics. Before she can focus on strength training she needs to get her endurance back. She eyes the timer: fifteen minutes and she already feels ready to pass out.

With a sigh she shuts down the treadmill. She gratefully accepts a bottle of water from Jasper. Half of it she pours over her head while the other half she chugs down. She collapses in the chair at her computer terminal so she can watch the rest of the circus.

"I guess I should be glad they didn't ask me to be part of this freak show," she says.

"Are you glad?"

"Don't start talking like that counselor."

"You really should give her another chance. She might be able to do some good."

"I'll be fine once I get in shape."

"We'll see."

She turns to him, her eyes narrowing. "Isn't there a mantel to dust or some silver to polish upstairs?"

"Very well, Mistress Robin, I shall leave you to your brooding."

"Thanks."

She hears Jasper's footsteps on the stairs as he goes back up to the mansion. She turns up the press conference. Now that the demonstrations are over, Dalton begins to take questions for the new Super Squad. The first ones are the inane type asking the girls where they came from and how they got their powers and all that. From the flat way Allison and Starla say their lines, it's obvious they're just reading what the Pentagon wrote for them. Elise is the only one who doesn't look as if she's auditioning for a hostage video on Al-Jazeera.

"I guess you could say I've always had these powers," Elise says with a dopey giggle. "I just never realized it while I was in Pacifica. I hadn't even seen the surface world until I washed up on Midway Island during a typhoon. Until that point I thought everyone had gills and could talk to sea creatures."

Another dopey giggle secures the hearts—and lower body parts—of the male reporters, and probably most of the female ones too. Kate King still has enough objectivity to ask, "I thought only Pacifican royals could talk to sea creatures?"

"Yes and I am of noble blood. My father is Lord Neptune."

"You're Neptune's _daughter_? I always heard he wasn't much into women," King says, a deliberate double entendre at the end.

Elise's fists clench and her cheeks redden with what Midnight thinks must be real outrage to be publicly outed. "Maybe you shouldn't believe everything you hear."

Midnight wonders who Elise will be taking to bed now: boys or girls? No one has the guts to ask a question like that. One clown, probably a blogger, asks, "Are you girls married?"

Elise makes another dopey giggle. "Gosh, no," she says.

Allison's face reddens, but she manages to hold back tears as Dalton answers, "No, none of them are married. That's the only personal question I'll allow. We don't want these girls to compromise their secret identities."

A wag in the back asks, "How do we know these girls are really superheroes and not special effects whipped up by Hollywood?"

"I think the people of Atomic City and Pacifica can already answer that question," Dalton says.

Midnight studies the reporter during this exchange. The man wears a brown suit that looks like it just came off the rack. Below his hat the hair is close-cropped in military fashion. When she zooms in, she sees a West Point ring on his finger.

It's not a surprise to her when the reporter pulls a gun from his pocket. "Let's see how good you really are!" he shouts. He empties the revolver at the podium. Apex Girl steps in front of the podium to deflect the bullets away. Meanwhile, Velocity Gal shoots forward to twist the gun from the man's hand. She takes him down with a superspeed punch to the gut.

While the reporters nearby panic, Midnight laughs to herself. Major Dalton didn't miss a trick. The bullets probably were real and from their reactions it's unlikely Starla or Allison knew about the shooter beforehand. Dalton had counted on them saving her from an assassin she had planted in the audience. If the public didn't believe in the new Super Squad by now, they surely would after that display.

She turns off the screen and then trudges back to the treadmill for another round of jogging.

***

Jasper returns at six o'clock while Midnight is in the middle of a set of lunges. "Dinner is ready, Mistress Robin."

"Where is it?" she asks.

"It's in the dining room. I thought perhaps now that you'll be staying home at night, we could eat like civilized people."

"Is casual dress acceptable or should I go get in my Sunday best?"

"I would prefer if you at least took a shower first."

"Sure." Midnight's legs are too weak to climb the stairs after hours of aerobics, so she takes the elevator to the second floor.

She takes a long shower, the warm water soothing her tired muscles—or what pass for muscles. They don't have any definition yet, but in a few months she should be toned and ready to do battle again. That is if this pace doesn't kill her first.

Jasper has helpfully laid out a bright pink tracksuit and white T-shirt for her. She hates the color but is too tired to dig around for something better. By the time she returned from the government's secret facility, she had an entirely new wardrobe in the master bedroom. All of Rob Holloway's Armani suits and the like are up in the attic to collect dust.

The old man is already in the dining room, sitting to the left of the head of the table by the time she comes down in her tacky tracksuit.

"I'm surprised you're not taking that seat for yourself," she says.

"This is still your house, even if the government doesn't think so."

She lifts the lid over her plate to find a heap of spaghetti drenched in sauce Jasper had learned to make while working for a family in Venice. While lean proteins would probably do better to get her back in shape, some carbo loading might help to put some meat on her scrawny frame. And Jasper's spaghetti is damned good.

While she digs into hers, he hardly touches his. The special meal, insisting they eat it in the dining room, his nerves—he's got something on his mind. She puts down her fork. "Why did you bring me up here?"

"I thought—"

"Save it and get to the point."

Jasper clears his throat. "When I was talking with those blokes from the Justice Department, one of them reminded me that in this state, all minors are required to attend school."

"I already have a high school diploma. And six college degrees."

"Honorary degrees don't really count," he says.

"Whatever. The point is, I'm already educated."

"Yes, I know, but there are certain protocols—"

"Fine, then we'll say you're homeschooling me. Let them give me a damned GED test if they want."

"I suppose that would work."

Midnight sighs and shakes her head. "You want me to go to school?"

"In talking with that nice counselor, we thought perhaps it would help you adjust to your new situation. You could make some friends—"

"I don't need any goddamned friends. I need to get back in shape. I can't do that sitting in homeroom with a bunch of morons who couldn't find Canada if they were standing in it."

"It would only be a few hours a day. You might even enjoy it."

"Oh, sure, maybe I'll start talking on the phone all night about whatever new boy band is popular and join the cheerleading squad and go to the prom with the captain of the football team."

"I don't think that's very likely." They eat in silence for a few minutes. Finally Jasper plays his trump card. "Of course I can persuade you to go. I am your legal guardian."

"You wouldn't do that to me."

"Perhaps I would. If I thought it was in your best interest not to mope around this house all day."

"I'm not moping. I'm training."

"It's much the same thing for you."

"You can drag me to school, but you can't keep me there. I'll sneak off the second your back is turned."

"I imagine you could do that, but Major Dalton has informed me of a certain private academy in Alaska. It's located on an island near the Bering Strait. The only way off is to swim. That is if you want to risk freezing to death or being eaten by a shark or sea lion or whatever creatures inhabit the water. I'm sure Miss Gold would know."

Midnight only has to look Jasper in the eye to know he's not bluffing. She curses herself as tears start to come. She can only fall back on the familiar teenage whine, "This isn't fair."

"It certainly isn't. I thought after dessert, I could show you a few brochures for Swearingen. They've made quite a few changes since you were last there."

"I'm never going to forgive you for this," Midnight says.

"No, but you might thank me later."

### Chapter 14

Elise runs a hand over her dress to smooth out any wrinkles. Before she pushes the door buzzer, she tosses her hair. A giddy thrill runs through her as she hears Paul say, "Who is it?"

"My name's Elise Gold. I'm a friend of Ellis's. I was wondering if I could come up for a minute?"

"Just a second." She hears the buzzer and turns the knob. The elevator is of course down again which necessitates climbing up five flights of stairs. When she gets to the top, she takes the compact out of her purse and swears in Pacifican. Her face is all red now and her hair is starting to frizz from the humidity up here. There are more wrinkles to smooth down in the purple sheath dress she changed into after the press conference and a run in one of her black stockings. There's no time to change; she'll have to make do.

She knocks on Paul's door. He answers a few seconds later. Before he can say anything, she throws herself at him. It's felt like an eternity since she's tasted his lips. There's no real difference to kissing Paul as a woman, except Elise has a tingle inside her instead of a throbbing erection.

He takes her by the arms and pushes her back. "Can I help you?" he says.

She feels her face turn warm. "Oh, silly me. I should have realized you wouldn't recognize me like this."

"Why should I recognize you?"

"It's me! It's Ellis."

"Get the hell out of my house, right now, little girl."

Elise stamps a foot. "First off, I'm not a little girl. Second, I am Ellis. I can prove it to you."

"How?"

"Well, if you want to come with me to the harbor, Manny is waiting to take us to our special place."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I know, it's going to take some getting used to. Why don't you open that 2007 Sassicaia you've been saving for a special occasion and we can talk?" She runs a hand along his chest. "I could make some of that yummy mushroom ragout you like?"

Paul pushes her back again. "I don't know what your game is, but I don't like it. Get out of here right now before I call the police."

"Honey, please, I'm telling the truth. It's me. Just give me a few minutes to explain."

Paul takes his phone from his pocket. "You have one minute. Then I'm going to dial 911."

"You remember when Alan came to pull me away for some big mission? We went to Dr. Roboto's island and I went swimming beneath it but there was a net I couldn't see. It electrocuted me and when I woke up, I was a girl. It happened to all of us: Stan, Alan, and even Rob! Oh my God, you should so get a look at her. She turned into this cute little waif but she's really sour about it."

"That's impossible," he says. He starts to tap the screen on the phone. Elise grabs his hand before he can hit send. He tries to shake her away, but even as a woman she's too strong for him.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt my Pauly-Wally, but you're not leaving me much choice."

"What do you want?"

"I thought that was obvious. I'm back! We can pick up where we left off. Only this time we don't have to hide it from all those stuck-up fogeys in Pacifica. We can get married. I'd even let you knock me up."

She tries to kiss him, but he turns his face away. "Are you insane?" he shouts. "Even if you are Ellis—and that seems really unlikely—we couldn't be together now. Look at you! You're a _girl_!"

"So?"

"Do I really have to spell it out for you? I don't like girls. I like men. If you are Ellis then you'll know that."

"So only my genitals matter to you? Everything else we've shared doesn't matter at all?"

"Of course it matters, but—" he stops and then sighs. "Look, this is all a lot to take in. Why don't I get a bottle of wine and we'll talk about it like you suggested?"

While this is what Elise thought she wanted when she came to the apartment, she shakes her head. "No, you're right. It's not going to work between us anymore. We're too different. I'm sorry to bother you."

With tears in her eyes, she bolts from the apartment and down the stairs. She hears Paul call her old name, but she doesn't stop; it's not her name anymore.

***

She walks down to the end of the block, where there's a hotel bar that unlike the others in the neighborhood serves couples of opposite sexes. Elise orders a white wine from the bartender and then parks at the end of the bar to sip at it. The liquor doesn't do much to ease her heartache.

When this had first happened, Elise had adjusted quicker than the others not because she was gay and practically already a woman to people like Rob Holloway. She had made the adjustment because she had secretly yearned for a way out of her life. She loved Paul and still does, but she hated the sneaking around as much as he had. The only difference was she had come to accept it—until fate threw a way out onto her lap.

While Allison moped about her family and Robin moped about not being a tough guy anymore and Starla moped about whatever she had to mope about, Elise had seen the beauty in what happened to them. There was the physical beauty of course—for her at least—but the metaphorical beauty was more important. The Feminazi had inadvertently given Elise exactly what she wanted. She no longer had to worry about being Lord Neptune, king of Pacifica and ruler of the seven seas. She didn't have to sneak off to a tiny rock in the ocean to be with the man she loved.

Major Dalton had told her it was a second chance and it was. For Elise it was a second chance to have something like a normal life, the kind of life she might have had if her biological father had never found her in New Zealand. She might have to fight the occasional supervillain, but it would still be less stressful than her old life.

She had taken the first steps in her new life after she freed Mother. Everyone wanted to know who had defeated Killer Whale and saved the kingdom. Except for Mother and Baron Triton, no one had seen Elise fight her brother. They had worked quickly to conceal her identity. Mother swore herself to secrecy. As for Baron Triton, he was more than happy to forget a woman had saved the kingdom, especially when that woman could have easily taken his head for cooperating with Killer Whale.

With that settled, Elise slipped into the clothes of a servant girl. She kissed Mother on the cheek before they said their goodbyes. Then Elise swam back through the escape tunnel.

She didn't leave the city. Instead she went to the main plaza, where the survivors of Killer Whale's attack gathered to hear a royal proclamation. It was easy enough for her to blend in with the other commoners in her servant's dress. She listened while the royal herald announced Lord Neptune had been grievously wounded in the attack. While he recovered on a faraway island, a council of royal advisors would oversee the kingdom. The council would be made of men loyal to Elise's father. While Mother would not directly rule, she would oversee the council in private.

And thus was Elise's reign in Pacifica all but ended. She had gleefully swam away, gathering speed as she realized she was free. She had been freed from the yoke of kingship; her life was hers again. At some point, when she either changed back to a man or decided to settle down, she could return to reclaim her birthright.

She had hoped Paul might want to claim that birthright with her, but he had pushed her away. All because she had a vagina instead of a penis. What did it really matter? Love was more than sex, wasn't it? Isn't that what all the songs and romance novels said?

Maybe their relationship had never really been deeper than that. Maybe it had all been sex to him. Maybe he had never really loved her.

She starts to cry as she thinks this. "What's the matter, darling?" a man asks with a western twang, like a movie cowboy.

"I don't want to talk about it," she says.

"No one died, did they?"

She shakes her head. She looks up to see a man with tanned skin and slicked back black hair. His brown eyes are so warm and inviting that she can't look away. "My boyfriend dumped me," she says.

"That man must be a fool to let go of a pretty young lady like you."

Her face turns warm not just at the compliment, but the very idea this man is trying to pick her up. She had seen men giving her the look even back at the military prison, but not up close like this. After Paul's rejection less than an hour ago, it feels good for someone to look at her like she is a desirable woman.

They chat for a little while, during which he orders two more white wines for her and a whiskey sour for himself. Not that he needs to get her drunk to go with him. By the time she finishes the third glass of wine, he casually mentions he has a room upstairs. She grins at him. "Well, let's go see it."

He takes her arm through his and then they head for the elevator.

***

Sex as a woman is a lot less effort, at least this first time. All Elise has to do is get naked and lie on her back. She's no stranger to having a man's penis inside her, though usually she's down on all fours when it happens. It's nice to be able to look up at him and kiss him while he's in the midst of the act.

As he jackhammers away on her, she feels a mix of pain and pleasure. She's heard it said how a woman's first time can be painful; she supposes this is her first time. She hadn't really thought of herself as a virgin before for obvious reasons, but she supposes she is. This thought prompts her to giggle.

"What's so funny?" he asks, probably concerned she's laughing at him.

"You're deflowering a virgin, do you know that?"

He pauses to stare at her. "You're kidding," he says. "Right? No way a girl like you is a virgin."

"A girl like me? What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm easy?"

"No! I mean a girl so beautiful—"

"I know what you mean. Get off me!" She doesn't want to shove him back while he's still inside her. At this point she wouldn't mind if his dick snaps off, but it would be disgusting to have to fish it out of her.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it like that."

"You're damned right. Now get off me. You can go finish the job in the bathroom."

"Now listen, this is my room. You can't go ordering me around."

"You can get off of me or I can snap it off and we'll have two women in the room. Got it?" He stares at her for a moment, trying to gauge if she means it. Then he pulls his cock out of her. She pulls the covers up over her breasts while he staggers off to the bathroom.

While she gets dressed, she hears him mutter, "Goddamned bar floozy."

She charges into the bathroom, hitting him in the side with the door. He stumbles into the shower, where he squats down to protect his privates. "I am _not_ a floozy!"

"Well you sure fooled me, darling."

"You took advantage of me!"

"You went along with it easy enough."

"Only because I was vulnerable. And you drugged me."

"Drugged you?"

"All those glasses of wine you bought me. You wanted to get me drunk!"

"You were gulping them down like a fish."

"A fish? I'll show you a fish!" She steps into the shower and turns on the water. He cries out as a jet of water hits him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"You want to screw a fish? Fine!" she shrieks. As the water runs over her neck, her gills open up. The webbing on her fingers and toes unfurls. His eyes widen with terror. Before he can make any move to escape, she throws herself at him and kisses him.

Before she understands what's happening, she's splayed on the floor of the shower, water running over her while he reenters her. It seems odd since she was so angry with him only a minute ago. Now she wants nothing more than for him to ravage her and then for the two of them to cuddle on the bed for a little while.

Instead of lying back, this time she kisses his chest and claws at his back, often at the same time. She can feel a surge building up within her as he continues to thrust. She lets out first a small moan and then a longer one. Then she screams as the surge finally dissipates in a frenzied burst of pleasure. A few moments later she feels something warm shoot inside her—his seed. He groans and then pulls out of her to lie next to her in the shower.

"That was amazing," he says. He runs a hand along her gills. "Are these real?"

"Of course they are." She smiles at him. "I'm a mermaid."

"From Pacifica?"

"That's right. You ever made it with a Pacifican girl before?"

"Hell no."

"You want to again?"

"Hell yeah," he says with a smile.

"But let's wait until after dinner. I'm starved," she says. She runs a hand through his hair. "Maybe later we can sneak into the pool and I can really show you some things."

"I can't wait."

### Chapter 15

Three minutes after the press conference, Allison is back in the lab. She could have made it in a sixth of that time if not for the slowness of the security computers at Grant Laboratories. Plus there had been the few seconds needed to change out of her uniform, into her civilian clothes.

The lab they've given her isn't much bigger than the closet in her new apartment. She has a computer, a chair, and a Bunsen burner that doesn't work. Anything else she needs, she'll have to find a lab not in use to borrow from.

Her first day on the job, Dr. Lavie made it clear she was lucky to have any lab at all. "The military refuses to say anything about this research of yours. Care to shed any light on the subject, _Dr_. Sable?" The way he said "Doctor" made it clear he didn't think much of her credentials.

"I'm afraid I can't," she said. "It's Top Secret. I wouldn't want to get you in trouble."

"I suppose that's a good idea." He opened the door and said, "This is where you'll be working. Let me know if you need anything."

He left after that, the door slamming on his way out. The cold reception doesn't come as a surprise, not after the way the military strong-armed him into letting her take up some of his precious space. She's sure it chafes even more that she's a woman.

Her lab coat hangs from the back of the door. She puts it on and then takes a pair of wire-framed glasses out of a pocket. The glasses have fake lenses; she picked them up from a drugstore to make her appear a little more grown up and professional.

She logs into the computer and then sighs. She has no idea what she's doing here. There wasn't much recovered from the device the Feminazi used on them. She has no idea what kind of energy it was that had caused this to happen.

With no other leads, she had taken samples of her own blood. She looks over them again, comparing them to samples taken from when she was still a man. It's the same type and from what she can tell there aren't any anomalies that would account for the change. Dr. Harken had already told her this much back at the base, but she wanted to confirm it.

Now what?

For lack of anything better, she goes through the files on Dr. Roboto and other pieces of technology he's used. She should really ask Robin to help her with this; Robin has a lot more experience in searching through computer records. She could run to Redoubt City in about twenty seconds. The only problem will be getting into the mansion as Rob always kept the place rigged with all sorts of booby traps, some probably deadlier than Roboto's.

Will Robin even want to help her? The way she was unceremoniously dumped from the team, she might not be anxious to do them any favors. But if this favor could make her a man again, then she would have to see the reason in that, wouldn't she?

The alarm on Allison's watch beeps. It's not a signal from Major Dalton. This is the less ominous alarm for Jenny getting out of day care. Allison had set it before any of this madness. She doesn't have the heart to change it.

She turns off the alarm and then gets dressed in her costume. Robin probably has everything the military has on Roboto already. If anything, she has more than the military. That will simplify things since she doesn't have any pockets on this suit and anything she carries in her hand is likely to melt or get torn to shreds.

As she starts out, she thinks of the alarm again. The day care is just two seconds away at top speed. She might be able to get there before Sally shows up. Just one little peek at her daughter won't hurt anything, will it?

She stops and then changes direction. It takes two-point-two seconds to get there. It's probably these heels; she's still cautious with them. When she comes to a stop, she's in front of the day care. She arrives in time to see Sally walk away with Jenny's hand in hers.

Stalking isn't the kind of job for Velocity Gal. For one it requires moving slowly and for the other it's difficult in a silver-and-blue suit. This is the kind of job better suited to Allison Sable.

Velocity Gal ducks behind the day care to change again. It's easy enough for her to get back on Sally and Jenny's trail. As she does, Allison asks herself what she's doing. Is she really stalking her own family? She's never felt like such a creep in her life. She ought to get back on her way to see Robin, or even go back to the lab. If Major Dalton found out, she would be really upset. So what? It's her wife and daughter; she has every right to see them if she wants.

They don't go straight home. Sally takes Jenny to the neighborhood park instead. As soon as they're through the fence, Jenny tears away from her mother to the slide. Watching her, Allison wonders if Jenny will someday have superspeed like her father. It's a question she's considered before, but she's never had the courage to do the necessary tests.

Sally sits on a bench with a couple other moms. She digs into her purse for a cell phone. Who's she calling? Someone from her new job? A friend? Or maybe she already has a new boyfriend. Maybe she's had one since before her husband "died."

Allison tries to calm herself down. She finds a seat on another bench where she can inconspicuously watch Jenny play. The good thing about her current appearance is any casual observer will think she's another mom, not a crazy stalker.

She watches Jenny zip down the slide. She squeals with delight as she reaches the bottom. As soon as she touches down, she heads back for the ladder. There are three other kids in front of her. Jenny climbs the ladder a bit at a time as each kid goes down. When it's her turn, she stops at the top. "Mommy, look at me!" she shouts.

Sally continues typing on her phone, seemingly oblivious. Jenny waves furiously at her, so furiously that she stumbles. Allison is on her feet before she knows it. She needs less than half a second to reach the side of the slide. She plants herself there with arms extended. Jenny falls into her waiting arms.

"It's all right," Allison says. "I got you."

Jenny looks Allison in the eye for a moment. Is there a sign of recognition? Then she begins to scream her head off. Allison's body goes numb as she sets Jenny on the ground. The little girl runs to Sally, screaming and sobbing.

It would be easy enough for Allison to run away, but there are people looking at her now. She hurries away at a brisk pace for a normal person. Her face burns with embarrassment. How could she be so stupid? Of course Jenny wouldn't recognize her. To Jenny, Allison was another stranger.

"Hey!" Sally shouts. Allison walks faster. "Hey you!"

Allison can hear Jenny's sobs a moment before she feels a hand touch her shoulder. "Excuse me, ma'am," Sally says.

Allison finally turns around. She looks down at the ground so Sally can't get a good look at her face. For added insurance she shakes her hair forward. "Is something wrong?"

"My daughter says you caught her. Is that true?"

"Yes. She was falling."

"Well, thank you very much. We were lucky you were in the right place at the right time."

"You're welcome."

"Jenny, tell this nice lady thank you."

"No."

"Jenny—"

Jenny barely turns away from her mother's shoulder. "Tank you."

"You're welcome, sweetheart," Allison says. "I should be going now."

"Oh, all right. Thank you again." Sally holds out one hand for Allison to shake. She wants to use that hand to pull Sally into an embrace, but she knows she can't. She's made herself too conspicuous already.

So she shakes the hand and nods slightly before she hurries away. Once she figures she's a safe distance away, she returns to the day care to pick up her costume. Then she sets out for Redoubt City.

***

As expected, Robin doesn't exactly roll out the red carpet for her. Allison has to wait at the gate until Jasper unlocks it for her. The old man greets her at the door. "This is unexpected," he says.

"I just came by to ask for some information for my research."

"Yes, of course. Mistress Robin is downstairs."

He shows her to the bunker beneath the mansion. The bunker is as large as a floor of the mansion itself in order to contain all of Midnight Spectre's vehicles and equipment. There's also a bedroom, a gym, and a fully-stocked kitchen.

Robin is in the gym at the moment, walking on a treadmill at what seems like an extremely slow pace for Velocity Gal. It's weird to see the former Midnight Spectre dressed in a bright pink tracksuit. She stops the treadmill and then grabs a towel to wipe down her face. "What are you doing here?" she asks.

"I needed to get some information for my research. I figured there's no one better to ask than you."

"I'm glad you still remember me," Robin growls. She throws the towel aside and then hops down from the treadmill. Up close it's obvious how young she is, just a kid. Allison has to fight back tears as she thinks of Jenny. "You all right?"

"I'll be fine," Allison says.

"Jasper could fetch you a cup of tea."

"No, thank you."

She follows Robin to the huge computer terminal with its movie theater-sized screen. The chair seems to dwarf Robin as she sits down and begins to punch in commands. "So what are you looking for?"

"I wanted to see what you had on Dr. Roboto. Major Dalton gave me some files, but they're probably not as complete."

"You think there's something in there about what happened to us?"

"It's worth a look."

"Yeah, I guess," Robin mutters. She brings up the same files Dalton had given to Allison. "Nothing in here about any alien devices of the type that bitch used on us."

"Too bad."

"So you must have hit a dead end if you're coming here for this."

Allison pulls over a stool to sit on. She nods to Robin. "I've looked through Dr. Harken's notes. I've run tests on myself. There's nothing in there to indicate what exactly happened to us. It's not like anything we've ever encountered before."

Robin nods. She types in a few more commands. "I've tried searching for this Feminazi too. It's a dead end. It's like she appeared out of thin air. Whoever her and her goons were, they didn't seem to belong to any known neo-Nazi organizations."

"Didn't any of them survive?"

"No. Those my plane didn't kill took themselves out with cyanide capsules. The old standby."

Allison looks down glumly at the floor. She runs a hand through her hair as she tries again to hold back tears. She shouldn't break down in front of Robin, who obviously got it worse than any of them. "What about the weapon? Anything on which alien race might have created it?"

Robin runs her hand over the keyboard. A few images of alien weapons come onto the screen. "Going only from memory, it's not easy. These are the best guesses, but all of those civilizations died out centuries ago."

"Maybe there's a survivor. Like Starla."

"Even if there were at one point, they aren't alive now. Roboto wouldn't have left a loose end like that when he took their technology."

"I suppose."

"I'll do some more digging. After _school_ tomorrow."

"School?"

"It's Jasper and that counselor's brilliant idea. They want me to learn to socialize with other kids or some such shit."

Allison smiles at the girl. "You were never too social the first time."

"Thanks. I'll let you know if I find anything out."

"Sure." Allison shakes Robin's slighter hand. "Thanks. And thanks for letting me borrow that phone of yours on the island. I really appreciated it."

"You're welcome." Before Allison can go, Robin adds, "If you need anything else, let me know."

"I will," Allison says. She knows the offer is as much for Robin's benefit as hers. The girl wants to feel useful. Allison can't blame her for that. It's terrible to feel so useless, so impotent. "Have fun at school tomorrow."

"Yeah, right." Robin waves goodbye and then turns back to her computer.

Allison takes the stairs up to the ground floor of the mansion. Jasper is there waiting for her. "Thank you for that," he says. "I think it buoyed her spirits."

"No problem. Are you really sending her to school?"

"The counselor thinks it's for the best."

"What about you?"

"I hope it will help her see she has more options than resuming her old life." The old man sighs. "She's been like my son—my daughter now, I suppose. I would hate to see her throw her life away foolishly."

Allison nods as she thinks again of Jenny. The last thing Allison wants is for Jenny to inherit her father's ability. The last thing she wants is for Jenny to risk her life day in and day out, to risk losing a family of her own, even if it means saving the world.

"I know what you mean."

### Chapter 16

There's an old adage about crying in your beer, but Starla chooses to cry into her latte instead. She sits in Expresso's, the coffee shop where she used to go before she went to work as a reporter at the _Star_ , and mourns being fired for the first time. She isn't sure how she'll explain to Major Dalton that after all the hard work to get Starla a new identity, she lost her civilian job before lunch.

She tries to tell herself it's their own fault. She has a degree in journalism, yet they gave her a job as a secretary at a place called TyCorp. "There aren't many jobs for print reporters anymore," Dalton had told her when Starla protested.

She could have done the job; it was just her new boss who made it a problem. He happened to be the founder and CEO, the Ty of TyCorp. She came dressed in a red top with a pleated front and a loose pair of blue slacks. She also wore the plastic-framed glasses she had worn as Stan Shaw to conceal her superhero identity.

The moment she showed up to his office, Ty Lecau clucked his tongue at her. "Tomorrow wear a skirt and a blouse that fits better. Get some heels too."

"Yes, sir," she mumbled. Other than her Apex Girl costume, Starla didn't have any skirts; Ms. Cash had told Starla her legs were too muscular for skirts unless she wanted people to think she was a bodybuilder.

Mr. Lecau motioned her to a chair. He barely looked at her as he said, "You know how to take dictation, type, file, and all that?"

"Yes, sir."

"What about coffee? The last girl's coffee tasted like burnt motor oil a dog had shit in."

"I'll do my best, sir."

"Can that sir crap, honey. You can call me Ty. Or Daddy." He looked up as he said the last sentence. The way his eyes studied her was like he had infrared vision of his own. She put a hand to her bosom, but it was already covered up. "Yeah, you'll do just fine."

"Thank you."

For two hours things went well enough. She typed some letters and answered the phones. The last call she answered was from a girl named Monica. It was clear she wasn't too happy with Ty from the way she said, "Don't tell me he's in a meeting. I know that shithead is there."

"Let me put you on hold—"

"Listen, you tramp, you get him on the phone this instant!"

"Yes, ma'am." Starla tapped gently on the door to Ty's office. He waved her inside while he continued to talk to someone.

"You should have seen the tits on that one. Like a couple of water balloons. Hold on a sec, the new girl wants something. What? Oh, yeah, she's pretty decent in a _Xena Warrior Princess_ kind of way." Starla's face warmed as she knew Ty was talking about her. "Yeah, come by this afternoon and check it out."

He finally put down the phone so she could say, "There's a Monica on the other line. She says it's urgent."

He leaned forward in his chair. "Tell Monica she's yesterday's news. If she shows that rat face of hers here again, the guards are going to drop her from the roof. Got it?"

"Yes, Mr. Lecau," she said, unable to bring herself to call him by his first name.

As expected, Monica was not pleased to hear this news. "Then you tell him I'll have my lawyers show up with the paternity results!"

The phone slammed down in Starla's ear. She sighed with relief for the crisis being resolved, at least for the moment. She had never imagined secretarial work could be so stressful. At the _Star_ it seemed the secretaries were always cheerful and polite. But then despite all his faults, Larry Black had always been respectful to his employees.

The breaking point came when Lecau opened the door to his office. He stuck his head out and said, "Hey, sweetcheeks, get in here. I got a letter for you to take."

Her infrared vision kicked on as rage coursed through her. She shook her head to clear it away so she could find a notepad. As she went into the office, she promised tonight she would see Major Dalton to discuss finding her a new civilian job that was less demeaning, garbage removal maybe.

She sat down across from his desk and waited for him to start. He got up from behind the desk and then began to dictate a letter to his lawyers about evicting some tenants from a building he owned. She knew the city well enough to know the building was in a slum; Lecau seemed like just the type to be a slum lord.

As he went on with the letter, he bent down over the back of her chair. He practically whispered into her ear, '"If those rat bastards won't leave when the dozers get there then just run them down. Bunch of fucking illegal immigrants can't be worth more than a hundred grand.' You got that, sweetcheeks?"

"Yes, Mr. Lecau."

He ran a hand along her hair and then whispered, "I got a suite at the Grand. How about we go over there, get a bottle of champagne, and then you let me bury my face in those melons of yours?"

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, darling, it'll be fun." His hand went down from her hair to her right thigh. "Those are some strong legs you got there. I bet you can stay on your knees for hours, can't you?"

Her IR vision cut in again. She wanted to grab his hand and break it into tiny pieces. This anger was unusual for her. Enemies like Rad Geiger, Dr. Roboto, and even Clownface never made her want to hurt someone this badly. "Stop it," she growled.

He pulled the hand back. "Oh, I get it. You must be one of them rug munchers." He buried his face in her hair to whisper, "Trust me, when we get done, I'll have you begging for cock."

The laugh that accompanied this statement finally did it. She elbowed him in the chest hard enough to send him crashing into the wall. Before he could recover, she seized him by the throat and held him in the air. Her eyes burned from the IR vision she couldn't turn off. "How dare you!" she shrieked at him. "I'm not some... _harlot_ from a strip club!"

"Harlot" was the strongest word she could force from her lips. Ma and Pa had taught her to be respectful of all women, no matter how disgusting their sexual proclivities might seem.

"You like the rough stuff, huh?" he asked. She noticed that like Rad Geiger when she apprehended him, Lecau had a bulge between his legs. She triggered a thin trickle of flame, just enough to warm the metal of his zipper.

That was enough to wipe the smug grin from his face. "You are the worst person I've ever met," she said. She threw him through the door of his office to land in front of her desk. She raced forward to seize him by the collar of his shirt. "You're a cruel, heartless, lying... _pervert_!"

The staff from the other offices on the floor emerged to watch as she threw Lecau across the office. He smashed into a wall, where he lay as limp as a rag doll. She stomped across the office, everyone having the sense to stay out of her way. "Apologize!"

"Fuck...you," he said with a groan. "You're...fired."

Though this shouldn't have been a surprise, Starla stood there, dumbfounded. She had never been fired from a job before, ever since her first job delivering newspapers for _The_ _Rockford Tribune_. "What?"

"You're fired!" Lecau managed to get unsteadily to his feet. "Now get lost, you dumb cunt."

The expletive reignited her rage. She took him by the front of the shirt and then stomped over to the nearest window. She punched it open with one hand while with the other she shoved Lecau through the opening. He dangled sixty stories in the air, his limbs flailing around and eyes bulging. "What are you doing?" he screamed.

"I want you to apologize and promise from now on you're going to treat your female employees with respect. Otherwise I'm going to drop you."

"You maniac! You'll end up in jail for this!"

"Maybe, but I think I'll have enough character witnesses to vouch for the way you treat women. I'll start with Monica."

He looked down at where the sidewalk awaited him and then back up at her. "All right! All right, goddamn it! I'm sorry! I promise from now on I'll treat women with respect. Are you happy now?"

She let him dangle for a few seconds before she nodded. She tossed him to the floor, safely inside the building. She didn't need supersenses to smell the odor of urine on him. "Make sure you keep your word," she said. "Next time I won't be so gentle."

On the way down the stairs she had felt good. She imagined it was how Rob had felt all those years as Midnight Spectre, to put the fear of God in someone. She had always been gentler with criminals, believing everyone had a kernel of goodness in their hearts—even people like Rad Geiger. But if Ty Lecau had a kernel of goodness it was very, very small.

It was only when she reached Expresso's that the adrenaline died out and reality set in. She has no job now and unlike Rob she's not a billionaire heiress. There's probably a warrant out for her arrest, which means the identity Major Dalton and the CIA concocted will have to be scrapped.

She's made such a mess of things, all because she couldn't get hold of her temper. The fact Lecau deserved what he got and worse is of no comfort to her. That's Midnight Spectre's way of thinking, not hers. She has always tried to show the best of humanity even though she isn't human. She's tried to be the apex not of physical power so much as moral fortitude. Now she's lost all that and for what? To teach a womanizing jerk a lesson?

"Oh, shit," she hears from the table across from her. She sees the back of another woman and a coffee cup turned on its side as its contents run onto the floor. Starla leans over with a handful of paper napkins; it's a small gesture of atonement for what she's done.

The woman turns and smiles. The napkins drop from Starla's hand as she recognizes Kate King.

***

Once the coffee spill is contained, Kate turns to Starla. "Damn it, this was my favorite top," she says as she dabs at a brown spot by the hem. It's a plain white top Starla saw often enough when she worked with Kate. She never knew it had any special significance.

"You're welcome," Starla mumbles. She starts to get up, but Kate grabs her sleeve.

"Hold on. You're the girl that roughed up Ty Lecau, aren't you?"

"No. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do. I got it right here." Kate holds up her phone. To her horror, Starla watches herself as she holds Lecau by the throat. "That is pretty damned impressive. You must really work out."

"I grew up on a farm," Starla says before she can think better of it.

"Really? I knew a guy who lived on a farm. You look like you could be his sister."

Starla blushes at this. She really should get out of here before Kate can put everything together. Yet she doesn't have the heart to shake Kate's hand away. "Thank you. I really have to go."

"Don't worry about Lecau. Everyone knows what a shit he is." Kate gestures to the seat opposite her. Starla makes sure there isn't coffee on it before she sits down. She looks down at her hands folded in her lap, unsure why she's still here. Kate goes on, "I had to interview that creep once. Five minutes in he calls in his secretary and suggests the three of us go to the Grand to hook up. I'm surprised it took this long for him to get what he had coming."

"The police might see it differently," Starla says.

"You really think Lecau wants this to go to a trial? He's got a lot of skeletons in that closet of his that might come out."

Starla recalls she had pretty much told Lecau that when she dangled him out the window. In a way it's good to know her instincts weren't wrong. "I still shouldn't have done it. He was my boss—"

"Don't give me that. Just because you're a woman doesn't mean every man can treat you like a piece of meat. You think I haven't had to knee a few guys in the crotch in my day?"

"You have?"

"Sometimes more than once. It's the only language most men understand."

"Not all men, though."

"Well, no. There are a few nice ones." Kate's eyes have a faraway look for a moment that Starla imagines is because she's thinking of Stan Shaw, the earnest farmboy who worked beside her for a decade.

Tears come to Starla's eyes. Kate presses one of the leftover napkins to her eyes. "Come on, don't cry. It'll all be fine."

"No it won't!" Starla shouts loud enough that every head in Expresso's turns to her. In a lower voice she says, "I don't have a job now. Who's going to hire me after they see that?"

"I would."

"Thank you, Miss King, but I don't think you can help me."

"You know me?"

"From the newspaper. I used to be a reporter myself, but there aren't many jobs in that now. That's why I had to take that job with Mr. Lecau," Starla says, her mind generating the lie as she speaks.

"Actually, there is a job at the paper."

"Really?" Starla asks, wondering if they've filled Stan Shaw's position yet.

"It's not for a reporter, I'm afraid. We need a copy editor. It's a step down, but—"

"No, I don't care. Anything to pay the bills," Starla says with a laugh. "I mean, anything legal of course."

"Right. Why don't you stop by tomorrow and I'll introduce you to my boss?"

"That would be wonderful," Starla says without hesitation. A chance to work with Kate again; how could she possibly turn that down? Even if it's as a copy editor, she doesn't care. If nothing else, it will be better than working for Ty Lecau.

Kate reaches into her purse and then hands Starla a business card. "When you get to the lobby tomorrow, give me a call. I'll make sure they clear you to go upstairs." After Starla nods, Kate shakes her hand. "It was good meeting you—"

"Starla. Starla Marsh."

"That's an interesting name. Kind of exotic for a farmgirl, isn't it?"

"It's an old family name."

"I'm just teasing. You better get used to it if you're going to work at the _Star_ , Starla."

Starla laughs at the connection between her name and the name of the newspaper. "Thank you so much for this, Ms. King—"

"Kate."

"Kate. Thank you so much. I won't let you down."

Kate nods to her. "I'll see you tomorrow. Right now I have to haul ass over to the dry cleaner. They might still be able to save the old girl."

Kate winks before she leaves. After the door closes, Starla leans back in her chair to sigh. She knows Major Dalton isn't going to be happy about these new developments, but too bad. Let them try to stop her.

### Chapter 17

The old alma mater really hasn't changed, Midnight thinks as she enters the cafeteria. There are girl cliques now, but it's all the same general categories immortalized in all those John Hughes movies in the '80s and countless other movies and TV shows. There are the jocks, the preppies, the nerds, and the bad apples. She could probably hang out with the latter group, the girls who have their hair dyed black like hers and probably smoke in the bathroom or under the bleachers.

She eschews all the groups to sit at a table by herself. Jasper packed a lunch for her, the first time he'd done so in almost twenty years. She shakes her head at going from martini and caviar lunches at Redoubt City's best restaurants to squished peanut butter and jelly and a bruised apple.

While she attempts to stomach the food, she takes out her tablet to connect to the computer in the bunker. The tablet uses an encryption program of her own design, one only the foremost computer hacker in the world can crack. Since she's that foremost hacker, she doesn't worry anyone will intercept her classified data.

She studies her files on Dr. Roboto again. Allison had a good idea about searching for some clue to the weapon in those old files. At the very least it gives Midnight something to do other than focus on the unrelenting horror of being back in high school.

Of course there are a lot of people who would kill for the same chance. For those jocks and beauty queens in the corner of the cafeteria this is the height of their existence. There will still be some glory in college, but it's a bigger pool in Ivy League schools; they won't have the same kind of prominence they have at Swearingen. Twenty years from now, they'll be begging for a ray like Dr. Roboto's to make them young again.

For the nerds, this is their stay in Purgatory or Hell depending on their level of fatalism. The first time Midnight was seventeen she had been a pimple-faced nerd, the kind jocks had liked to stuff into a locker. The third time this happened, Midnight had decided not to be a victim anymore. Having already lost his parents, he wasn't going to let anyone else terrorize him again. He had begun a workout regimen, which in time led him to study from some of the best.

She hears snickers from the table next to her. Some of the bad girls glance her way and snicker again. They won't admit it, but they're pissed she's shunned them. As if because she has neon red streaks in her hair and black lipstick she should instantly want to buddy up to them. They don't realize if she did that, she'd be conforming instead of rebelling. A true rebel doesn't join any social circles.

"Hey kid," one says. Midnight looks over at them. "Nice PB&J. Did your mommy make it for you?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask her the next time you're over there borrowing her perfume?" It's a weak verbal jab, but Midnight hasn't done this schoolyard trash talking for a while and never as a woman.

The other girl gets up from her chair. She's probably got six inches in height on Midnight and twenty pounds, but she won't know how to fight. She's a poser; it's obvious from the designer bag she keeps all her shit in. A year ago she was probably sitting with the girls with straight light brown hair and glasses. Then her parents or a boy broke her heart, she got listening to emo, and transformed herself. At best she'll pull Midnight's hair and give her a few scratches.

Before the fireworks can get underway, another fight draws the attention of the kids in the cafeteria. The bad girl glares at Midnight. "Later, pipsqueak," she says and then leads her cronies out to watch the show.

Midnight follows them after she's finished her sandwich, apple, and milk. When she gets into the hall it's hard to see with all the bodies in front of her. Even standing on her toes she can't see anything until she ducks between a couple of girls.

The scene is straight out of her memories of high school. A scrawny, pimple-faced boy lies on the floor while a jock with a crewcut pounds on him. When the nerd looks up, there's blood staining his nose and his glasses are askew. She sees tears in his eyes before the jock punches him in the face, sending him sprawling again.

Midnight's fists clench. She remembers what it's like to be the one on the floor, the one being victimized. She remembers the pain and the helpless feeling that comes from not being able to save yourself and knowing no one else will save you. That was why she'd become Midnight Spectre in the first place, to save those who faced the suffering she'd endured.

The only problem is deciding what to do about it. The jock has eighteen inches on her and probably a hundred pounds of muscle. She figures him for a tight end on the football team or maybe a linebacker. By contrast she's a skinny munchkin. But that's never stopped her before. As she told Jasper, she didn't beat the bad guys because she was stronger or had better toys; she beat them because she outthought them.

She charges forward to grab the jock's arm before he can punch again. "Leave him alone! He's had enough already."

As expected the jock swats her aside like she's a mosquito. "Get lost, shrimp," he growls.

"There's no need to keep this up. You've won," she says.

He cocks his arm to punch the nerd again. Midnight jumps in the way to take the punch—or appear to take the punch. Among the masters she studied under was a Hollywood stuntman; he'd taught her how to take a punch. The secret was to roll with the momentum and let your body go limp while at the same time exaggerating the impact.

She drops to the ground like she's been shot. She lies there wailing in pain. The nerd touches her shoulder. She looks up at him and winks. Then she rolls over just as the jock is about to grab her so he can continue the fight.

Given her size and weight disadvantage the only option is to fight dirty. She punches him as hard as she can between the legs. He drops to his knees, his eyes practically rolling back in his head. Midnight kicks him in the stomach for emphasis.

Then she grabs the nerd's hand and runs.

***

They seek refuge in the ladies room on the third floor. Midnight presses a wet paper towel to the nerd's face to get some of the blood off. When she pulls it back, she studies his nose. "Doesn't look broken," she says. She'd broken her nose five times as Midnight Spectre; Jasper had started to joke she should get a nose job.

"I'll be all right," he says. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

He smiles at her, revealing braces but no chipped or broken teeth. "That was so awesome. You were like Huntress or Batgirl."

"What about Midnight Spectre?"

He snorts but then winces with pain. "You wish. Midnight Spectre would have done something way cooler. He would have ducked under Barf's punch, worked the body with a few punches, and then thrown Barf over his shoulder." The nerd pantomimes these moves for Midnight. She has to admit she probably would have done something along those lines when she was a man; she'd done it often enough to guys built like the bully.

"Barf?" she asks.

"His real name's Bart. People call him Barf."

"Not to his face, I bet."

The nerd's cheeks warm. "Not usually."

"So he overheard you say it and decided to beat the snot out of you?"

"Pretty much."

She smiles; it's good to see the kid isn't afraid to admit his weakness. Most guys would have bragged they could have handled it if given more time. "So what's your name?"

"Melvin Amis."

"Seriously?"

"Yes." He straightens to try to summon some dignity. "After my grandfather. He was an oil baron out in California."

"I bet he didn't go by Melvin. They'd shoot you in the Old West for that."

"Oh yeah? What's your name? I don't remember seeing you around here before."

"It's my first day. My name's Robin." When his eyes widen, she says, "Yes, it's spelled just like the Boy Wonder."

"There was a girl Robin too. Stephanie—"

"Let's just drop it." Midnight goes to the door and peers out. "The coast is clear. You should probably skedaddle. My advice for the future is to keep your mouth shut and start working out. Start with some cardio to build endurance and then move on to light weights."

"Funny, you don't look like a jock."

"I'm not. My...cousin is. He plays football for USC but he looked a lot like you when he was in high school."

Melvin scoffs. "Did he take some supersoldier drug like Captain America?"

"Steroids are for amateurs and they do more harm than good. You ever want to be a real superhero like Midnight Spectre, stay off the junk and work at it."

"Yes, ma'am," he says and tosses her a jaunty salute. She waits for him to leave, but he doesn't. He shifts from one foot to the other. "Thanks for your help."

"You're welcome."

"Maybe after school I could walk you home?"

"I have a ride."

"Oh." He grimaces like he got punched in the face again. It's probably the first time he tried to make a move on a girl and she shot him down. Now he'll probably end up as light in the loafers as Ellis Pate.

"How about you come with me? I've got a killer gym. I can help get you started."

"That would be awesome!" To her surprise, he kisses her on the cheek. His face turns red at the same moment hers turns volcanic warm. He bolts from the bathroom.

Midnight shakes her head. She doesn't know why she invited him over. It will at least give Jasper quite a shock to see she's made a friend already.

### Chapter 18

Allison sits in a bar in Paris still dressed in her costume. The only other customer is an old man asleep at the bar. He's probably been here all night since the bars in Paris just opened while those back in Focal City were announcing last call. The bartender's left a bottle of red wine next to the old man but made no attempt to wake him.

Back in high school Allison took three years of French. She puts it to use now to order a bottle of absinthe, some of the strongest liquor on the planet. The bartender stares at her for a moment. In English, he says, "Are you sure, mademoiselle? It is very strong."

"That's what I'm counting on."

Her body is not impervious to drink. It just takes an awful lot of it to have much effect on her system. The bartender actually gasps when she downs a shot of absinthe in one go. He takes a step back as if he expects her to explode. The absinthe tastes like what she imagines battery acid must taste like. Still, she lets out a satisfied belch. "Not bad."

By the time she's drained a quarter of the bottle, she feels lightheaded. No other customers have shown up yet. The old man finally stirs. He immediately reaches for the bottle at his elbow. He pulls the cork out with his teeth before he starts to drain it from the bottle. His half-open eyes take her in. In French he says, "You are the Speed Girl?"

"Velocity Gal," she corrects in English since she doesn't know how to say 'velocity' in French.

He repeats it with his thick French accent. "Why are you here?"

She shrugs. "Why are you?"

"I am getting drunk."

"So am I."

He lifts the bottle to her. She clinks her shot glass to it and then takes another belt. The bartender stares at her with amazement. "You don't have to worry," she says. "My metabolism doesn't work the same way yours does. It breaks down the alcohol much faster. I won't even get a hangover."

"Perhaps you should not be drinking then," he suggests.

"I can't remember the last time I got good and drunk. Now seemed like the right time for it."

"Man trouble?" the old man asks in French.

"Oui," she says and then giggles. In English she says, "The trouble is I used to be a man."

"You had the sex change?" the bartender asks.

"Not by choice." She sighs. Major Dalton will probably have kittens if she finds out Allison is spilling secrets in a bar. But who are these people going to tell? The old man probably can't understand her and she doubts the bartender is the sort who will run to the press. "It was done to me and now I can't change it back."

"They have surgery for that, do they not?"

She shakes her head. "It probably wouldn't work on me. All those hormones they inject into you would break down before they could do much. I'd end up a woman with a fake penis."

The bartender only nods. He shifts uncomfortably and then starts to wipe down the bar. She can't blame him. This isn't a topic really suited for polite conversation with strangers. Allison gulps down another shot. Then she pats her skintight suit. "I'm sorry, I don't have any money on me. I left it back in my purse. Give me five minutes to get it?"

"It is no problem. I think I can trust Velocity Gal."

She giggles again. "Thanks. I'll be right back. Don't let anyone take my seat."

She bolts from the bar. Her first steps are a little wobbly, but by the time she's out of Paris she's fine. Running like this will only accelerate the process of breaking down the alcohol in her system. When she reaches Focal City, she's clearheaded again. She grabs her purse from inside the lab. She can't take it with her, so she just stuffs a few bills into her boot, where they should be safe.

The bartender hasn't made much progress on the counter when she gets back. The old man has fallen back to sleep. The way he sucks at the end of the bottle reminds Allison of when Jenny was a baby. Tears sting her eyes at the memory.

She takes the money from her boot and slaps it down on the counter. "Just keep them coming," she says.

***

It's eight o'clock in Paris when she wakes up. She had fallen asleep like the old man three hours earlier. There's a puddle of drool on the counter. A napkin sticks to her cheek when she lifts her head.

There are more people in the bar now, blue-collar workers for the most part it appears. They talk loudly to themselves in French, a few glancing over at her. She's sure they make lewd remarks at her expense. At least no one tried to violate her while she slept.

The bartender leans down in front of her. "You are awake now," he says. "Hangover?"

"Nope. I feel right as rain."

He shakes his head. "That much absinthe would kill a normal woman—or a man."

"I told you I'm not normal."

The room goes silent. On the television screen in the corner is the image of a building with masked figures on top of it. They fly Palestinian flags and signs written in Arabic. From what she can decipher of the headline on the screen, terrorists have overtaken a government building. "They have hostages?" she asks the bartender.

"Yes. Two dozen if they are to be believed."

"Where is it?"

The bartender gives her the address. She nods to him. "Thanks. I'm on my way."

"Good luck, mademoiselle."

She nods to him again and then she's off.

***

It takes her an entire minute to get to the government building. She got lost three times on the way over. She finally located the place by the number of flashing lights out front. She comes to a stop in front of a crowd of officers. A couple of the jumpier ones pull their weapons on her. She puts up her hands. "I'm on your side," she says in French.

A man in a suit and tie, who has to be a lieutenant or captain or even the commissioner, says in English, "We do not need any help."

"Those people inside might feel differently."

"Everything is under control. We will soon have them." He says something to his officers in French that makes them laugh uproariously. She isn't sure exactly what it is, but she gathers he's suggesting the best way she can help is to open her legs for them.

She gives him a superspeed slap that doubles him over. "You pigs!" she shouts in French. In English she says, "There are lives at stake here. It's not the time or place for this bullshit."

"Get this girl out of here!" the man in charge says.

Allison grabs him by the front of the shirt. She holds him up like she's taking him hostage. "Listen, asshole, all you need to do is tell me how to get inside. I'll handle the rest. Otherwise I'm going to use you as a human shield. Got it?"

"Oui, mademoiselle." He motions for the other cops to back off. Then he tells her where to find the loading dock at the rear of the building.

"I'll be back in a couple minutes," she says.

She hopes the police don't try to shoot her now that she's let their commander go. It would be a waste of ammunition and do nothing except to alert the bad guys to her presence. In a hostage situation, stealth and speed are essential to making sure no one gets hurt.

The loading dock is locked. Allison holds out one hand and vibrates her molecules enough to use it like a jackhammer. The lock finally shatters. She catches it before it can fall.

She races through the building to get its layout and survey the situation. There are a half-dozen gunmen in the building and the two-dozen hostages as the bartender had said. Only two of the gunmen are actually watching the hostages while three more watch the front entrances. The sixth is on the phone upstairs, giving demands to the police.

It's a simple enough matter for her then. She takes out the two with the hostages first. She zips by to tear their guns away and then makes a second pass to punch them out. She races up the stairs to do the same to the three watching the entrances.

She goes upstairs to snatch the phone away from the last terrorist. Before he can raise his pistol, she has it in her hand. She points it at him while she tells the police, "The situation is resolved. The hostages will be out soon."

Before the officer can reply, she hangs up the phone. At this point she wishes she could bend the gun into a pretzel like Starla; all she can do is shake its molecules apart so that it scatters on the floor. She grabs the man by the front of the shirt. "What did you really think this would accomplish?"

"You fascist American whore—"

She superspeed punches him in the stomach. She works his midsection until he coughs up blood. Some of the alcohol must still be in her system as the man's face changes in her mind to that of the Feminazi. "You took everything from me!" she shrieks. "You son of a bitch! You took my family away!"

She throws him across the room. She's already there to wait for him when he lands. Then she starts to kick him in the side. She does this until she hears a gun cock. The chauvinist cop from outside says, "Enough. He's finished."

Only then does Allison remember she was fighting an Arab terrorist, not the Feminazi. "I'm sorry," she says, tears in her eyes. "I thought you were someone else."

***

The fire escape goes up to Jenny's room. Allison sits on the fire escape with another bottle of absinthe. Through a crack in the curtains, she can see Jenny on her side, an arm pressing her favorite teddy bear to her chest while she sucks on her thumb.

It's not fair. She shouldn't have to be a stranger to her own daughter. She hadn't done anything wrong; she had tried to save the world. She had saved the world on multiple occasions. How many lives had she saved in that time? She hadn't ever kept track, but it must be thousands, if not hundreds of thousands by now.

And what's her reward? Some crackpot uses an alien device to turn her into a woman and now her own wife and child don't recognize her. She takes a long pull from the bottle of absinthe and then wipes the back of her mouth with one glove.

This is bullshit. She's five feet away from her daughter and can't let her know she's here. She watches as Jenny's legs start to kick. She flings the teddy bear away. Since her eyes are still closed, it must be a nightmare.

Allison's fists clench. She can save two-dozen French people from terrorists but she can't save her own daughter from a nightmare. The hell with this, she thinks. It's easy enough for her to open the lock and then slip inside. In half a second she's at the side of Jenny's bed. She strokes the little girl's hair and whispers, "It's all right. Daddy is here. Daddy will keep you safe."

To her relief, Jenny's body relaxes. She sticks her thumb back in her mouth. Her other hand reaches for her teddy. Allison fetches it for her before she can wake up. Jenny presses the bear to her chest, a smile coming to her face. Allison rearranges the covers, brushes Jenny's hair from her face, and then kisses her forehead.

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

The light comes on. Allison races across the room in a microsecond. She's on the fire escape when she hears Sally shout, "Who the hell is in here?"

"Mommy?" Jenny says. She sits up in bed, her teddy bear still pressed to her chest. She looks around the room. "Where's Daddy?"

"I told you, Daddy had to go away for a while."

"Nuh-uh. Daddy was just here. I heard him."

Sally sits down on the bed next to Jenny. She puts her arm over the girl's shoulder. "It was just a dream, sweetie. Daddy is far, far away."

Allison crouches at the edge of the fire escape, trying to hold in her sobs. By now she could be halfway across the country, but she can't will herself to move as she hears Sally try to explain to Jenny that her father is dead. "He's up in Heaven with all the angels."

"Like in church?"

"Yes, like in church."

"Why did Daddy go there?"

"He didn't have a choice. A nasty person blew up the place where he worked."

"Why?"

"Because some people aren't nice."

"Daddy was nice."

"Yes, Daddy was very nice."

To calm her nerves, Allison drinks the last of the absinthe. As she finishes, the bottle slips from her hand. She tries to catch it, but the combination of the alcohol and the tears in her eyes slow her enough that the edge of the bottle glances off her fingertips. The bottle shatters on the fire escape.

Allison should get up to run. Instead, she curls into a ball and sobs. She hears Sally tell Jenny to run into the bathroom and lock the door. "Why?" Jenny asks.

"Because I said so. Go!"

Allison hears the fire escape creak and then a hand press down on her shoulder. "It's all right," Sally says. "Are you hurt?"

"No," Allison mumbles into her chest. "I'm sorry about the bottle."

"What are you doing up here?"

"Drinking," Allison says. She gestures to the broken bottle.

"They have bars for that."

"That's where I got it from."

"Look, young lady, I respect the work you do, but my daughter is trying to sleep."

"I'm sorry. I wanted to see her again."

"Excuse me? How do you know my daughter?"

"From the park. She was going to fall off a slide—"

"You shouldn't be here. If you don't leave, I'm going to call the police."

Allison's never laid a hand on Sally before in anger. Now she grabs the front of Sally's nightgown and shoves her back against the wall. "Goddamn it, she's my daughter! I just wanted to see her." Allison lets go of Sally to press her face into Sally's shoulder.

She feels Sally pat her back gently. "It's all right. We'll get you some help—"

Allison looks up and then pulls off her mask. "Sally, it's me. It's Alan. Your husband."

"What? That's impossible—"

"Look into my eyes, goddamn it! Please?"

Sally's eyes narrow but then widen as the realization hits. "Oh my God. Alan? What happened to you?"

Allison stumbles through the open window to drop onto Jenny's bed. She picks up Jenny's teddy bear to hold to her chest as she lies, "It was the explosion. I was in the lab when everything around me exploded. When I woke up, I was like this. I was a woman. And I was _fast_."

Sally ducks through the window but presses herself against the wall to stare at her husband. "That can't be true. They told me—"

"They lied. The government covered it all up. They wanted to protect my secret identity and all that stuff."

"And you're really a woman now? All the way?"

Allison nods. She grins slightly. "I have all the same parts you do."

"My God. I...what are we supposed to do now? What am I supposed to tell Jenny?"

"I don't know."

"Jesus, Alan. You just show up here in the middle of the night, drinking and scaring me half to death and you expect me to find a way to explain it to Jenny?"

"I wasn't thinking clearly. I'm sorry." Allison begins to sob again. She uses the teddy bear as a makeshift handkerchief. "I've missed you two so much."

Sally finally sits on the bed next to her and puts an arm around her shoulders. "I've missed you too. So has Jenny."

"But you don't want me back, do you? Not like this."

"Alan—"

"It's Allison now."

"That's a pretty name."

"Thanks."

"Allison, I need some time to get everything straight, all right? It's a lot to take in."

"Can't I stay tonight? I'll be gone in the morning. Jenny won't even see me."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Please? I don't want to be alone tonight."

Sally sighs and then pats Allison's shoulder. "Fine. You go back to the bedroom and wait until I put Jenny to bed again. Don't let her see you."

"I won't."

She drops the teddy bear and then gets to her feet. In less than a second she's safely in the bedroom. There's no way Jenny could have seen her. Allison crouches down in the closet amongst some of her old clothes in case Jenny comes in.

She should probably run clear out of the apartment. That's what Sally probably wants. But Allison wasn't lying about not wanting to be alone. She's spent over a month alone already, crying into her pillow most every night. She's tired of running away; it's time to get it all out into the open.

"Al—Allison?" Sally calls out softly.

Allison emerges from the closet. She stands in the middle of the room, not sure what to do now. Sally goes over to the dresser and takes something pink out. She tosses it to Allison, who unfolds it to see it's a nightgown. "I think you'll be more comfortable in that."

"I suppose."

She trudges into the bathroom; it would be too much of a step for her to get naked in front of Sally right now. The nightgown is a size too big on her, but she doesn't mind. She recognizes it as the bulky flannel one Sally wears when her Aunt Flo comes to visit. Maybe it was the first one Sally grabbed or maybe she chose it because it's the least revealing.

She steps out of the bathroom ten seconds later. "How do I look?"

"It's fine," Sally says.

They climb into the bed, but don't touch. They haven't been this awkward since their first night together back in college. That had been at Sally's house, her parents in the next bedroom. The memory of this prompts her cheeks to warm. She tries to snuggle up against Sally, who backs away.

"Can't you just hold me? Please? We don't have to do anything."

"All right." Sally leans in until they touch. She runs a hand through Allison's hair and smiles. "You're pretty cute as a girl."

"You really think so? I'm not too dowdy?"

Sally laughs at this. "You really are a woman now." She leans over to kiss Allison's cheek. Allison falls asleep in Sally's arms for the first time in months. But in the morning Sally shakes her awake. "You'd better go. Jenny will be up soon."

"Oh, right. Thanks for letting me stay over. Do you think we could do it again?"

"Let me think about it, all right?"

Allison forces herself to smile though her heart is breaking. She had hoped when Sally kissed her on the cheek that things would be different now, but they aren't. As if reading her mind, Sally says, "I really enjoyed last night. It's been so hard not having you here. It's just...I don't know how to explain this to Jenny. Until I can get that figured out, I don't want to get _attached_. Do you understand?"

"Sure. Maybe we can talk about it later? I could meet you for lunch. We could have a picnic—"

"Allison, please, slow down. There's a diner at 21st and Hayes. We can meet there."

"Oh, sure. I'll see you there."

When Allison gets back to the lab two minutes later, she stares at her computer screen blankly. Things could have gone better, but they could have gone much worse too. At least now she has a chance to get her family back. That's better than nothing.

### Chapter 19

Copy editing is a tedious job. Starla takes off her glasses and then pinches the bridge of her nose. Kate is a very good reporter, but her spelling is atrocious. There are a dozen errors just in the first paragraph. She supposes some of this is because Kate is always in such a hurry.

The other reporters are even worse. Starla wonders if the previous copy editor had grumbled about how terrible Stan Shaw's spelling was. She had tried to get it right, but there were always mistakes you couldn't see; thus the necessity of a copy editor even in the days of computers with spell check.

If there's one good thing about the job, it's that her closet-sized office has a door. This comes in handy when her super hearing picks up the sound of a fire alarm. She locks the office door and then strips off her normal clothes to reveal her uniform. She dives out the window seconds later.

Her enhanced nose picks up the smoke from twenty blocks away. She follows it to the source, the building Ty Lecau had wanted bulldozed. That plan had been held up in the courts; apparently Lecau had decided not to wait for the courts to do their job.

She swoops down on the building. There aren't any fire trucks on the scene yet. It wouldn't surprise her if Lecau paid them off to get "caught in traffic" or have a "mechanical breakdown" on the way to the scene.

The blaze has already devoured half the building by the time she gets there. She listens with her enhanced hearing for anyone trapped. Her infrared vision won't be much good in a fire, nor will her flame breath. "Anyone in here?" she calls out.

There's no answer until she gets to the fifth floor. Then she hears a little girl cry out. Starla crashes through a closet door to find three girls, the oldest maybe eight years old. She bends down to look them in the eye. "It's all right. I'm going to get you out of here. Just grab on."

The girls latch onto her. Starla hugs them tight and then stands up. She drops through a window, careful to control her rate of descent so the girls won't fall. She leaves them on the sidewalk to head back into the building.

By the time she finishes, there's about fifty of them on the sidewalk. The first girls Starla rescued immediately swarm the last woman she drops off. She feels someone take her hand. An old man grins at her. "Thank you so much, miss. Me and my family woulda burned up if you hadn't shown up."

"You're welcome, sir."

Starla darts back into the building. The ceilings are starting to cave in now. She ignores the heat and flames to drop all the way to the basement. Even with the stench of burning garbage, she can smell the gasoline used to start the blaze. Someone on Lecau's payroll.

Starla spins around fast enough to create a vortex that sucks in the flames. She flies slowly up through the building to pull the rest of the flames into her. Once she burrows through the roof, into the air, she stops spinning. The flames spew in all directions for a second before they dissipate.

The crowd cheers as she lands. A fire truck has finally pulled up to the building. Her infrared vision kicks in as she stomps up to the firemen. "You're a little late," she says. "It's already put out. It started in the basement. Arson."

"Why don't you just stand back and let us have a look, doll," one fireman says.

She pushes him back against his truck. "What took you so long? Those people almost died."

"Don't tell me how to do my job, toots—"

She grabs him by the front of his jacket. "Who paid you off? Was it Lecau?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Starla shakes her head to clear the infrared vision away. She puts one index finger to the man's throat. With just a little push she could collapse his windpipe. It's tempting, but she reminds herself to stay in control, not to lose it like she did with Ty Lecau. "You tell your boss that if he pulls a stunt like this again, I'm going to pay him a visit. Got it?"

"Sure thing," he gets out through clenched teeth.

"Now go clean that mess up."

The building's residents—former residents—cheer her again as she flies away. She's back in her office a couple of minutes later. She checks the time; she's only been gone for twenty minutes.

She's just got her glasses back on when there's a tap on the door. Starla unlocks it in time for Kate to burst in. "Hey, you ready for lunch?"

"Sure."

***

Starla picks at her salad while inside she seethes about the incident at the building. It's not just that Ty Lecau paid someone to burn down his own building and then made sure the firefighters wouldn't respond in time. More annoying is the way the firefighter talked to her. It was pretty much the same way Lecau had spoken to her, as if she were a child or some kind of servant—

Her bowl cracks as she stabs the fork right through it. Kate looks up from her phone and frowns. "Bad day?"

"Just clumsy," Starla says, forcing a smile to her face.

"What's the matter? Did someone use a comma instead of a semicolon?"

"Now that you mention it—"

They laugh, but Starla is still uneasy. She looks down at her shattered bowl. "Do you ever get tired of being a woman? You ever think maybe things would be easier if you were a man?"

"What's wrong, kid? Has someone been giving you a hard time?"

"No, everyone at the _Star_ has been wonderful. I guess I'm still thinking about Ty Lecau. There are so many men out there like him, men who think we don't matter because we're women."

"There are a lot of dirtbags out there, that's for sure." Kate sips her Diet Coke and then smiles. "But I think a sex change is a little extreme."

"I suppose so. I'm just saying, if you could do it instantly, just push a button and do it, would you?"

"God, no."

"But wouldn't it be easier? Wouldn't people take you more seriously then?"

"Trust me, I've never been interested in doing it the easy way. And the people who would take me more seriously if I had a penis are the type not worth impressing." An electric charge runs through Starla as Kate takes her hand. "Starla, you are a smart, beautiful woman. Don't ever let these shitheads make you think differently."

"You think I'm beautiful?"

"Of course you are. If I were a man, I'd be all over you."

"Really?"

"Hell yes." She squeezes Starla's hand. "There's no shame in being beautiful, especially when you have the brain to go with it. I should know."

Starla's face turns warm. She and Kate never talked like this before. When she'd been Stan Shaw, they had kidded around, but it had always been like an older sister-little brother relationship. She'd never felt comfortable enough to talk about her feelings or insecurities before.

"Thanks. I feel better now."

"Hey, how about after work I take you out shopping? Buy you the most impractical shoes we can find. That'll make you feel better."

"That sounds fun."

Kate checks her watch. "I'll see you at five. I've got a couple of leads to follow up on this apartment fire."

"Oh, sure," Starla says. Her face turns warm again when Kate gives her a kiss on each cheek like the Europeans do. Then with a little wave, she's gone.

***

Starla is still in the office at six o'clock. She hasn't seen Kate since lunch. It's not unusual for Kate to get wrapped up in a story, but she should have at least called by now to say she was running late.

Starla finds Billy at the desk he occupies when working on an assignment for the paper. He looks up and smiles at her. "Something I can do for you, Miss Marsh?"

"I'm just wondering if you've seen Kate? She promised to meet me at five and she hasn't called."

"I haven't seen her around. You think she's in trouble?"

The thought hadn't consciously occurred to her until that moment. "It's possible. She said she was following up some leads on that apartment fire."

"Gosh, you think we should look for her?"

"Why don't you ask around to see if she's talked to anyone here recently? I'll go check by her apartment in case she forgot."

"Sure thing, Miss Marsh."

Billy jumps up to do her bidding. He's always been enthusiastic, but now she wonders if there's something more to it. The thought of her and Billy together makes her cringe. He's a nice guy, but they've been such good friends over the years that it would be really weird to be anything more than that.

She forces these thoughts from her mind. She heads up to the roof to change out of her clothes again. As Apex Girl she flies off the roof to head for Kate's apartment.

With her infrared vision she scans the apartment. There's no one inside. She lands on the balcony and wrenches the door open. From the look of the place, Kate hasn't been around all day. She pushes the button on the answering machine. There's a message from her mother and a couple telemarketers. No death threats or anything like that.

With her fists clenched, Starla jumps off the balcony. She hurtles across the city to TyCorp. From prior experience she knows where his office is. According to her IR vision, there's only one person inside. She hopes it's him and not a cleaning person or whoever he coerced into being his new secretary.

She smashes through the window. With one hand she snatches him from the chair and then presses him to the ceiling. "Where is she?"

"Who?"

"Kate King."

"Who?"

"Reporter for the _Star_. She was checking into that little pyrotechnic display you put on earlier."

"I don't know what you're—"

"Don't lie to me!" She slams him through the ceiling, into an air duct. When she pulls him back, he's covered in dust and insulation. "What did you do, send some of your hired thugs after her?"

"You've got the wrong guy—"

"I said don't lie to me!" This time she hurls him to the floor. He screams as he tries to get up. He's probably got a broken leg now. She lands in front of him. "This is your last chance, Lecau. What did you have done with her?"

"She's in a warehouse. Down by the docks. That's all I know."

Starla glares at him and says, "I'd suggest you not be here when I get back."

"Yes, ma'am," he says with a whimper.

Starla takes off through the broken window for the docks. She isn't sure how she'll find Kate among so many warehouses. She'll have to rely on her senses. Or tear the buildings apart one-by-one until she finds something.

This thought gives her pause in mid-flight. She needs to calm down. She can't help Kate this way. She has to relax and be rational, not emotional. It's hard when she has all these new hormones and new feelings welling up.

She takes a deep breath and then eases down over the docks. She flies low enough that her super hearing should be able to pick up anyone talking—or firing a weapon. Her IR vision picks up a few signatures, but from their voices they're ordinary workers.

After what seems like an eternity she comes to a warehouse populated by three signatures. Two are standing while the third is sitting. From the way the third one is sitting, it must be someone tied to a chair. Kate!

She hears a man's voice say, "You shouldn't have stuck your nose in where it didn't belong."

"I bet your boyfriend here says that a lot, doesn't he?"

There's a sharp crack, like someone being slapped. Starla's eyes narrow. She's not going to bother with subtlety now. She crashes through the roof of the warehouse at top speed. Two men scatter as she comes to a stop in front of Kate King.

"Are you all right?"

"Just fine," Kate says.

"Don't worry about these two. I'll handle them."

She charges towards one of the men. He fires a pistol at her, but the bullets ping harmlessly off her. She snatches the gun away, her hand crumpling it into junk. She throws him to land at Kate's feet. Kate manages to give him a kick, but he's already out.

The second is trying to get out through a side door. Starla grabs a wooden crate from off a pile. She throws it like a bowling ball to send the man sprawling. With a solid punch, he's down for the count; he probably won't wake up for a few hours.

She tosses the other man aside before she unties Kate. A part of her wants Kate to jump up and hug her and then give her a kiss. The other part is just glad to see her friend safe. "What happened?" Starla asks.

"I went to this businessman's office. His name's Ty Lecau. He burned down one of his own slum buildings since they wouldn't let him raze it legally. These two jumped me outside the building when I left."

"They didn't do anything to you, did they?"

"They wish." Instead of a hug, Kate extends one hand. "Thanks for the rescue. Do you have a few minutes for an interview?"

"Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Don't worry about it," Kate says. Starla winces at this. Is Kate's friendship with Starla really that unimportant? She supposes to Kate a night of shoe shopping with her friend is far less important than an exclusive interview with Apex Girl.

"What do you want to know?"

As Kate begins to ask her questions, Starla thinks of how awkward it will be to have to proofread this story in the morning.

### Chapter 20

Elise has spent a lot of time in Pacifica, but this is the first time she's ever really been on the streets before. It's not so different from most of the old cities in Europe. She supposes Venice would be pretty close except the entire city is underwater.

She glides along in her peasant's outfit. She's tied her hair back with a piece of seaweed—what passes for a scunci among the poor girls in Pacifica. Without any makeup on, she looks common enough that no one gives her a hard time.

From what she can tell, everything is going fine down here. Mother and the ruling council have managed to keep all the chariots running on time, so to speak. The people she passes all seem perfectly content, or at least no more harried than usual.

She wanders into the bazaar to browse its wares. Unlike the last time she went, the crowds don't instinctively get out of her way, but then she doesn't have an honor guard now either. She slips through a group of children and their frantic mother.

Seeing the children brings to mind the scare she had last week. She'd woke up in her apartment and immediately run to the toilet. After she threw up, she sat against the toilet for a few minutes, her mind spinning. Morning sickness was a sign of pregnancy. So was a late period, but having had only one period in her life, she had no idea if it were late or not.

To be on the safe side, she went down the street to a pharmacy. She felt like a kid buying liquor as she went up to the front counter, nervously looking right and left in case anyone was looking at her. She set the pregnancy test on the counter as discreetly as possible. When it didn't ring up on the first try, she had to grab onto the edge of the counter not to flee in panic. She waited for the chubby girl at the counter to get on a microphone to ask for a price check on a pregnancy test. To her relief, the chubby girl punched in the barcode numbers manually and a total came up.

Back in the safety of her bathroom, Elise waited anxiously for the results. It came back negative. She breathed a sigh of relief. She had dodged a bullet, at least for now.

With that in mind, she contacted Major Dalton to ask about birth control pills. "Are you sure they'll work on me?" she asked the major. Pacifican and human DNA were mostly similar, but there were those slight differences that allowed Pacificans to breathe underwater and so forth.

"Only one way to find out."

"Thanks a lot."

"Well you know what they say: abstinence is one hundred percent effective."

"Catholics maybe. And stodgy old Republicans."

"I'm just saying, if you're that worried, maybe you should stop having sex."

"Just give me the pills," Elise growled. A courier had shown up the next day with a bottle of pills and a prescription. Elise had been taking them every day since then, but she still didn't know if she could count on them. To be on the safe side, she had gone back to the pharmacy for some condoms.

Children had obviously not been something she had considered while with Paul. They would have needed to adopt a child and the paperwork on that would have been a real chore, what with her being the king of Pacifica and her and Paul a gay couple to boot. Now that she can make a kid of her own, the matter has become far more serious.

As she inspects some cute dresses at one stall, she watches the kids glide by. The way they jostle and argue is definitely a reason for her to wait. She doesn't want to end up prematurely getting wrinkles like their mother from all that stress. At the same time, it would be nice to have a royal heir, a grandchild for Mother to dote on.

First she supposes she needs to find the other half of the two needed to create a baby. At the moment she doesn't even have a steady boyfriend. She's been having too much fun with her new life to settle down.

She slips the old woman at the stall a few clamshells for one of the dresses. In a restroom stall she changes into the dress. It fits better than that peasant gown and the glittering of the turquoise scales is much prettier. She rolls up the peasant gown and then stuffs it into the waterproof satchel she uses for a purse.

When she glides back into the bazaar, crowds part for her like royalty. At least males in the crowds do. The females are probably just jealous they can't make the dress look this good. She giggles at this thought as she swims away.

For lunch she nibbles on a salad made of kelp and scallops. Food on the surface is definitely much better than down here. For one thing everything isn't so soggy. She picks the scallops out to float away. While she nibbles on the kelp, she hears screams.

Killer Whale is locked in the dungeon yet, so who could be attacking? She gets the answer when she sees a great white shark bearing down on the crowd. It's the biggest shark she's seen in a long time, probably twenty feet long at least. The teeth on it look like they can shred concrete.

Elise shoots away from the table, out into the bazaar. She swims over the crowd and the shark. Its thoughts are easy enough to read. The animal is hungry. So hungry it's decided to make lunch out of the Pacificans in the bazaar.

A boy at the rear of the throng falls down. A man stops and races back to help him up. The boy swims away, but the man is slower. Too slow to avoid being eaten by the shark.

Elise swoops down and focuses her thoughts on the shark. Telling it not to be hungry would be a waste of time; sharks are _always_ hungry. Instead she focuses its thoughts on her. She makes herself seem like a manatee to the shark: big, slow, and relatively defenseless. Given the choice between a man and a manatee, the shark will go for the latter.

The shark lunges up at her. Elise darts away from it, paddling towards the surface. She doesn't want to get all the way to the surface, just far enough from Pacifica that no one can see her. She's a strong swimmer, but the great white starts to close the gap. There's nothing else to do then but summon Lord Neptune's trident. It appears in her hands seconds later.

She whirls around to lance the trident's prongs into the shark's head. The thing doesn't stop at first. She has to pull out the trident and stab it two more times before it finally dies. Its jaws are only an inch from her right leg. The razor sharp teeth would have torn off the leg in a few more seconds.

"Thank Poseidon," she mumbles. Then she swims back towards Pacifica.

***

She plans to get back to her disgusting lunch, but the man she saved latches on to her. "You saved my life," he says. "I can't ever repay you."

"You don't need to repay me. I was glad to help." She studies the man. He has the rippling muscles of an Abercrombie & Fitch model with the luxurious beard of a Viking. Yet his eyes are such a soft turquoise, revealing a hidden intelligence. "You were pretty brave too. Was that your son?"

"No, my nephew." He sticks out a hand. "I'm Erek."

"I'm Elise."

"That's a pretty name. For a pretty girl." He kisses her hand despite that he doesn't know she's royalty.

"Thank you," she says, blushing at the compliment. "I was going to get some lunch. Maybe you could join me?"

"That sounds wonderful."

While they eat lunch, she finds out Erek is a coral shaper. The coral shapers turn natural formations of coral into houses or other structures. Erek doesn't just build houses, though; he also uses the coral to make sculptures. "That's amazing," she says. "Could I see them?"

"Certainly. My workshop isn't far away."

She should probably be concerned about going to the workshop of a man she met a half-hour ago. She's certain what Major Dalton would say on the subject. But she's not planning to sleep with him—not yet. And if he tries anything, she's always got the trident at hand.

The workshop isn't much to look at. It's about the size of Elise's apartment on the surface with half of it dedicated to drawings and storage of Erek's tools. The other half is what takes her breath away. The sculptures are the best she's ever seen done in coral. There are men, women, whales, fish, and even a shark—ironic given what had just happened to Erek.

"These are beautiful," she says as she runs her hand along the sculpture of a man. "How many have you sold so far?"

"None. I haven't the heart to show them to anyone—except you."

She gulps at this. "That's so sweet. Why me?"

"I don't know." His eyes flick right and left. "I suppose I wanted to impress you."

"Well, mission accomplished," she says. Then she swims over to kiss him on the cheek.

***

Elise prides herself on not sleeping with Erek for two weeks. They spend a lot of time together, but none of it in bed. She sits in his workshop to watch him carve the coral with his specialized tools.

He even lets her try. She takes the knife in her hand and gently digs at a chunk of coral. He shakes his head. "No, no. You have to be firm with it." He chops at the coral with the knife. Then he hands it back to her. She pretends the knife is the trident and the coral the shark she killed when they met.

"Much better," Erek says. He pats her on the back. "You're a natural."

That's the first time they kiss on the mouth. They kiss quite a few more times after that, but it never goes farther than that. Maybe it's the pregnancy scare or maybe she just doesn't want to rush things with Erek. For all his manliness, he does have a sensitive artist's heart that could be easily broken.

On their two week anniversary, she takes his hand and says, "Erek, there's a special place I'd like to show you. Have you ever been on the surface?"

"When I was a boy, but only for a few minutes."

"How would you like to see it again?"

"With you? I'd be honored."

She guides him to her private atoll, the place she and Allison had referred to as the Love Shack back in the day. She hovers near the surface for a moment, her hands in Erek's. "This is going to be a little uncomfortable at first. You have to give your lungs some time to adjust. Try to keep your mouth open to help the air go in."

As promised, it is uncomfortable for Erek at first. He writhes around on the shore, panting and gasping as he struggles to breathe. She keeps a hand on his back to encourage him. She worries when his skin starts to turn blue around the edges. Is he going to die? Maybe he can't make the transition—

Then he takes a deep, wheezing breath. This is followed by another and another until his skin starts to change back to its normal color. "You did it!" she says. She gives him a kiss on the cheek as a reward.

She helps him inside the house, to the bedroom. "This place is magnificent," he says. "Almost as magnificent as you."

She knows this is a line, but she doesn't care. She still blushes like a schoolgirl and says, "Thanks. You're pretty magnificent too. I can't wait to show you some of the sculptures they make here on the surface. They use all sorts of things here: stone, wood, and even garbage. I'm sure you'll love it."

"Not as much as I love you."

Her body goes numb as he kisses her. "You love me?"

"Of course. Elise, you are the most wonderful woman I've ever met. You're so kind and sweet and beautiful too."

"Thank you."

"Don't you love me?"

"I—" She thinks of their last two weeks together. It's been nothing like she's ever experienced before, not even with Paul. Maybe it's because they've taken it slow. Maybe they have a deeper connection. She's never really thought about the idea of a soul mate before, but Erek could definitely qualify.

"I love you too," she says. Then they make love for the first time. It's so tender and gentle, not at all like her flings since she became a woman. Those were just sex, but this is truly making love. It's as deeply spiritual as she's always heard poets and singers say, as if she and Erek are one and the same for those few minutes.

When it's over, she collapses into his strong arms. She rests her head on his beard, to use it as a pillow. She wants to stay in this, the happiest moment of her life, forever.

Of course that's the moment when her phone rings. From the ringtone she knows it's Major Dalton calling. "I'll be back in a minute," she tells Erek. She kisses him gently on the lips before she slips away into the living room.

Dalton's face comes onto the screen. "We've got trouble."

### Chapter 21

Allison sits in the back row of chairs at the day care center and kneads her purse in her hands. Today is the open house for the day care, when all the parents and guardians can watch the children play and do the various activities the caretakers come up with. At the moment Jenny is wiping finger paint over a piece of paper along with a half-dozen other children. While she paints, Jenny narrates to Sally, who sits next to her.

It took a small amount of arm-twisting to get the day care to allow Allison inside. Sally had to explain that since Jenny's father had died, her "sister" had moved in to help pick up the slack. That was what Allison had become to her wife in the last two weeks, a sister. To Jenny she was Aunt Ally now.

When she was alone, Allison cried about the unfairness of this situation, but she had to admit it was better than the alternative. At least this way she could be around Jenny and Sally. Being an outsider was better than not existing to them at all.

She would like to go over to where Jenny sits, but there's no room and Sally as the "real" parent has priority. All Allison can do is watch and wait for her turn. She continues to knead her purse and listen to Jenny go on about her picture. "There's Daddy," Jenny says. "He's up in the sky like an angel."

"That's very nice," Sally says. She looks over her shoulder at Allison, who wipes tears away. Sally pats Jenny on the shoulder. "Why don't you go show Aunt Ally your picture?"

"Do I have to?"

"Yes." Sally takes Jenny by the hand to lead her across the room. On the paper Allison sees a purple blob that's meant to be a house and two blobs that are supposed to be Sally and Jenny. In the sky is a yellow blob meant to be Jenny's father. Allison notes while there's a tiny black splotch to represent the dog Jenny wants, there's nothing for her aunt.

Jenny holds out the picture at arm's length. "Oh my, it's so pretty," Allison says. "When we get home, Mommy will have to put it on the refrigerator."

Jenny doesn't say anything to this. She squeezes closer to her mother. So far relations between Allison and Jenny have remained frosty. Out of desperation Allison called the counselor Major Dalton had assigned to them. The counselor said only that Allison has to be patient; in time Jenny will accept her as part of the family.

Whether Sally will allow that much time is another matter. While Jenny goes off to play tag with some other kids, Sally sits down next to Allison. "I don't think this is working," she says.

"She needs more time. She'll get used to it."

"I'm not just talking about her."

"Oh." Since their night of cuddling, Sally hasn't allowed Allison to even look at the bedroom. Allison always has to sneak out after Jenny goes to bed.

"Look, Allison, I do still care about you, but you have to admit it's pretty awkward."

"I know, but what do you want me to do? Forget about you two? You're all I have."

"Have you given any thought to dating? I'm sure you could find yourself a nice man—or woman."

"I don't want anyone else. I love you. I love Jenny. I want us to be a family again."

"Then find a way to change yourself back. There has to be some way to do it."

"I don't know. I don't even know how it happened in the first place."

Sally shakes her head. "I don't know what else to tell you."

"Don't you feel anything for me yet? Physically?"

"No!" she says loud enough that a few parents look their way. In a lower voice, she says, "Look, I did a little _experimenting_ back in high school, but it was never really my thing."

"Couldn't you try? For me?"

Sally rolls her eyes. "Even if we did that, what would we tell Jenny? That Aunt Ally is her new mommy? She's confused enough already."

"You're the one who started this whole aunt thing."

"What else did you want me to do? I'm supposed to tell her that Daddy is a lady now?"

"It would be better than all this lying."

"For you maybe. I don't think it's better for Jenny."

"Why do you get to decide everything? I'm her goddamned father!"

Heads turn to them again. One of the caretakers comes over, a middle-aged woman with a plastic smile. "Perhaps you two should continue this discussion outside," she says.

"I think we were done here anyway," Allison growls.

"Allison—"

Before Sally can stop her, Allison is halfway around the world.

***

Allison sits in the Paris bar again. This time she wears the remains of her normal clothes and carries the charred lump that used to be her purse. At least the money in her pocketbook is still intact, as is her ID. "Mademoiselle, you've come back," the bartender says.

"I did," she says. She looks over at the old man at the counter, the same one as before. He sucks at the end of his bottle of wine while he sleeps. Allison gestures to her shredded clothes. "I must look like a mess."

"Oui, but you are still the most beautiful person in here."

"That's not saying much."

The bartender checks a clock over the bar. "It is almost closing time. Perhaps we could continue this discussion elsewhere?"

"Like at your place?"

"If you would like. It is small but very comfortable."

She imagines a place about the size of her lab with an ancient brass bed and maybe a battered dresser for the only furniture. The kitchen would consist of a hot plate while the bathroom would be a communal one down the hall. Not the kind of place she wants for her first time with a man.

"Maybe we could get a hotel? I have plenty of money."

"Yes, of course, mademoiselle. There is an excellent one just down the road. I will show you."

"That would be very kind of you."

He gives her a bottle of absinthe to work on while he closes up for the night. This entails waking the old man from his stupor. They argue in French for a few minutes, both gesturing to her now and again. From what she can ascertain, the old man is annoyed the bartender is taking Allison home. He wants her for himself. "What would you do with a woman?" the bartender says. His next insult suggests the bottle on the counter is the closest to a woman the old man has had in fifty years. The old man makes a lewd gesture and then staggers off into the night.

"I am sorry, mademoiselle, for such unpleasantness," the bartender says.

"It's all right. It was kind of cute actually the way you two fought over me. I've never felt so wanted before." She means it as a joke, but starts to cry. There is a kernel of truth to what she'd said. Her own family has rejected her and she hasn't seen any of her friends in weeks.

"Now, mademoiselle, don't cry. We will go now and things will get better. You will see."

"I hope so."

There are still people on the streets of Paris at this time of night, out to observe the night life in the City of Lights. None of them seem to pay Allison any mind. Her tattered clothes aren't much worse than some of the things that pass for clothes among other people. They probably think she did it on purpose as a fashion statement.

The hotel the bartender takes her to would probably get two stars out of four in a guidebook. It's the kind of place that caters to tourists who don't want to spend a lot of money. At this time of night, she imagines it also caters to some less savory clientele as well.

A fat man in a grimy T-shirt mans the desk. He talks with the bartender, who writes his name as Raul Hebert. She chides herself for going to a motel with a man whose name she didn't even know. If Sally finds out—

Sally is the one who told Allison she should find someone else. So that's what she's doing. And if you're going to look for love, why not in Paris? And why not with an attractive young man like Raul? She could do a lot worse, that's for sure.

The man at the counter hands over a key. Raul leads Allison up the stairs to the third floor. She's tempted to pick him up and run them both there, but then they would both need new clothes.

The inside of the room isn't much better than how she imagined Raul's apartment to be. There's a queen-sized bed, a dresser, an old-style pitcher of water and basin, and a television that probably dates from before Allison was born as a man. "Not the most romantic setting," she says.

"I am sorry, mademoiselle—"

"My name is Allison," she says. "Dr. Allison Sable."

"That is a beautiful name. I am Raul Hebert," he says.

She giggles and says, "I know. I saw the register." But she does like the way he says his last name as "A-Bear" instead of "He-Bert" like they'd probably say in America.

With a sigh, she kicks off her scorched shoes and then sits down on the bed. From her purse she takes out the bottle of absinthe. Raul fetches two glasses from the dresser and then sits down next to her. "A toast?" he says.

"Here's mud in your eye," Allison says. She chugs down her glass of liquor while Raul only sips at his. That's probably a good idea since he doesn't have a metabolism like hers. "So what should we do now?"

"What would you like to do?"

"That's a good question." She rolls on her back to stare at the water spotted ceiling. "I haven't really thought that far ahead."

He puts a hand on her stomach and in a breathy voice says, "Then do what feels natural to you, mademoiselle."

She doesn't want to admit that what feels natural to her at the moment is to run back home and beg Sally's forgiveness. Allison never experimented with guys. She never even thought about it. When she'd seen Ellis kiss other men, she had always turned away, embarrassed.

But she's a woman now and women are supposed to like men. If she just gives it a try, maybe she'll discover she likes it. Maybe nature will override all her psychological foibles and allow her to like it. There's only one way to find out.

She sets her glass of absinthe aside and then begins to work on taking off her clothes. It's pretty easy with her clothes being so shredded and full of holes. She discards the remains on the floor slowly, hoping to entice Raul.

When she's fully naked, she asks, "See anything you like?"

"Very much." He leans down to kiss her and run a hand through her hair. "You are a very beautiful woman."

"I'm sure you've had better. I mean, I'm just a frumpy girl from Oregon."

"The beauty is not all on the surface."

"I see. I have inner beauty." She smiles at him. "That's a line you give ugly girls."

"I am sorry, mademoiselle. I did not mean to offend."

"It's all right. For what it's worth, I think you're very handsome."

She leans up enough to kiss him on the mouth. She hopes she'll feel some spark, some surge of emotion to ignite an animal passion, but there's nothing. She might as well be kissing her grandmother. That image prompts her to shiver.

"Are you cold?"

"Just a little. Maybe we should get under the covers."

"A good idea."

Once he pulls up the covers, she turns off the lights. As he starts to kiss her body, she says, "There's something you should know. I've never been with a man before."

"Never? That is impossible."

"I was saving myself," she lies.

"Then I am glad you chose me."

"What should I do now?" she asks.

"Lie here and look as beautiful as you do now. I will take care of everything."

"Oh, all right." She closes her eyes as he enters her. It hurts more than she imagined. Is that what it felt like for Sally her first time? Was it like that for Cherie, Alan's girlfriend in high school, the first girl he ever made love to?

Raul bangs away on her for a few minutes. Other than an occasional gasp, Allison doesn't make any sound. He finally asks, "Are you all right, mademoiselle?"

"I'm fine. Just keep going." She tells herself that once he finishes, everything will be different. She'll be able to move on from Sally and Jenny, maybe start a new family. She could do it here in Paris, maybe even with Raul, if he's willing; if she's not another notch on his belt.

He's still working on her when she hears the phone in her purse ring. From the ominous ringtone, she knows it's Major Dalton calling. It could be something routine, but she doubts it. "I really need to get that," she says.

"But mademoiselle, we are so close."

"I'm sorry, but the fate of the world could be at stake." She leans over as much as she can to grab the edge of the bag. She rummages around until she finds the phone.

Dalton's face is deadly serious as she says, "I need you at base on the double. We've got a problem."

"I'll be right there." Allison turns off the phone and then kisses Raul. "I'm sorry about this. I'll make it up to you, I swear."

"It is all right, mademoiselle. I understand. You must put others in front of yourself."

"I suppose that's true," she says. She smiles at him. "I really do want you to be my first. I promise when this is all over, I'll come back and we can pick up where we left off."

"I will be waiting." He kisses her hand and then she's off.

### Chapter 22

Starla waits in front of the club dressed in a short white dress with matching heels Kate encouraged her to buy three days earlier. They're supposed to go to the club tonight so Starla can show off the outfit and her recently permed hair to the male population of Atomic City. It's not a proposition Starla is looking forward to.

The only problem is Kate hasn't shown up yet. Starla checks her watch again. Kate is already an hour late. Starla looks down at her feet glumly. She remembers back in college when she'd waited three hours in a restaurant for Jackie Kearney to show up, but she never did. Starla had finally tired of eating free breadsticks and left.

She's being stood up...again. The worst part is knowing it's her own fault. Apex Girl had taken down a drug smuggling ring three hours ago. Kate is no doubt at the office, working feverishly on the story that Starla will have to edit before the morning edition.

She takes her phone out of her tiny purse. The least Kate could do is give her a call to say she has to work late on a story. That would only be polite, instead of leaving Starla here on her own, to feel like the kid no one wants to pick in dodgeball.

Someone jostles Starla's elbow. She looks over to see a woman even taller and bulkier than her. "Those are some great falsies," the woman says. "Where'd you get them?"

"Excuse me?"

The woman gestures to Starla's chest. "They look so natural."

Only then does Starla notice the "woman" wears a wig and has an Adam's apple. Her face turns warm as she says, "I'm sorry, I have to go."

The bouncer looks her up and down. With a nod he lifts up the velvet rope so she can go inside. She pushes her way up to the bar and sits at a stool. The bartender is a girl who looks like a slightly older version of Robin Holloway, possibly not old enough to serve drinks. "What can I get you?" the girl asks.

Starla looks around at the bar to see what the other patrons are having. A woman next to her has something green in a martini glass. "I'll have one of those."

"One appletini coming up."

While she waits for the drink, Starla wishes invisibility were one of her powers. She's never felt like such a loser in her entire life. Why does Kate keep blowing her off like this? They always seem to have a good time when they are together. Shouldn't that make her enough of a priority to at least warrant a call?

The bartender sets her drink down in front of her. Starla sips at it; she would need about a gasoline tanker full of it to erase all her bad feelings and memories. This is stupid. There has to be something for Apex Girl to do. If not in the city then in the rest of the world. There's always someone who needs to be saved.

But who's going to save her? The thought has bubbled up in her mind from time-to-time, usually after a nasty scrape with a supervillain. To most people she might seem invulnerable, but she's not. What happened with the Feminazi proved that. The ease with which Apex Man had been subdued had been mind-boggling. If not for Midnight Spectre, who knew what would have happened to them?

"Something wrong, honey?" the bartender asks.

"I'm fine," Starla mumbles. She pulls out some money from her purse for the drink she barely touched.

She's about to leave when she hears someone call out, "Miss Marsh?"

She turns to see Billy making his way through the crowd on the dance floor. "Billy?" she asks. This is about the last place she would expect to see a naïve kid like him. Then again, it's the last place she would expect to find herself either. "What are you doing here?"

"Bachelor party for my future brother-in-law," he says. "What about you? Are you and Miss King hitting the town?"

"Actually I'm solo tonight."

"Oh. Well, you could always join me and my friends. We got plenty of room."

"I wouldn't want to intrude." What she means is that she doesn't want to be the only woman at a table with a bunch of drunk guys.

"I understand," he says, but there's a sadness in his eyes and his lip trembles like she just ran over his puppy.

"Fine, just one drink won't hurt."

He takes her hand to lead her across the dance floor. The other four guys at Billy's table are as nerdy and out of place as he is. She can't imagine what possessed them to think this was a good idea.

"Guys, this is my friend Starla from work," Billy says. She shyly nods to them. He pushes out a chair for her to sit on, between him and the man of the hour she assumes from the paper crown on his head. "This is my future brother-in-law Carter. And that's Dave, Mike, and Gary."

"It's nice to meet you," she says. They stare at her like she's an alien, which is technically true, but they don't know it. She turns to Carter. "Who's the lucky girl?"

He has a picture on his phone of a chubby girl with brown hair and glasses. "That's Liz. My one and only."

"She's very pretty," Starla says.

Billy flags down a waitress and orders a round of beers. Starla shifts uncomfortably in her seat. This is as awful as she imagined, only in a different way. The men aren't slobbering all over her; they just stare at her, terrified. She desperately wants to leave, but doesn't want to hurt Billy's feelings.

"Starla's a copy editor at the paper," Billy says as the waitress shows up with their beers.

"You spell check the whole paper?"

"A lot of it. It's not too difficult now with computers and word processors and everything."

"She's just being modest. It's an awful lot of work."

"Not as much as taking all those pictures, I'm sure," she says, trying to deflect the attention.

"It's a lot less expensive that's for sure," he says and laughs too hard. "I'm going to be taking pictures at the wedding tomorrow. You want to come? I haven't used my plus one yet."

"It's a little sudden," she says.

"Don't worry about it. It's not going to be too fancy. It's outside, on the bluffs upstate."

"I'll probably have some work to do."

"Oh, sure," he says and gives her the hangdog expression again. "Most everyone from the paper is going to be there, even Mr. Black."

She wonders if Kate will be there. Not if there's a big story for her to chase. The scoop is always the most important thing to her. More important than her friends even. She wipes at her eyes again.

"I'm sorry, Miss Marsh. I didn't mean—"

"It's not your fault. I was just thinking of something else. Excuse me."

She gets up and then pushes her way through the dance floor traffic. She hurries into the nearest alley that's empty except for a sleeping vagrant. It's awkward to change into her costume while crouched behind a dumpster, but she manages it without waking the bum even.

Then she takes off.

***

The door to the Crystal Lair is still locked. There's no physical key to get inside; she has to put one palm against a sheet of ice. She's not sure if the scanner will be able to identify her fingerprints and DNA now. She figures those didn't really change because of the Feminazi's weapon, but she isn't positive.

Finally the door to the Lair slides open. "Welcome Gor-Bul," a mechanical voice says in Starla's native language. A robot shuffles forward to meet her. "Do you require anything, sir?"

"I'm fine," she says.

The robot buzzes. "Error. Voice print not identified."

Her fingerprints and DNA might be the same, but of course her voice is different now. She'll need to take some time to reprogram the service drones so they can understand her. The drone eventually pulls away to go about its maintenance of the Lair.

She wanders down a corridor of ice to the main room. Kate had called it the throne room when Apex Man had brought her here years ago. There's a chair made of orange crystal in the center of the room, but it isn't a throne. It's a computer.

When Starla sits down, the living crystals process her DNA like the reader outside. From one armrest comes a burst of light to display a holographic menu in the air. Since vocal commands are out, Starla has to touch the button to access the archives.

These archives contain all the knowledge of her birth planet, the world she never got to see with her own eyes. Scientists on Earth would give anything to get a look at some of the high-tech marvels her people created. Kate asked her why she didn't share all this knowledge and Starla had explained the world wasn't ready for most of it. "How can you be sure?"

"Because my people weren't ready for some of it," Apex Man had said. "The weapons in this database eradicated my home. I don't want the same to happen here."

"We're already doing a good job of that on our own," Kate said, always the cynic.

Starla sighs at the thought of Kate. She scrolls through the archives until she finds what she wants. A hologram of her birth father appears a few feet away. The family resemblance is obvious from his height and musculature. His black hair is streaked with gray, especially in his beard.

He keeps his hands buried in the folds of his robe as he says, "My son, human pair-bonding is an intensely difficult process. It is not like on our world, where matches were determined based on physical and psychological compatibility. The humans rely on instinct, which often creates couples that are unsuitable."

"How do you know if you'll be unsuitable?" she asks. Her father shows no reaction. Starla keys in the question manually.

The hologram ponders this question as the computer searches for an answer. Finally he says, "Without the sort of tests we run on our planet, it is a process of trial-and-error. I am afraid it often requires many errors to find a good match."

"I want to run those tests," Starla tells the computer. "Tell me who my soul mate will be."

"As you wish, my son, but it will still be difficult to find the other half of the tandem—"

"Just do it!" she shouts. It's apparently close enough to her male voice that the computer responds. Restraints appear on the armrests and front feet of the chair to hold Starla in place. Then the chair begins to glow. The hologram of her father watches placidly while Starla cries out from the searing pain in her mind.

"Do not worry, my son. The pain you are experiencing is to be expected while the probe scans the deepest recesses of your mind."

After minutes that seem like an eternity, the pain finally subsides. Starla sags forward in the chair. She has to grab the armrests when the restraints disappear so she won't fall onto the floor. While she pants and wipes her face with the back of one hand, her father steps closer to her. There's an expression of pain on his face.

"There is one your thoughts fixate on. The one you call Kate King. I am afraid she will never be compatible with you. Her selfish pursuit of what you call 'the scoop' will always take precedence over her feelings for you. It is a part of her nature you cannot change and which will lead any union to ruin."

"No, that's not true," Starla whispers, though she's seen the signs of this herself. She types into the computer, "What if I bring her here and run the test on her?"

"A human could not survive the testing. Her mind would be destroyed by the probe. If you truly care for her, my son, you cannot bring her here."

Starla sags in the chair. At times like this, she wishes her father were real, not a hologram, so he could hug her. Did her people hug? She isn't sure on that, though she doubts it. Her people valued knowledge and reason above feelings like love. Yet they had destroyed themselves. So maybe there's something to be said for humans.

Her legs are wobbly as she stands up. She shouldn't have come here. She should have gone to her real home, to Ma and Pa on the farm. She still hasn't told them what happened. They think their adopted son is dead. She can only imagine the pain they endured when the military chaplain showed up to deliver the news.

If Starla were still a man, she knows what her adopted parents would say. They would tell her to follow her heart. The only problem is Starla doesn't know what her heart wants anymore. She thought she and Kate could be together at least as friends, but they don't seem to have much of a bond. As her biological father's hologram said, Kate's pursuit of the scoop would always keep Starla in second place.

"Is there anything else you require, my son?" the hologram asks. When she doesn't say anything, it shuts down. That's certainly one disadvantage of having a hologram for a parent.

As she continues to ponder what to do about Kate, the hologram returns. Starla hopes the computer has come up with some kind of answer to her problems, but the hologram of her father says, "There is an incoming message from Major Dalton."

The hologram changes to the major's face. She looks worried, almost scared. "Starla, I need you at base. We've got a problem."

"I'll be right there."

### Chapter 23

Midnight checks the time on the treadmill's display: 15:49. And she doesn't feel ready to pass out yet; she's not even winded. That's a definite improvement from when she started. When she squints into the mirrored wall of the gym, she can even make out calf muscles now.

Beside her, Melvin's face is red and sweat drips into his eyes. His progress has been a lot slower, but she appreciates the fact he continues to make the effort. She just wishes sometimes he could make the effort somewhere else.

Since she saved him from Barf the bully, Melvin has stuck to her like a conjoined twin. He even changed his schedule of classes so they could have all the same ones. The only time she's able to get him to leave is when the limo shows up to take him home for the night. Tonight she won't even have that luxury since he convinced his mom to let him stay the night.

Midnight would have to be an idiot not to see what's happening: Melvin is in love. With _her_. It's happened before when she was a man and some damsel in distress would fall head-over-heels for her rescuer. He let himself return those feelings once, but after Christy Connor was butchered and left in the meat freezer of an Italian restaurant, he refused to let it happen again.

Which means she should tell Melvin to get lost, but she hasn't. He's just so sad and pathetic that it'd be like drowning a litter of kittens. In less than a year he'll have to go off to college anyway and she'll go back to the Holloway Corporation board to manage her company. She hopes he doesn't work up the nerve to try anything until then.

When the time gets to twenty minutes she turns the treadmill off, more for Melvin's sake than hers. She claps him on the back and says, "Good job. You didn't even throw up this time."

"Thanks," he says. She had never imagined anyone could get motion sickness from a treadmill, but that's how pathetic Melvin is. "The Dramamine patch seems to be working."

She reaches into the minifridge to take out two bottles of water. She tosses one to Melvin, who of course fumbles it; he has the reflexes of a ninety-year-old woman with arthritis. After he manages to pick up the water, they go into the drawing room to sprawl on the couches with their tablets.

While Melvin reads comics on his, Midnight does real superhero work. The last two weeks she hasn't made much progress on her investigation into Dr. Roboto. Her own records being of little use, she decided to hack into the Pentagon to see if they have anything helpful. It's unlikely they have anything she doesn't, but it's worth a shot.

What she really wants to do is go to Guantanamo Bay's secure wing and smack Roboto around until she gets something useful. That's what she would have done back when she was a man. She can't do that now for a number of reasons. A girl who weighs a hundred two pounds dripping wet and stands five feet tall in her shoes isn't going to intimidate anyone. And Major Dalton wouldn't let her onto the island in the first place, let alone into a cell with a hardened murderer.

She only needs a minute to get into the Pentagon's mainframes. Melvin starts to talk to her about something involving Spider-Man and Doctor Octopus; she nods and grunts at the appropriate times to make it seem like she's listening. With a few buttons she lines up the Pentagon's records to those of her computers. There's only one file she doesn't have: a list of visitors to Roboto's cell in Gitmo.

The file is marked as restricted to only the very upper echelon of the US government. It's technically treason for her, a civilian, to read the file. That's only more incentive for her to see what's so interesting. She can't imagine why a list of visitors would be classified that top secret.

It starts to make sense once she cracks into the file. There's only one name listed: Major Carrie Dalton. "Holy shit," Midnight mumbles as she looks through the file. The visits after what happened with the Feminazi aren't a surprise. What does shock her is to see the many, many visits the major made up to nine months _before_ what happened on Roboto's island.

"What's wrong?" Melvin asks. He tries to peek at the screen, but she presses it against her chest. His lower lip trembles; he looks about to cry as he asks, "Are you chatting with someone on there?"

"No. I need you to go. Right now."

"What did I do? Whatever it is—"

"Go ask Jasper to give you a ride home. I have to go." As she gets up, she forces herself to smile and say, "It's female problems, you know?"

Melvin makes a face to show he understands what it means. That should keep him out of her hair for a little while—hopefully three to five days. She jogs upstairs and slams the bathroom door. Then she creeps down to the master bedroom.

Midnight ducks into the old fireplace, which hasn't had a real fire lit in it in thirty years. This is a lot easier now that she's so much shorter than before. A retinal scanner IDs her and then opens the fake backing of the fireplace to let her into the escape tube that goes down to the bunker. There are stairs and an elevator to the bunker, but she's never been one to take chances.

It's hard to resist letting out a childish "whee" as she coasts down the tube. When she sees her feet approaching the light, she tucks her body as much as she can. She lands hard on the floor of the bunker, at Jasper's feet. He pauses his dusting to look down at her in her soot-stained tracksuit with a face to match.

"Are you and Mr. Amis playing hide-and-go-seek? I must say this isn't a sporting way to win."

"I needed to get away from him so I could use the computer," she says as he helps her up. "Give him a ride home, would you? I have work to do."

"No disrespect, Mistress Robin, but Mr. Amis has had his heart set on this sleepover for some time."

"I don't care!" she shrieks and stamps her foot. "This is much more important than his feelings." Seeing the hardness setting in on Jasper's face, she softens her voice. "Please, take him home. This is really important."

"Very well," he says. "I'll make sure to convey your regrets."

"You do that," she growls and then sits down at the computer to find out what Major Dalton has been up to with Dr. Roboto.

***

There's no such thing as privacy in the secure area Guantanamo Bay; every cell is monitored with cameras and microphones to make sure the captured supervillains don't get up to no good. At least that's how it should work. Strangely Dr. Roboto's conversations with Major Dalton are not recorded. No video or audio, just blacked out like the Nixon tapes.

Any good hacker knows how difficult it is to really delete something. On the surface it might seem like the file is erased, but traces of it remain beneath the surface. The only way to make sure it's gone forever is to destroy the server it exists on. Apparently Major Dalton doesn't have the authority to make that happen, or she didn't expect anyone to follow her trail of bread crumbs. It's sloppy on her part.

Whoever did erase the files was able to get rid of a lot of the data, but the computer in the bunker is able to pull bits and pieces of it. While Midnight waits for the computer to reconstruct it, she gets up to do some stretches. She's going to need her muscles—such as they are—soon enough. Not that she expects to do any actual fighting. She just needs to get the information to Starla or Allison and let them do the rest. She doesn't even need to leave the bunker, except she doesn't want to risk discovery by sending a message over the radio. Her computer has the best encryption in the world, but she can't be certain about Starla or Allison's end.

As she does a lunge, she hears a clatter from upstairs. Midnight straightens and then hurries over to the locker in which she keeps her old costume and other goodies. She grabs a Taser and a brass knuckle.

Dalton couldn't have found out about her snooping already, could she? Midnight thought she'd been careful, but perhaps it had been a trap to lure her in. Well, if Dalton or any of her grunts want a fight, Midnight will give it to them.

She starts for the stairs only to realize a fight won't be necessary. It's not Dalton or any of her soldiers. It's not one of her supervillain foes either.

It's Melvin.

He lies on the floor at her feet for a moment before he starts to stir. He sits up with a groan and then arranges his glasses on his face. His eyes bug out when he sees the Taser leveled at his chest. "Whoa!" he shouts. "This is it, isn't it? Midnight Spectre's lair!"

"How the hell did you get in here?" she asks. "Did Jasper let you down here?"

"No. I saw him come out from behind a bookcase like in an old movie. After he was gone, I figured out how to trip the mechanism." His face reddens as he adds, "I tripped on the stairs when I was coming down."

"No shit."

"What are you doing down here? Do you know Midnight Spectre?"

"Not really. He's my uncle. I found this place after he left."

"Wow. It's so cool, just like the Batcave."

"It's not a fucking _cave_ ," she snarls. "It's two feet of steel-reinforced concrete buried deep enough that it can survive anything—including a nuke."

"Really?"

"That's what the notes in the computer say. Now, are you going to get lost and promise not to tell anyone or do I have to light you up with this Taser?"

"Why do I have to leave?"

"Because I'm busy."

"On what?"

"I don't have time to explain it to a goddamned amateur. Just go back up the stairs and try not to break your damned neck. Jasper's going to take you home."

"I'm not going anywhere," he says. He pushes himself up to his feet. "You'll have to shoot me—"

He doesn't finish the sentence before she pulls the trigger.

***

She had hoped the Taser would keep Melvin out for a few hours, long enough for her to do what needs done, but she hears him groan an hour later, as she pulls on her boots. He tries to sit up, but she pushes him back down. "Don't try to move yet. Just relax and breathe. I'll have Jasper come get you."

"Wait," he whispers. "Why?"

"I don't have time for this right now. There's some very bad stuff going on and I have to put a stop to it." He tries to get up, but she pushes him back down. "It's going to be all right. You just lie here and rest. I'll see you Monday."

She pats his cheek and then walks away, to the hangar. The Mark 3 jet was destroyed to stop the Feminazi, but she still has the Mark 1 at the very back. Though it's been in mothballs for eight years, it should still be flight-worthy, so long as Jasper's kept up the maintenance on it.

It's a struggle to carry a fuel hose over to the aircraft. She really needs to start lifting weights now that she's built up some endurance. The hose feels like it weighs a ton and the panel on the jet she needs five minutes with a crowbar to get loose. She has to pull back her hood to wipe the sweat from her face as the fuel begins to flow.

While she waits for the jet to fuel up, she runs through the checklist. According to the logs, Jasper last maintained the jet six months ago. From his notes, the engine could use an overhaul. She hopes it has enough left in it to get her to Atomic City and Focal City.

As she's about to climb down to remove the fuel hose, she hears a click. She turns to find her own Taser pointed at her. Melvin holds the weapon in a trembling hand. "I'm coming with you," he says.

She scoffs at this. "You think so?" Her hand isn't as fast as it used to be, but it's fast enough to swat the Taser from his hand. She leaps out of the cockpit, doing a flip in midair that's steadied when her cape stiffens into its glide mode. She had to actually cut the cape down from one of her old ones; she's relieved to see it works well enough on her shorter frame.

Before Melvin can react, she pulls him down from the ladder. That's a mistake, as he's too heavy for her. They land in a heap on the floor. She's quick to push him aside and slide the brass knuckle around her fingers. The knuckle is much too big, but that won't matter so long as she maintains her hold on it when she swings.

"Unless you want your face rearranged, I'd suggest you go upstairs."

"No. I'm not going to let you go by yourself. I want to help."

"You don't even know what I'm doing."

"I know it has to do with a Major Dalton and Dr. Roboto," he says.

"How the hell do you know that?" She shakes her head. "You hacked my computer?"

"Not all of it. I only got through the lower encryption levels."

"Shit."

"So either you let me come along or I'll go tell the police where they can find Midnight Spectre. He's still on their Most Wanted list."

"Or I could just kill you."

"You wouldn't do that. Midnight Spectre never killed his enemies."

"Well, I'm not him, am I? So maybe _I_ kill my enemies."

"No you won't."

Her fingers twitch in the brass knuckle. All she needs to do is knock him out. But the way he stands here, unflinching, gives her pause. He's so much like how she used to be the first time she was seventeen, just a kid with more guts than brains when it came to danger.

"Goddamn it," she mutters and lowers her fist. "Fine, you can come along. It should be a milk run anyway. Just make sure you don't barf on me."

"I won't," he promises.

She finds a couple of extra barf bags for him to use, along with a helmet that is a couple sizes too big. The visor of the helmet droops down to his mouth. "This is a really bad idea," she says.

"I don't care. I've spent most of my life reading about superheroes. Now I'm going to be one."

"More like a sidekick. _My_ sidekick."

"Fine, but I need a cool superhero name. I was thinking the Outcast. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Keep dreaming," she says. Then she lowers the cockpit and they take off.

### Chapter 24

Starla shivers involuntarily at the sight of the base as the memories of being cooped up in the secret facility come back to her. In some ways though she supposes the place wasn't that bad; at least she had fewer things to worry about there. She needed only to adjust to her new body, not a new _life_.

Major Dalton waits for her on the pier. The major grins. "Well, don't you look pretty?"

Though she knows it's vain, she pats her hair and says, "You like it?"

"It's nice. Makes you look a little more feminine."

"Thanks. Are the others here yet?"

"Not yet. They should be here soon enough."

Right on cue, Allison comes to a stop in front of them. Starla's nose crinkles as she detects something different about Allison. It takes Starla a few moments to realize it's the smell of alcohol. It's potent enough to her keen senses that she has to take a step back.

"Sorry I'm late," Allison says. "What's going on?"

"I'll show you when we get inside. Elise should be here in a minute."

It's closer to five minutes when Elise climbs onto the pier. She picks at some seaweed that's gotten caught in her hair during the trip. There's a strange smell about her too, not from the seaweed or anything else sea-related. It's the smell of sex, Starla realizes.

That explains why Elise says, "What's so damned important that you had to drag me here?"

"Come on, I'll show you."

Starla hangs back as the others go through a hatch. She takes a deep breath before she forces herself to go inside. She's never really felt claustrophobic before, but now she feels like she's being stuffed into a box—or a coffin. She tells herself there's nothing to be afraid of; this is just a mission briefing, like countless others she attended when she was still Apex Man.

They make it to the control room without incident. Major Dalton gestures to one of her techs, who puts an image on the giant screen. Next to her, Elise giggles. "Are you serious?" she asks. "You brought us all this way to watch a Godzilla movie?"

"It's not a movie," Dalton says. She gestures to the metallic, tyrannosaurus-looking head visible above the surface of the water. "That's Dr. Roboto's island."

"So it's a Transformer?" Elise says with the same amount of disgust as her first remark.

"This is serious," Dalton snaps. "It _changed_ about three hours ago and started to head towards land. We've been sending fighters from the nearest carrier group, but they haven't done any damage to it. I've got subs en route, but I doubt they'll do much better."

"What's the rest of it look like?" Allison asks, leaning towards the screen for a better look.

"We haven't been able to see below the water line, but our satellite images from when it was changing suggest it looks about how you'd expect." An artist's conception of a giant robotic tyrannosaurus rex comes onto the screen.

"And you want us to stop it," Starla says.

Dalton nods. "It's going to make landfall in Tokyo within the hour. If it does, we're looking at massive damage."

"Who's at the controls?"

Dalton's cheeks turn red; it's something Starla doesn't remember seeing before. "It's Roboto. He escaped from Gitmo yesterday."

"And you didn't tell us?" Starla says.

"We've been trying to keep it quiet. No need to cause a panic."

Elise snorts. "This figures. You guys create a mess and now you expect us to come in and clean it up for you."

Starla puts a hand on Elise's shoulder. "Come on, millions of lives are at stake here."

"Because _she_ didn't tell us he broke out of jail. The bitch still doesn't trust us."

"You're starting to sound like Rob," Allison says with a half-smile.

"Well, as much as I hated the man, sometimes he was right," Elise says. She gestures to Dalton. "You military jerk-offs are always keeping your stupid little secrets until some criminal starts to run amok and then you call us in to clean it up for you."

Starla finds herself nodding in spite of herself. She remembers when they first heard about the Feminazi activating the island. Starla had thought of how she'd wanted to hurl the island into the sun, but the military had rebuffed her requests. That had led to her being turned into a woman. And now millions could die.

"Look, I'm sorry," Dalton says. "We screwed it up. Can we focus on the problem at hand?"

"What do you need us to do?" Starla asks. As much as she agrees with Elise, the major is right that they have to worry about the immediate threat. They can lay the blame later.

"Basically the idea is to keep it from getting on land. Elise, you try to run interference, see if you can get it to stop. Starla, do what you can to disable it. And Allison, you help get the civilians out of the way."

"Give her the easy job," Elise grumbles.

"Remember, don't take this lightly. We all know what happened last time and that wasn't even with Roboto at the controls. We can expect some heavy resistance this time."

"We? What are you going to do?"

"I'll be coordinating from the air. Like I said, we have subs en route and some other assets from Okinawa should be hitting the area. Any other questions?"

"Sounds good to me," Starla says, though she doesn't feel that confident. She hopes things go better than they did the last time they went up against Roboto's island.

***

Though Elise didn't really buy the story of Dr. Roboto's island turning into a giant metal dinosaur, she believes it more and more the closer she gets to Tokyo. Marine life of every sort cries out in terror as she passes. Groups of fish, whales, squids, and even sharks streak past as they flee from the shadowy giant.

She tries to get a coherent picture, but she can't. All she knows is it's big and it makes a lot of noise. The sea creatures are too frenzied for her to enlist their help against the monster, not that she knows how they could be helpful. It's unlikely she'll find any takers in Tokyo's harbor either.

While she swims, she thinks of Erek back on her atoll. She had left Paul there to go to Roboto's island and had lost him forever; would the same happen to Erek? She doesn't think she can stand to lose another man she loves. This, she supposes, is why Rob Holloway was always such an aloof jackass. He never had to worry about losing anyone he loved, except maybe that butler of his.

It's not fair. Even when she doesn't have to worry about being the ruler of Pacifica anymore, the moment she falls in love, something has to come along to ruin it. Provided she survives this, she's going to tell Dalton and her masters they can shove their superhero team. Let Starla and Allison handle things. She's out once this is over. Then she and Erek can spend the rest of their days on the atoll or in some nice little house down on the ocean floor, far away from all the world's problems.

With this thought in mind, she swims even faster. In a few minutes, she sees a massive shape ahead of her. This has to be the monster. It's easily the size of a ten-story building. A ten-story building with legs. Poseidon protect me, she prays as she glides in closer.

For the most part the thing does have the shape of a T-Rex, except its mechanical arms are longer, more like those of a human. It has two feet, but at the moment it's using a propulsion system on its back to move through the water faster than she would have thought possible. Two long slits in the back spew a wake trail that could probably knock Elise back a couple miles if she gets too close.

At the moment she has other problems to deal with. The monster doesn't seem to take any notice of her as she swims alongside it. She keeps her eyes sharp for any of those nets like the one that caught her the first time. It was nearly impossible to see and will probably be harder to see with the monster stirring up so much debris from the ocean floor.

The question now that she's so close is how she can possibly run interference as Major Dalton wants. By comparison to the monster she's not even a mosquito; she's more like an amoeba or some other microscopic creature. There seems no way she can draw its attention, let alone hurt it enough for it to consider her a threat.

A few leaves of kelp smack her in the face. As she wipes them off, a crazy idea begins to form. She can't hurt it, but if she can slow it down a little, then maybe that will be enough for Starla to handle it.

She summons the royal trident. Then she dives to the ocean floor. With the trident she spears a chunk of rock like it's a meatball on a plate of spaghetti. Thanks to the low gravity underwater, it's not too difficult for her to move a piece of rock the size of an SUV. This gets harder as she catches back up to the monster. The wake from its propulsion system is enough to knock her and the rock sideways.

She'll have to approach it sideways and try to jam the rock into one of the slits on the back that propel it along. The wake isn't so bad from this angle, allowing her to get closer. Once she's almost up against the side of the monster, she pushes the rock towards the slit. The wake tries to push it out, but she uses all her strength to roll it into the slit.

There's no explosion or grinding noise or anything like that. The wake does ebb on that side. She swims backwards as the monster lurches starboard. That seemed to do the trick. Maybe if she can find another rock she can repeat the procedure.

She won't get the chance. She watches as more slits open into holes. She counts a dozen in all. From each one spews a torpedo. "Oh, shit," she mutters. Then she swims for her life.

She dives as quick as she can, hoping to throw the torpedoes off. It works on half of them, leaving her with just six torpedoes left to deal with. They're gaining on her with each second that passes; another minute and she'll be a goner.

Ahead of her is the area of ocean floor from which she cut out the piece of rock. There are more outcroppings of rock there, like a forest of trees. She zigzags through these. Two of the torpedoes explode, spraying chunks of debris in all directions. A few pelt against Elise, but she's too busy to care.

With four more on her tail, she decides she has to change things up. She somersaults around to reverse direction. She hopes Roboto doesn't have someone to manually trigger the torpedoes if she gets close enough.

As she closes in, she raises the trident. One prong of the trident clips a fin of the torpedo. The weapon plunges towards the floor, where it harmlessly explodes. She repeats this on a second one. With the third she uses the trident like a bat to slap the torpedo away.

But there's still one more torpedo. It's only about ten feet away now. She grips the trident—

The torpedo's warhead opens. From it comes a net like the one that ensnared her before. "Not again," she mumbles before the net shocks her into unconsciousness.

***

Fighting underwater isn't one of Starla's strengths. She'd rather fight on the ground or above it. Even space is better than underwater, where her flame breath is useless and she can't fly. Still, she has to admit Major Dalton is right that they need to head the thing off before it can get into the city to do untold amounts of damage.

As she closes in, she sees the head of the beast on the surface. It's not hard to see since it's made of polished chrome with bright green eyes. Green eyes. Starla is fairly certain what those eyes can do. She'll have to be careful to avoid the gamma ray beams it almost certainly will try to shoot at her.

Nevertheless, she decides to try the head first since she can attack it from the air. She swoops down on it, her fire breath at the ready. She lets go a stream at the left eye, hoping to put that out of commission. When the smoke clears, though, she sees no damage at all.

Looks like she'll have to get in closer. She zigzags through the air, hoping to fool any targeting systems the thing might have. Nothing fires at her. The monster doesn't even seem to notice her presence. Just as well, she thinks.

She rears back and punches it in the left eye. This time she does some damage; the eye shatters against her fist. She pulls her fist back—

Her hand is stuck! "You've got to be kidding," she says. At first she thinks perhaps her sleeve is caught on something, but when she twists her body to get a better look, she sees a thick, gooey substance like cement has filled in where the eye used to be. She tries to pull her hand back, but it's like quicksand; the more she struggles, the farther in it goes.

With her free hand she slaps at the eye to no avail. She screams in frustration, her hand curling into a fist. She brings it down as hard as she can on top of the eye. At last her other hand emerges, though it's still coated in the cement-like stuff. She smacks this substance against the monster's head, but it won't come off.

Worse yet, the goo is _multiplying_. She watches as it coils up her arm, coating it up to the elbow and continuing to grow. Whatever it is must be alive.

There's only one thing to do. She turns her flame breath on her own arm. She tries to keep it dialed down so only a thin stream of flame leaps out at her arm. The goo halts at last. She sighs with relief. If she's careful, she can maybe peel it off—

The monster's jaws yawn open. From these jaws spew missiles. Each one has a green warhead. They must be some kind of gamma radiation projectiles.

Starla climbs into the air, but her rate of ascent is slowed by the goo still on her arm. It's like the stuff is pulling her down. Like a magnet, she thinks. Whatever it is, it must have some kind of magnetic field that pulls it—and her—towards the monster. That was why she couldn't move her hand.

She fights against the magnetic pull of the goo on her hand while the missiles continue to close. Her flame breath didn't do much good against the monster, but maybe it will work on these missiles. She summons a wall of flame that ought to destroy the missiles.

It works, but it works too well. The missiles explode in mid-air. Weighted down by the magnetic substance on her arm, she's not able to escape before a cloud of gamma radiation washes over her. The second it reaches her, she starts to drop like a rock towards the ocean.

She doesn't hit the water. A net extends from the side of the monster's head to catch her. Starla struggles against it, but she's too weak from the gamma radiation. Her attempt to roll off the net is held up by the magnetic goo on her arm that holds her down like a shackle. There's nothing she can do as the net pulls her into the monster.

***

It's not much of a surprise to Allison to find the authorities are skeptical of her claim about a giant metal beast coming to stomp Tokyo. Through an interpreter, she explains the message comes not from her but the United States military. That only elicits scoffs and eye rolling.

"Goddamn it, we have to get these people out of here!" she shouts at them. She wonders fleetingly if they would be more likely to believe her if she were still a man.

She's still arguing in vain when a crowd of dock workers runs by, screaming and pointing towards the harbor. She picks up the word "kaiju," which she knows is the Japanese word for a giant beast. Allison turns to the translator. "Tell them we have to evacuate as many people as we can before it's too late."

The policemen stare at her for a moment before one finally agrees. He gives the word to his people to evacuate the city. Police cars roll away, men with bullhorns shouting for people to get to safety. Air raid sirens begin to bleat.

Allison isn't sure what she's supposed to do now. Then the ground beneath her feet rumbles. There's a roar so loud it knocks her to her knees. From that position, she watches the creature emerge from the water.

It's just like a monster movie as the robot stomps up to the surface. Water streams from its chrome surface as more of it becomes visible. It has the head, torso, and legs of a tyrannosaurus rex, but the tail is shorter and the arms longer. Still, it's a good approximation of Godzilla.

She supposes Roboto chose Tokyo for that reason. He always did have a sense of humor like that. But what does he want? He was never interested in destruction for the sake of destruction. There has to be some kind of plan at work.

At the moment, though, they need to stop the creature. She looks around for Starla, but doesn't see her. On cue, Allison's watch beeps. Major Dalton's face is projected in the air. "Allison, I've got some bad news. I can't contact Starla or Elise."

"You mean I'm on my own?"

"I'm afraid so. We've got units inbound, but until then it's up to you."

"Just great," she mutters. Alone against a ten-story metal dinosaur. She isn't sure what she can do. She can't punch it or breathe fire on it like Starla. She can't summon whales to do her bidding either. All she can do is run fast. What good is that?

The monster roars again and pounds closer. It tears through electrical wires, which fall to the ground to spark and sizzle. One of these lands within a few feet of Allison. Much closer and she might have been electrocuted—

Of course. If it's a robot then it must run on electricity. What she needs is an electromagnetic pulse powerful enough to incapacitate the thing. But unless Major Dalton drops a nuke on Tokyo, there's no way to easily create a big enough pulse.

Maybe there's another way. She speeds through the city to find the ingredients for what she needs. In a factory near where the monster is coming ashore, she finds some iron tubing. She rolls these into a pile in the center of the road a couple of miles from the monster. Then she speeds over to a construction site, where she finds enough copper wiring for what she needs. Then she bursts into a store that sells fireworks to clean them out of firecrackers. The hardest part is to find some industrial strength magnets in a laboratory.

Altogether her craft project's taken ten minutes so far. Now she has to assemble the pieces to make an EMP device she hopes will be capable of shorting out the monster. Chances are it'll short out a good portion of the Tokyo area as well, but it's better than the alternative.

"What are you doing?" the police translator asks her.

"Stay back," she says. She goes to work on wrapping the copper wire around the iron tubes. Then she stuffs the firecrackers and magnets into the tubes. There's only one thing she's missing: a match.

She races into a gift shop for a cigarette lighter. After a few clicks the lighter comes to life. She lights the fuses for the firecrackers and then speeds away. Along the way, she grabs the translator, making sure he's safely away from the area. Everyone else had the good sense to clear out already.

She ducks as the firecrackers begin to go off. There's no way to see the EMP pulse as her homemade devices explode. She has to hope for the best.

She's certain she's failed when she hears the monster roar again. "Damn it." She doesn't have any idea what to do now. About all she can do is help the people of Tokyo evacuate while Dr. Roboto crushes the city with his giant toy.

The monster takes one step, but in midair the foot grinds to a halt. There's a screech of metal that makes Allison put her hands to her ears. She watches as the monster teeters now that it's off balance. It just needs a push to fall over. If only Starla were here to give it that push—

A cluster of missiles slam into the back of the beast. They must be cruise missiles launched from some of Major Dalton's assets in the area. At least they didn't get caught in the EMP pulse. A second barrage hits near the thigh of the monster. Allison watches as the creature teeters again.

This time it begins the laborious process of falling down. Allison puts her hands to her ears again as a horrible screech comes from the monster. It falls forward and a little to the right, into the side of a skyscraper. She hopes everyone got out of there in time.

Allison hears the whop-whop of helicopter rotors. She recognizes the Osprey cargo transport as the same one back at Major Dalton's base. This must be the cavalry here to break into the monster and root out Dr. Roboto.

She speeds over to where the monster lays. It takes some advanced free running skills for her to make her way through the rubble of the collapsed building and to the top of the beast, what used to be its back. Major Dalton is already out of the Osprey, dressed in full combat gear.

"That was some impressive work," Dalton says.

"Thanks. I wasn't sure it would work."

"Well it did. We're going to clean up now. You're welcome to join us."

"Of course," Allison says. There's a chance Starla and Elise might be in the monster if Roboto captured them. If not, then she can punch Roboto a few times for them.

There's a rent in the creature's armor big enough for the soldiers to drop through. Major Dalton gestures to her. "After you."

Allison drops through the rent, into darkness. Her eyes are still trying to adjust when she hears Major Dalton come down next to her. Then she feels a prick like a bee sting on her left arm. Instantly Allison's knees buckle and her legs turn to rubber. Like the monster she teeters for a moment before she falls forward.

The last thing she hears is Major Dalton saying, "Sorry, sweetheart. It's nothing personal, just business."

### Chapter 25

They come up empty in Atomic City and Focal City. Starla and Allison have probably gone somewhere else; God knows they both have the capability to be pretty much anywhere they want at any time. From the backseat of the jet, Melvin whines, "Do you even know Apex Girl and Velocity Gal?"

"Yes. You want me to get you an autograph?"

"That would be cool." He looks out the window, down at Focal City. Then he grabs one of the barf bags to spew into it. Once he's finished, he asks, "How can you know they aren't here from way up here?"

"Superpeople have a unique heat signature you can pick up on if you have sensitive enough equipment. Try to keep that on the down low, would you?"

"OK," he says. Midnight doubts he has anyone except her to tell and no stranger would believe him. "What do we do now?"

She sighs into her mic and then says, "I guess we check out Pacifica. Mermaid might be hanging around there."

"Can this thing go underwater?"

"No."

"Batman's plane can go underwater."

"Then maybe you should get a ride with him."

Times like this she regrets not hitting Melvin with the Taser again and leaving him tied up in the bunker. He doesn't seem to appreciate the gravity of the situation yet; for him it's all still make-believe. He has no idea of the stakes involved.

She cuts in the jet's primary engines to get them out to Pacifica. It should take a couple of hours to get there and then they'll have to wait while she drops a sensor buoy to check for Elise. That stuck-up bitch is the last of the Super Squad Midnight wants to go to, but she doesn't seem to have a choice. The jet has great range, but not even it can traverse the whole globe to look for someone who might have flown off into space or someone who can run from one side of the earth to the other in a minute.

Once she has the autopilot set, she turns back in her seat. Melvin's face is still green, but he hasn't been puking quite as often. "How you holding up back there?"

"Fine."

"It's going to be two or three hours until we get to Pacifica. You should take a little nap. It might help settle your stomach."

"I can't sleep at a time like this. It's too exciting."

"Suit yourself." She turns forward again and then pushes a few buttons to bring up her auxiliary console, which is like a primitive version of a tablet. It's connected to the computer at the bunker, which allows her to do some more research on the traitorous Major Dalton.

She still hasn't been able to figure out exactly why Dalton is working with Roboto. It doesn't make much sense to her as so far Dalton hasn't really benefited in any way from the arrangement. What connection the Feminazi has to all this is even less clear.

Midnight looks through Dalton's service record for any red flags. She already knows about a lot of the engagements listed since she and the rest of the Squad were involved. Before she took over as the liaison to the Super Squad, Dalton served as an aide to Colonel Max Storm, their previous liaison. Storm hadn't been any more forward with the team. He had also demonstrated a certain amount of distaste for the job. She supposes out of professional pride he'd hated to need a bunch of freaks in costumes to fight battles for him.

"What are you doing?" Melvin asks.

"Playing a game."

"No you're not. You never play games. You don't even have solitaire on your iPad."

"So what? Maybe I play my games online."

"Why can't you tell me what's going on? I'm part of this too."

"That was your decision. I'm the one who didn't want you to come, remember?"

"Maybe I can help."

She scoffs at this. "I doubt it."

After another bout of puking he says, "Why not? At least let me try."

She rolls her eyes despite that he can't see it and then says, "Fine. Maybe it'll put you to sleep." She gives him an abbreviated version of what she's found out about Dalton and Dr. Roboto. She doesn't mention the Feminazi or the incident that changed the Super Squad into women; there's no need to creep him out with that yet.

"So this major is working with a bad guy?"

"In a nutshell, yes."

"Maybe we should go talk to her."

"Unless you think you can storm a secure government facility that's not on the menu."

"So you want to tell one of the Super Squad to let them deal with it?"

"Winner, winner, chicken dinner."

"What?"

"It's what they say when you win at blackjack."

"You play blackjack?"

"I have a time or two," she says. She used to play it quite often in casinos when she was living off the grid and needed money. When they tried to work her over in the back room for counting cards was also a good way to get in some fighting practice. "I can teach you the rules later."

"Sure." He throws up into his bag and then reaches for another. His voice trembles as he asks, "Before you got to Swearingen, did you ever... _you know_...with anyone?"

"Are you talking about sex?"

"Yes." When he throws up this time she doubts it's from motion sickness. "Did you?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I hear other kids talking about it all the time and you seem so...worldly that I wondered if you had."

"Worldly? You mean I'm a slut?"

"No! I mean you've done so many cool things—" he trails off to make use of the bag again.

"No, I haven't done it," she says. She supposes that's technically true since she hasn't done it as a girl. "Are you wanting me to show you how?"

"No! I...I—"

"I'm just yanking your chain," she says.

"Oh." He doesn't say anything for a while, probably too embarrassed after this last exchange. She goes back to Dalton's file. She notes before Dalton joined the army, she was a student at Sarah Lawrence. That doesn't seem like the kind of school for a hard-nosed grunt like Major Dalton.

She only needs a few seconds to obtain Dalton's school records. She was a good student, an art history major. Then she dropped out in her senior year, only ten credits shy of graduation. Did she run out of money? Or did she just realize there was no point in an art history degree?

Out of curiosity, she finds copies of Dalton's yearbooks. It never hurts to know more about a potential enemy. Maybe something in one of these yearbooks can explain why a promising art history student at a prestigious school dropped out to roll in the mud with a bunch of poor rednecks, ghetto kids, and illegal aliens.

The freshman Carrie Dalton looks almost like another person with her long hair, bulky glasses, and shy smile. With each successive picture the hair gets shorter and the smile gets narrower. She ditches the glasses in senior year and sports a mullet that would fit right in with the army rednecks.

The computer brings up another picture of Dalton in her senior year. She's in the back row of the field hockey team photo, one well-toned arm around another girl. Midnight's blood turns cold as she recognizes the other girl.

It's the Feminazi.

She has the computer zoom in and extrapolate to give her a better look. There's no doubt at all that the girl Dalton is cozying up to on the field hockey team is the same one who took over Roboto's island and used that weapon on Midnight and the others. "Goddamn it," she mutters.

"You found something?"

"I think so." She finds the name listed in the photo: Katrina Knox. She tries to look up the girl's records at the school, but nothing comes up. In fact, nothing comes up for Katrina Knox anywhere. It's like she's a ghost.

No, she's not a ghost. She just had a well-connected friend who could make her records disappear. That would allow her to operate without anyone in the Pentagon, CIA, FBI, NSA, and the rest of the world's law enforcement and intelligence agencies to be able to track her. She wouldn't be surprised if the same were true for the thugs she'd had on the island.

And then after Roboto is captured, Dalton uses her influence to get operational codes from him. She passes those on to her buddy the Feminazi, who gets the island working. She triggers the security alarms and Dalton calls up the Super Squad to send them into a trap.

Why? That's the missing piece of the puzzle. She doesn't understand the end game for the Feminazi. Why turn them into women? Why not just kill them when she had the chance? Midnight supposes like a lot of supervillains the Feminazi had wanted them to suffer. Maybe she wanted them to see how the other half lives. And meanwhile Dalton's been egging them on, helping them adjust to their new bodies, giving them new identities, and showing them off to the world press.

Midnight checks their position on the computer. Now more than ever she needs to get a hold of her former teammates. They're still about a half-hour out of Pacifica. She hopes Elise is there. Or maybe she's in her little hideaway to shack up with some guy, provided she still likes guys and hasn't turned lesbian yet. That would be an interesting case study for researchers—

Melvin taps her on the shoulder. She figures he's going to ask for another barf bag. Instead he says, "I know where your friends are."

"What? How could you know that?"

"It's all over the news right now." He hands over his cell phone. Midnight stares at the screen in disbelief. There's a giant metal dinosaur in Tokyo! The footage is a bit grainy, but when Midnight runs the news feed through the bunker's computers, she can see Allison putting together a crude EMP device. The pile of iron pipes and copper wire explodes and then the news feed cuts out.

There's no doubt in Midnight's mind Roboto is behind the metal dinosaur. She also has no doubt Dalton sent the Super Squad into another trap. This time Midnight doubts they'll get out of it alive.

"Hold on," she tells Melvin before she lights the afterburners to top speed.

***

When they're a hundred miles from Tokyo, the radio comes to life. "Unidentified aircraft, you are entering a restricted area. Please change your course immediately."

She ignores them until she sees the two F/A-18 Hornets approaching, probably from an aircraft carrier in the vicinity. One of the Hornets falls in behind them while the other tries to pull alongside for a closer look. Midnight has to slow the jet down so the Hornet can catch up. "Take off your helmet," she says to Melvin.

"What? Why?"

"Just do it. Unless you want to get shot down."

He whips the helmet off. He follows her lead in waving to the Hornet's pilot. She manages to smile while Melvin musters only a queasy grin. The pilot waves back to them and then gestures they should turn around.

"Christ, it's just a couple of kids," the pilot says over the tactical frequency. Midnight grimaces at this, though she knows it will work in their favor.

"Unidentified aircraft, you must turn around and leave this area immediately or we will be forced to open fire," the air traffic controller says.

Midnight takes a deep breath and then forces herself to sob into the microphone. "I'm so sorry. I was just taking my uncle's plane for a ride. Please don't tell my parents!"

"Young lady, you have to turn your plane around right away."

"I can't! It's on autopilot and I don't know how to turn it off!"

"Do you know what type of plane it is? We need you to tell us so we can help you get down safely."

"I don't know! It's just a stupid plane. I wanna go home!"

Behind her, Melvin throws up into the barf bag again. That should help sell the validity of their story as a couple of idiot teens out for a joyride. Except most teens did that in a car, not a hundred million dollar fighter jet.

"Amber One, can you get an ID on the aircraft type?"

"Negative. It's not any make I'm familiar with."

"It looks like a damned sweet ride," the other pilot chips in.

"Can the chatter, Amber Two. Give me a description of the aircraft."

While Amber One begins to describe the plane, Midnight settles her helmet back on her head. "You better get your helmet back on," she tells Melvin. "It's about to get bumpy."

She waits until Melvin's helmet is on before she changes over to the vertical landing jets. The jet stops in midair. The Hornet behind them is barely able to avoid a collision while the one beside them streaks past. Midnight throws the jet into a sharp climb, into the clouds. Then she triggers the jet's camouflage.

In seconds the outside of the jet changes from matte gray to bands of blue and white to mask it against the sky. "Can Batman's plane do that?" Midnight says.

"No, but Wonder Woman has an invisible jet."

"Some people are never satisfied," she grumbles. She wishes her plane truly were invisible. It is practically invisible, especially when she turns on the jamming to scramble their radars and their radios. Then she eases the jet through a bank of clouds, the paint scheme changing to accommodate the changing tones of white and gray.

They hover amongst the clouds while the Hornets futilely search the area for them. They move along after a few minutes, probably figuring their quarry slipped out of the area. She changes over to the afterburners again to head towards Tokyo.

By the time they reach the city, the metal dinosaur is already on the ground, buried amongst a skyscraper. She sees an Osprey in the area, keeping watch over the monster. There's no sign of Allison or Starla, but they're probably inside. Still, something doesn't feel right about this to Midnight. It's too easy.

She does a few lazy circles over the creature from high overhead. On the second pass, she drops a sensor buoy. While it's designed to go underwater, it should work well enough amongst the debris to give her a better look at the thing.

"What are we doing?" Melvin asks.

"Biding our time," she says.

"For what? They killed the dinosaur already. Shouldn't we go down there to talk to them?"

"We'll go down when I say," she growls. That shuts him up. She goes back to studying the readings from the sensor buoy. It uses a combination of infrared, X-rays, and magnetic resonance to give her a three-dimensional view of the outside of the dinosaur. Most of the interior is shielded, but thanks to a few gashes torn in the metal, Midnight's scanners can give her a partial view of the interior.

The interior view gives her a look at something very familiar. Now it's all starting to make sense, though as with many supervillain plans it still only makes sense in an impractical, roundabout way. "The dinosaur wasn't supposed to destroy the city," she says. "They wanted it to get stopped."

"Why would they want that?"

"If I tell you, you promise not to freak out?"

"Yes."

"You mean it? Because this isn't going to be pleasant."

"I promise."

With a sigh, she takes off her helmet and then turns to face him. She tells him everything. It's no surprise he needs to use the barf bag a few times throughout the story. As she finishes, he leans back in his chair, his eyes wide. "You mean you used to be...a man?"

"That's right. I'm the original Midnight Spectre."

"But now you're...a girl?"

"That's what I was trying to tell you." She shakes her head. "You promised not to freak out about it."

"I'm not freaking out."

"You are too! You're looking at me like I have three heads." She wipes furiously at her eyes when she realizes she's crying. Goddamn these hormones.

"It's just really...weird," he says. "You're so cute. Not like a guy at all. I mean most guys who get a sex change you can tell, but you look so natural."

"Thanks. I think."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean—"

"It's fine. Now, it's up to us to stop them. You always wanted to be a superhero, didn't you?" When he nods, she continues, "Now's your chance. I'm going to need your help to pull this off. Can I count on you?"

He nods again. She tells him what she has in mind. He needs the barf bag again. "You can't do that!" he says. "Those people will have guns and stuff. They could kill you."

"I know. It's a calculated risk. And I know I've got my partner backing me up." She reaches over the seat to take his hand and shake it.

"I won't let you down," he says.

"Good. Then here we go." She pulls her hand back and then punches the release for his ejection seat.

### Chapter 26

Midnight isn't sure where Melvin lands. She already has the fighter moving in towards Roboto's monster. She brings it around to land about twenty feet in front of a group of soldiers, who scatter to cover amongst the rubble. She shuts down the engines, pops the canopy, and then stands with her hands up.

Ten laser sights converge over the heart of her puffy gray vest. She reinforced the vest with Kevlar composite strips taken from her old costume, but she doesn't want to find out if it can withstand ten direct hits from a machine gun. "Easy, boys," she says. "I'm a friend of Major Dalton. Tell her Midnight Spectre has arrived."

"Yeah, right," one soldier says. "You're just some punk kid."

"Would some punk kid have an awesome jet like this?"

"So you stole it from him. Big deal."

"You guys really are thick. Just call Major Dalton and tell her."

To her relief one of them finally does. "There's some kid here calling herself Midnight Spectre. You want I should give her a spanking?" He puts a finger to one ear while Midnight resists the urge not to lunge at him and kick him in the crotch a few times. The soldier lowers his finger from his ear, followed by his rifle. "It's all right. The major's coming up to meet you."

"Thanks, guys," Midnight says. She hops down from the cockpit, onto the back of the machine. None of the soldiers say anything to her as they wait; they just glare at her like they want to bash her head in. The feeling's mutual.

Major Dalton finally appears through a crack in the monster's armor. She smiles and to Midnight's embarrassment pulls her into a hug. "Look at you! That's such an adorable costume. It looks almost like your old one." She brushes Midnight's hood back to get a better look at her face, most of which is covered with a black mask. "You're only missing the belt."

"It's too big," Midnight says, her cheeks turning warm.

"Come on, we've got Roboto down in the control room." She takes Midnight's left bicep and squeezes it. "You've been working out, haven't you?"

"I try."

"That's good. Won't be much longer until you're back on the team."

"I'm sure Elise can't wait for that."

Dalton laughs at this. She's overplaying her hand, acting too casual. If Midnight didn't already know the truth, she would suspect Dalton was up to something. "Actually, with you gone, she's become the malcontent of the group."

"Everyone needs a hobby, I suppose."

Dalton goes through the crack first. She holds up her hands to help Midnight down, but Midnight jumps down on her own. The lights are off inside the creature, but someone's glued flashlights to the walls to give the corridor a sort of campfire glow. Dalton has to squat down when the tunnel narrows, but Midnight only has to worry her cape or hood will catch on something.

She waits until she's certain they're alone in the belly of the beast before she says, "So, you know a Katrina Knox?"

She expects Dalton to whirl around in surprise or perhaps to even bash her head on a low-hanging piece of machinery. She only shrugs. "Should I?"

"There's a picture of you and her on the Sarah Lawrence field hockey team." Midnight smiles. "You got everything else. I'd have never figured it out if not for that picture."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Katrina Knox was the Feminazi. Don't deny it. I saw her face. There's no way I'd forget it after what she did to us. The two of you must have been pretty chummy. So chummy you wiped away all evidence of her past. And then you hooked her up with Dr. Roboto's island and that alien ray gun. As the kicker, you led us right into the trap the two of you cooked up."

"That's an interesting theory."

"I have plenty of evidence to back it up. It might not stand up at a court-martial hearing, but I'm sure it'll interest Kate King. You know how much she loves getting the goods on the military-industrial complex."

"You haven't sent it to her yet. So all I have to do is get on the horn to my guys upstairs to blow up that jet of yours. A couple more hours and I can have Green Berets in that bunker of yours you think is so impregnable."

"You really think I'm that dumb? I've already got it in an email that will send in six hours—unless I stop it."

Dalton stares at Midnight for a moment. With surprising speed for a woman pushing forty she yanks her sidearm out. "I'm sure you've got some bulletproof material in that cute little vest of yours, but I doubt you had time to implant any under your thick skull."

"Touche. But that will make sure the email goes out, won't it? Your whole scheme will be exposed. See how fast any buddies you have in the Pentagon give you up."

Dalton laughs. "I don't have any buddies in the Pentagon. Or anywhere else. I had one buddy and you killed her. So tell me: why shouldn't I put a bullet in your head?"

"I think I outlined my case pretty clearly. Go ahead and shoot if you want."

Dalton considers it for a moment. Then she smiles. "Same old Rob. Always so bull-headed, even when you're a wimpy kid. Speaking of, what happened to your boyfriend?"

"I ditched him over the harbor. He should be able to swim to shore."

"The two of you make a cute couple. Though those navy fighter jocks don't think so right about now. That was a thing of beauty how you gave them the slip."

"Thanks. It's nice to have a fan," she says and then remembers she said the same thing to the Feminazi. "Why don't we stop all this circling around and just put the cards on the table? Why did you do it? Why betray us? What are you getting out of it?"

"Is this the part where you try to make me talk long enough for you to pull a rabbit out of your hat? You got that plane of yours rigged to blow?"

"You know I don't use the same trick twice. Let's just call it professional curiosity."

Dalton shrugs. "All right, sweetie, I'll tell you. You haven't been a woman long enough to understand what it's really like to feel like a second-class citizen. My parents were a couple of rich old birds, kept me locked away on a pedestal in an ivory tower. Sent me off to Sarah Lawrence so I could learn the 'refinement' I needed to marry some rich bastard and pop out his kids."

"And let me guess, you met Katrina Knox your sophomore year and she turned you on to all that feminist claptrap about women should be in charge and whatnot?"

"How can you be a woman and still be misogynistic?" Dalton shoots back.

"It's a gift."

"Well, honey, we aren't all worth five billion dollars."

"Just a few hundred million?"

"If you're trying to say we're anything alike, little girl, you can stop right there. I am a soldier, not some cowboy trying to work out his psychological trauma by beating up criminals."

"So what's all this?"

"I'm going to finish what Kat started."

"Which is to make some kind of feminist paradise with Dr. Roboto's toy?"

"If you want to put it so cynically."

Midnight shrugs. "Fine, I can understand wanting to avenge your girlfriend and all that. Why did you do this to us?"

"That's where Kat and I differed. She was always so hotheaded. She thought you had to change the system from the outside."

"And you wanted to change it from within, which is why you joined the military."

"What is more symbolic of man's control of the world than the US Army? I figured if I could hack the basic training I might be able to make general someday, maybe even the Joint Chiefs."

"Maybe president after that?"

"It was possible, at least back then. But Kat was right: I'd never crack the glass ceiling. When I took the job as Storm's aide, I thought it was my ticket to the top. I mean here I was working with the most powerful people on Earth. That had to count for something, didn't it?"

"You seem to be doing fine for yourself."

Dalton snorts at this. "Yeah, right. They passed me over for promotion to colonel. It won't be much longer and they'll force me into retirement."

"So you and Knox hit on this scheme to use Roboto?"

"It's all thanks to you guys, really. You dropped Roboto right into my lap. I got to interrogating him and found out about this alien sex-changing ray of his."

"You couldn't use it yourself, so you brought in Knox to do it for you. This before or after you wiped her existence off every government mainframe?"

"I've been doing that for years. Every time she'd get busted, I'd break her out, wipe her old ID, and give her a new one. When I found her the last time, she'd hooked up with a few other like-minded girls."

"And you gave them the idea for the Feminazi and her Merry Gals."

"I wish you'd stop interrupting so much."

"I'm just moving the story along."

"I can see why the others hated you so much. You're such a smart ass. You think that really impresses anyone? You don't think we all know what a pathetic, broken little shit you are inside?"

"I've been psychoanalyzed by better than you."

"I'll admit it's been no small pleasure to see you brought down to this, some skinny little nobody still pathetically trying to thumb her nose at the world."

"Is that why you haven't shot me yet?"

"I haven't shot you because I want you to see the plan unfold." She grabs Midnight by the arm again. Midnight could try to resist, but she wants to know what's going on here. From what she can see now, though, Dalton has completely gone around the bend. She's ready to kill millions of innocent people because she didn't get a promotion and her lover was killed.

At the same time, Midnight appreciates how well Dalton has executed her plan. She orchestrated everything beautifully. She pulled all the right strings to arrange things to suit her purposes. It might be brilliant if it weren't so damned crazy.

Dr. Roboto's throne room has been rebuilt since the last time Midnight saw it. The damage made by her jet has been repaired to the point it's impossible to see it. Starla, Allison, and Elise are chained up as they were before, all three unconscious. From the look of it, none of them have been hurt, just neutralized.

"Welcome, Miss Holloway," says the synthesized voice of Dr. Roboto. He sits on his throne, his entire body gleaming with the same chrome finish as his monster.

The reason for Dr. Roboto's name is that he is a doctor and he is—now—a robot. A cyborg is the more appropriate term. When he lost a leg in a car accident, he found artificial legs to be inferior. So he created a robotic one for himself. He saw no reason to stop there. He replaced one limb at a time, working with only his assistant, a servant robot he called Igor as a joke. Midnight imagines the pain that must have been involved with each surgery, but when it was complete, Roboto's entire body had been replaced with titanium alloy—everything except his brain. He's tried to create an artificial brain for himself, but so far he hasn't succeeded in one capable of holding all his knowledge.

Roboto gets up from his throne and stomps over to Dalton and Midnight. He stands about two feet taller than Midnight now and probably a half-ton heavier. If she punched him, she'd break every bone in her arm. The better solution would be to try her mini-EMP, but it's on her utility belt, which she doesn't have.

He just about doubles her over when one metal hand rakes through her hair. "You make an attractive young girl, Miss Holloway. I would never have imagined such beauty was possible all the times we crossed swords over the years."

"You'll make an attractive toaster when we get done with you."

"Your spirit is still the same. That is good. It will be perfect for the test."

"What test?"

"For the weapon, of course." One of Roboto's eyes glows red. A hatch opens in the top of the room. Through the hatch appears the weapon that changed Midnight and the others into women. Only now it's larger and she imagines many times more powerful.

"So what's your plan? You're going to use this on heads of state, CEOs, people like that? Threaten to leave them that way if they don't meet your price?"

"You think much too small," Roboto says. He stomps over to start fiddling with the machine.

"Like I said, we're going to finish what Kat started," Dalton says. "We're going to change the balance of power in the whole world, starting here in Japan, a country that for centuries has subjugated women."

"You're going to turn everyone in Tokyo into a woman?"

"That's right. It'll level the playing field once and for all."

Midnight snorts at this. "Sure. Now all those rich male assholes running things will be rich _female_ assholes. Great plan."

She isn't prepared for Dalton to pistol whip her. Midnight tries to roll with the impact, but she's too late. She drops to her knees. Tears bubble up in her eyes. "I wouldn't figure you'd understand. We're starting a revolution here. Ordinary women will see they don't have to be afraid anymore. They don't have to be intimidated or cowed by men and men's rules anymore."

Midnight waits for Dalton to cackle like a maniac, but she doesn't; she's not that far gone yet. Dalton does smile down on her. "Your friends here have actually helped get the ball rolling. The world's seen what women can do now. They've seen we're just as powerful and capable as men."

"So that was why you brought us to the island?"

"Actually Kat thought the ray would make you all into ordinary women to get you out of the way. It worked in your case, but not the others. I figured I might as well use the resources I have."

"So you staged all that press for a new Super Squad. You probably even let Geiger, Inertia, and Killer Whale out, didn't you?"

"Guilty as charged."

"And now what are you going to do with them?"

"I'm going to make them martyrs for the cause. They died heroically to save us from a man's tyranny."

Midnight turns to Roboto. "And you're OK with this? I mean, inside that Cuisinart you call a head, you are still a man."

"I've taken care of him," Dalton says. "With your help. You remember that little program you wrote after the first time we went up against Roboto?"

"The virus I came up with that's supposed to incapacitate his decision-making functions," Midnight says. "I don't recall giving you a copy."

"We found it in the wreckage of your plane, along with plans for a few other goodies you were holding back from us."

"Those were only plans," Midnight says. "I hadn't even made prototypes yet."

"Well, then I guess we saved you some time and effort." Dalton puts a hand on Roboto's shoulder. "Thanks to you, Dr. Roboto is my obedient slave now. And once his usefulness has ended, he can go to the junkyard."

"I guess you thought of everything then. Congratulations."

"Thank you." She turns to Roboto and says, "Let's get the first test underway."

"As you wish," Roboto says. Then he presses the button to start the machine.

***

Melvin feels like a mouse in a maze as he follows the diagram of the monster's interior on his cell phone. The nightvision lenses Robin gave to him allow him to see as if it were bright as day inside. Most of what he sees are gears, pistons, and hydraulic pumps two or three times bigger than him. He's tempted to study them, but there isn't time.

Robin told him he had to find the main relays for the device within five minutes. He would have another three minutes to deactivate it with the instructions Robin left for him. "Don't be late," she told him. "The fate of the world depends on it."

From the watch on his wrist, he sees he only has a minute left to find the relays. According to the map he's still a ways away. He picks up his pace, running as fast as he can through the machinery. Robin is counting on him. Robin and the entire world.

Since he read his first Batman comic at age five, Melvin has dreamed of being a hero. He never had the physical skills to make that dream a reality. Even with Robin's help, his body still isn't anything like a comic book hero's. That doesn't matter right now. Right now all he needs to do is deactivate those relays.

He's a minute late when he reaches them. The relays have an amber glow to them to indicate they're active. Each relay is twice as big as Melvin. It would be impossible for him to shut them down by hand.

He doesn't need to do that. He just has to attach a pair of clips like jumper cables to the first relay. The clips are attached to a cord that plugs into his cell phone. If Robin is right, this should allow him to access the controls of the relays to override them.

The commands come up as Robin indicated. He punches in the responses accordingly. After a couple of minutes, he realizes something is wrong: the relay isn't shutting down. The amber glow is actually getting stronger. "What the hell?" he mutters.

He abandons the commands Robin told him to use. Whoever programmed this system really knew what they were doing. The encryption actually keeps changing in order to deflect his commands. It's a pretty clever system, but he can break it. He needs a few more minutes—

The amber glow around him turns to bright pink. He hears a hum that's louder than a ship's foghorn. From the glow, the hum, and the readings on the cell phone, he knows the relays are being put to use. If he works quickly enough, maybe he can force an overload.

He's not quick enough. There's a surge of power through the relays that sends him flying through the air, until he smacks into a gear. He crumples to the "floor," where a wave of pain washes over him. It feels like his entire body is on fire. Through the haze of pain he sees his chest expanding before a veil of hair drops over his face.

"Oh shit," he squeaks before he passes out.

### Chapter 27

The world explodes with pink light. Midnight drops to her knees and tries not to scream as her body burns with pain. She knows what's happening to her when her mask and hood droop over her face. She's getting smaller and smaller, her hands becoming lost in her sleeves and her pants pooling at her feet.

Then she hears Dalton scream. Midnight tosses her head back to shake off the hood; her mask slips down to hang from her neck like a necklace. She sees Dalton has gotten a taste of her own medicine. The major's body has shrunk and lost most of its muscle tone, so that her uniform hangs off her like it's still on the hanger. Her breasts have shrunk to nubs and pimples have popped up on her face to indicate she's just a teenager now, maybe fifteen at most. Straight black hair hangs down to the middle of her back to make her look almost like her freshman yearbook picture.

A gasp prompts Midnight to turn to the Super Squad. They've undergone changes too. Elise has undergone the most radical change. She's become a real mermaid now with a glistening turquoise fish tail from the waist down. Her upper body is covered in silvery-blue scales. Her hair has turned into a lank green mess that puts Midnight in mind of seaweed. From the way Elise's gills flap impotently and the gasps escaping her mouth, it's obvious she's dying, a fish out of water.

By comparison, Starla and Allison have gotten off light. They've become funhouse mirror versions of themselves. Starla's body has turned so scrawny that her ribs are visible against the fabric of her costume. Much of her hair has fallen out, to leave only a dry, boyish mop. By contrast, Allison has ballooned with fat, to the point she's probably four hundred pounds. She's so fat her chains actually bite into her gut and saggy biceps.

The pink light finally fades away. Before Midnight can scramble to her feet in her now clown-sized boots, one of Roboto's hands grabs her by the front of her shirt. Her legs and feet are pulled right out of her pants and boots. That's no problem since her shirt and vest cover her like a nightgown.

In Roboto's chrome finish, she sees the face of a little girl maybe seven years old at most. Wavy copper hair falls past her waist and her pudgy cheeks turn red as she begins to cry. "Lemme go!" she shrieks, kicking furiously at him, not that it does any good.

"I must say this is a definite improvement," Roboto says. He keeps her in one hand while he stomps over to where Dalton lays in a heap.

Dalton fumbles around in her oversized uniform until she comes up with a square of black plastic. She pushes a button on it, her cheeks getting redder with each press of the button. She finally hurls the device to the ground and begins to cry. "No, this isn't supposed to happen! You were supposed to use the device only on them!"

He seizes Dalton with his other metal hand. "Did you really think that program could control _me_? Did you really imagine I would be _your_ slave?"

Midnight isn't surprised the program didn't work. She had long ago determined it needed more refinement, but she hadn't ever gotten around to making those changes. Obviously Dalton's programmers hadn't either. Why should they when it must have seemed to work so well?

From behind them comes a wheeze. Elise thrashes from side to side on her gurney as she struggles to breathe. "You gotta get her in water," Midnight says. "Or she'll die."

That's probably what Roboto intends. Midnight and Elise haven't ever gotten along, but she deserves a better end than this. They all do, except perhaps Major Dalton; she's getting exactly what she deserves for betraying all the people who trusted her.

To Midnight's surprise, Roboto says, "Don't worry, little one, I have prepared for this circumstance."

A hole opens up in the floor in front of Elise's gurney. The gurney tilts up to allow her to slide down into the hole, where Midnight hears a splash. The hole in the floor opens wider, enough to allow a clear globe of water to rise.

It's a giant fish bowl, complete with a plastic castle and frogman. Elise thrashes around in the water to free herself from the chains. She's finally able to free herself, but there's nowhere for her to go. She does a few laps of the bowl before she pounds against the glass. "Let me out of here!" she shouts, her voice sounding as if she's chewing on gravel.

"I'm afraid if I do that, you'll die," Roboto says. "It's your choice."

Elise ponders this for a moment and then goes still. "This isn't over," she grumbles.

Midnight would like to believe that, but the fact the machine is still working indicates her ace-in-the-hole has failed. She wonders what happened to Melvin. Maybe he ran away after she dropped him. Or maybe some of Dalton's goons killed him. Or maybe he died in the bowels of the machine.

Tears come faster to her eyes as she knows his blood is on her hands. She sent him to his death. She should have done it herself. Instead she left it up to an amateur, an amateur with a good heart and plenty of brains, but short on the street smarts necessary to survive in this business. She knows better than that; that's why she never worked with a sidekick before.

"Now it is time to move on to the next phase of the plan," Roboto says. "I will require your assistance, Miss Dalton."

"Why would I help you?"

"You don't have a choice." Roboto's red eyes begin to change colors in a seemingly random way. Midnight knows what's happening as she watches Dalton's eyes widen and then become fixed. "From now on, Miss Dalton, you will be my eager servant. You will follow my commands without hesitation. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."

Roboto's eyes turn on Midnight. They run through the same sequence. By all rights the hypnosis should work on her too, except Midnight long ago trained her mind to resist all forms of mental manipulation. Nevertheless, she forces her eyes to widen and fixate on Roboto's eyes. "And you, little Miss Holloway, will treat Miss Dalton as your big sister. You will eagerly do what she—and by extension, me—tells you to do. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Master," Midnight squeaks.

"Very good. Miss Dalton, tell your compatriots to come here so I may make use of them."

"Yes, sir."

Roboto drops Dalton to the floor. She reaches into her pocket for a radio. She lowers her voice to make it sound more normal as she tells her men to come into the main chamber. The voice that comes back has the higher pitch of a girl's. "We're on our way."

"While we wait for them to arrive, you two can change." A closet opens behind Roboto. Inside are an array of clothes for girls. Roboto had clearly been planning for this outcome.

He drops Midnight to the floor. She cries out as pain overwhelms her childish tolerances. She rubs her sore bottom until her "big sister" takes her hand. "Come on, sweetie, let's find you something pretty to wear."

***

Midnight yearns to pull the ribbons out of her hair. She'd like to take off this stupid plastic tiara too. And cram this plastic scepter up whatever passes for Roboto's ass. But she can't without tipping her hand.

She isn't sure what difference that would make since she's only a little girl now, even punier than when she was a teenager. There's no one who can save her either, not with the Super Squad incapacitated and Melvin missing and probably dead.

As for Dalton and her goons, they're of no use now. Dalton's "men" have become a gaggle of pubescent girls like their leader. They submitted to hypnosis just as readily too. They all wear cheerleading outfits, as does Dalton, which Midnight finds somewhat appropriate since they've become Roboto's cheerleaders now as he unfurls his scheme to take over the world.

Midnight adjusts her tutu, trying to get it into something like a comfortable position. Whatever Roboto has in mind, a part of Midnight wishes he'd get it over with and kill her already so she wouldn't have to endure this humiliation. The more disciplined part of her brain tells her to bide her time and look for an opening.

Humiliation is clearly what Roboto has on his mind as he has Dalton and her fellow cheerleaders rig up a television camera. Midnight is positioned on a tiny pink chair at one end of the camera's field of vision while the rest of the Super Squad is assembled beside her. Allison is free of her chains now, but from the way she sweats and wheezes, it's clear she isn't in any shape to fight. Starla's chains have been replaced by flimsy ribbon, the same type that holds Midnight's hair in pigtails. Starla strains at the ribbons, but now that she's an eighty-five-pound weakling she can't break them. Elise continues to swim in her bowl, more helpless than any of them.

Roboto finally takes his place in front of the camera with Dalton at his side and then motions for Dalton's minions to turn it on. "Greetings, people of Earth. You may already be familiar with me. For those who are not, I am Dr. Roboto. Soon I will be your new ruler.

"With me is my adorable assistant, the former Major Carrie Dalton." Dalton waves gleefully at the camera. Roboto continues, "And behind me are your greatest champions, the Super Squad. For those of you who are not familiar with them either, I will take a moment to acquaint you."

Roboto stands beside Elise's tank. "This is the Sea Hag. This outcast of the ocean repulses all sea life with her pitiful cries." Elise pounds on the glass and shouts at him, which Midnight supposes only fits with Roboto's description.

He moves down the line to Allison. He puts one hand to her protruding stomach. "This is Flabby Girl, the world's fastest eater." Allison's sweaty face reddens and her fists clench, but she does nothing. She's smart enough to know there's not much she can do like this.

Roboto puts his hand on Starla's shoulder. "I'm sure you all know Anorexic Girl, the puniest woman on Earth." Starla thrashes against the ribbons that hold her fast like two-ton chains.

"You won't get away with this!" Starla shouts in a voice even tinier than Midnight's.

"My dear, I already have gotten away with it. For as the world can see, there is nothing anyone can do to stop me. I have defeated your greatest warriors." Dalton bends down to scoop Midnight from her chair. She presses Midnight to her chest the way a real big sister would. Roboto pats her on her the head. "Even the fearsome Midnight Cutie has been bent to my will."

Tears spring to Midnight's eyes. It doesn't take much effort for her to shout pathetically, "I wanna go home!"

"If you so-called leaders do not believe this demonstration, I have another prepared for you. Soon you will see all of Tokyo reduced to my groveling minions like Miss Dalton and the 'Super' Squad. There is nothing you can do to stop me. Any who try to interfere will end up as these have. Enjoy your last day of freedom, for the time of Dr. Roboto is at hand!"

Roboto continues to laugh mechanically even after the camera cuts off. Dalton grins like an idiot and says, "That was great, Master."

"It's not going to work," Starla says. "The people of Earth aren't going to sit by and let you do this."

"I'm sure even now they are preparing a nuclear strike against this position," Roboto says. "It will not matter. Your foolish attack was only successful earlier because I allowed it to be so in order to draw you all here. Any further retaliation will fail."

"You can't hypnotize an entire planet," Allison says.

"I won't need to hypnotize them. You fools never understood the true purpose of the alien weapon. Its ability to turn males into females was only a side effect. Its real function is to quickly subdue an entire population by making them into weaklings. Surely you noticed what became of Miss Holloway the first time. Once the ray has done its work across the entire planet, the human race will be a bunch of puny cowards ripe for my dominion."

"That's impossible," Starla says. "It hasn't worked on us."

"It does not work the same on superhuman or _alien_ DNA," Roboto says. "But it seems to have done well enough to neutralize you three." Roboto pats Midnight on the head. "You can let her go play. We have work to do."

Dalton lets Midnight go. She gives Midnight a pat on the head like her boss. "Have fun, sweetie."

"I will," Midnight chirps. She prances around in her ballerina costume, waving her plastic wand around like a fairy princess. Once she's sure no one is watching her, she hurries over to Starla. The edges of the wand aren't very sharp and Midnight's muscles are nonexistent, but after a few minutes of work, she gets the ribbon to break away. Starla collapses to the floor with a groan. She struggles to get up until Allison finally hauls her up.

"We gotta find a way outta here," Midnight says.

"What about Elise?"

"We'll come back for her later."

"No—"

"Rob's right," Elise says. "Just leave me. Find a way to stop that son of a bitch."

"Let's go!" Midnight says. But by the time they can get across the room, Allison is winded and Starla has to prop herself against the wall to remain upright. Midnight's feet ache inside the impractical ballet slippers, but she's not about to give up.

She's on her tiptoes, about to hit the door release, when it opens on its own. Roboto stands there, red eyes blazing. "Where do you fools think you're going?"

"I had to go potty," Midnight says.

"That seems unlikely. I should have known mere hypnosis would not work on you." He yanks her into the air with one hand. He gives her a little toss so his hand can catch her by the neck. "Now you will pay."

"Leave her alone!" Starla shouts. She throws a punch, but all it does is make her cry out in pain. Midnight hears bones crack. Undeterred, Starla opens her mouth, but all that comes out is a tiny puff of white smoke.

Roboto grabs her by the neck. He hurls her across the room. Midnight is sure a few more bones crack as Starla lands hard. Her body twitches, but she's too weak to get back to her feet. "You monster!" Allison shouts. She charges forward, bumping Roboto with her gut like a sumo wrestler. His metal body weighs too much for that to do any good. He swats her across the face to bring her to her knees. She kneels there, wheezing and bathed with sweat.

"You fools can do nothing to stop me," Roboto says. "Now you will see the next phase of my plan unfold. Soon, Tokyo and then all of Japan will be mine."

Roboto's eyes light up for a moment as he sends the command to activate his machine. The room becomes bathed in light a moment later, but it's bright red instead of pink. Roboto's grip on Midnight's neck loosens as he flails around frantically. "No, this cannot be! Someone has tampered with the machine!"

Even as pain washes over Midnight, she smiles. Melvin did it. He did even more than she expected of him. He found a way not just to sabotage the machine, but also to reverse it. As she lies on the floor, Midnight feels the seams of her leotard tear open as her body grows. She hopes it will grow back into a man's body, but it soon becomes clear it's reverting back to that of a teenage girl.

Beside her, Allison's body thins into that of Velocity Gal again. Midnight isn't sure what's become of Starla and Elise until the former flies across the room to slam into Roboto. This time when Starla punches Roboto, her fist tears through his armor plating. She lifts him into the air with one hand and then slams him down onto the floor.

"Master!" Dalton shrieks from the doorway. She's an adult again, but still under Roboto's hypnosis apparently. Behind her are a group of young women in ill-fitting cheerleader uniforms. They turn to run, but Allison zips away to block their path. Dalton's troops drop onto the floor in cowering heaps.

Dalton drops beside her master, cradling his body in her arms. That is until Elise yanks Dalton to her feet by the hair. "Don't worry, you'll get to see plenty of him when you're both locked up in Gitmo," Elise growls.

Midnight picks up the remains of her pink leotard and tutu to try to cover her privates until she can locate her costume. She drops both of these when a teenager with light brown hair and a pair of thick glasses resting on pimpled cheeks stumbles past Allison and Dalton's minions. Tiny breasts are visible against a black T-shirt with the Batman logo. The girl's face goes red as she stares at Midnight. "Robin?"

"Melvin?" Midnight rushes forward to catch the girl before she faints.

### Epilogue

Elise stands in front of the door and takes a deep breath. She catches her reflection in a window and runs a hand over her top to smooth it down. She shakes her head and then tries to fluff the top out to fit looser over her midsection.

The intercom comes to life. "Can I help you?"

"Paul, it's Elise...Ellis. Remember me?"

"What do you want?"

"I want to talk for a couple of minutes. Please?"

There's a long pause, during which she's sure Paul has gone away, possibly to call the police. Then she hears the door buzz and yanks it open. She's winded by the time she manages to climb up to Paul's apartment.

He doesn't hug or kiss her or even shake her hand; he motions for her to come inside. "You want anything to drink?" he asks.

"Some water if it's not too much trouble."

He nods towards the living room. She sits demurely on the sofa with her hands on her stomach. Paul must notice the slight bulge of her midsection as he asks, "Are you—?"

"Three months," she says.

"Who is it?"

"His name is Erek. He's a sculptor." She holds up her left hand, which has a gold ring topped with a pearl on one finger. "We're getting married next month."

"That's great," he says.

"I'd have mailed you an invitation but it's in Pacifica."

"Oh, I see." He sits down on a chair to face her. He stares patiently at her, waiting for her to get to the point.

She gulps down most of the water before she says, "I wanted to ask if you would be my baby's godfather."

"Shouldn't it have a Pacifican godfather?"

"They don't really go in for that sort of thing. I want someone on land who could care for him or her if something happens to me and Erek."

"I saw what Roboto did to you on TV. That was pretty nasty stuff."

She nods and wipes at tears. "It was terrible." That's an understatement. She had been seconds away from dying when Roboto put her in that tank, like she was a circus freak. She had felt like a circus freak to see herself with a fish tail and scales. When Roboto referred to her as Sea Hag, he'd probably been on to something.

Elise had come close to death before, but never _that_ close. It had given her a new outlook on life. She didn't want to spend any more time waiting and playing games. The second she could get away, she swam back to Erek's workshop, where she found him chipping away at some coral.

"I'm sorry I've been gone so long," she said.

He ran a hand through her hair and said, "Your devotion to the surface dwellers is admirable." He pulled her close for an embrace, any problems forgotten. Soon they went back to his bedroom for some blissful make-up sex, during which Elise was certain she had gotten pregnant with Erek's child.

As they floated beside each other, she said, "We should get married."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes." She took his hand and smiled. "I made the mistake before of not having the courage to marry someone I loved. I'm not going to do it again."

He nodded and said, "I would be honored to marry you."

Elise relates some of this story to Paul. She finishes by saying, "I'm sorry I never had the guts to do right by you. We should have gotten married and to hell with what anyone in Pacifica or on the surface thought about it. Can you ever forgive me?"

At last Paul's resolve breaks down and he wraps her in a hug. "Of course I can. I should have been more understanding when this happened to you. Just because you were a woman didn't mean I should have kicked you out. Maybe we could have made it work."

"Probably not," she says. She puts a hand to his cheek. "You like men and you always will. So do I. It's just how things are. But can we at least be friends? Starla and Allison are nice, but there are some things I can't really talk to them about, you know? And Robin is still a jackass about most things. I really need someone up here I can talk to."

"Of course, sweetie. I've missed you. There are other guys, but it's not the same. They don't know me like you do."

"Erek is going to be gone all night looking for coral. You think I could stay here tonight? Or we could go to the atoll. I can call Manny to give you a ride."

"Here is fine," he says with a grin.

She pats his arm and then heaves herself up to her feet. So far her body isn't too sore, but in six months she'll be big as a house and probably one big ache. "You want to go down to Whole Foods and get some mushrooms? It's been a while since I made ragout for anyone."

"Sounds divine," he says. He takes her hand to help her down the stairs, already protective of his godchild.

***

Apex Girl lands on the hood of the getaway car. The driver foolishly tries to throw her off, as if she couldn't just land on it again. Since that didn't work, he sticks a gun out to shoot at her. She bats the gun away before he can get a shot off. "I'd suggest you pull over and stop the vehicle," she shouts at him.

"Fuck you, cunt!"

"You asked for it," she says. She brings both hands down on the hood to shatter the engine block. The engine goes dead. Starla hops off the car. She's tempted to let it coast along until it runs into something, but an innocent person might get hurt, so she scoops it up by the rear bumper to bring it to a stop.

By the time she drops the car onto the pavement, the driver is shaking with fear. She tears off the door and then rips him from the vehicle. "You shouldn't talk to a lady like that," she says before she hits him just hard enough to knock him out.

There's applause from some of the bystanders. Starla nods to them and then says, "Safe and courteous drivers are better drivers." Then she takes off into the air.

She's back in her office at the _Star_ a few seconds before Kate knocks on the door. "You been exercising in here?" she asks.

"What?"

"You're all flushed."

"Oh. Right. I was just doing some stretches," Starla says. She does a few in her chair for demonstrative purposes. "This chair gets to be a little uncomfortable after a while."

"Well, I hate to pile on, but here's my feature on the G20 summit. Larry wants it by three."

"No problem."

"Hey, I heard there's this new club opening on Longview. Thought maybe we could check it out."

"Actually I have plans tonight," Starla says.

"Really? Who's the lucky guy?"

Starla's face turns warm as she says, "Oh, it's not a date. Just going out with Billy and some of his friends. You could probably come with us—"

"No, that's all right," Kate says. "You guys have fun."

"Thanks." Starla should probably savor the look of disappointment on Kate's face as she's the one to be stood up, but Starla doesn't. There's a part of her that still loves Kate and probably always will, but she realized her biological father was right that it would never work between them.

This realization came after the fight with Roboto. After that brief time when she had been so weak and powerless, she had vowed not to feel that way again. Yet when she thought about it, she realized she'd felt that way often enough when around Kate. Kate had always been like gamma rays to Starla, crippling her and leaving her impotent. She couldn't go through that anymore.

Her first day back at the _Star_ , Kate hadn't been around. She was of course in Tokyo to report on the massive cleanup after Roboto's attack. Starla had been in her office, going over Kate's latest story, when Billy knocked on the door.

He had a bouquet of daffodils in one hand. "Hi, Miss Marsh. I heard you were back, so I thought I'd bring you something to cheer you up."

She took the flowers from him and smiled. "That's so thoughtful of you." She looked around her office, but there wasn't anything to use for a vase, so she just set them on the desk until she could find something. She gave him a hug, careful not to crack any of his ribs. "Thank you so much."

"I wanted to say too I'm sorry about the other night. So are the guys. We didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"Oh, no, you didn't. It was my fault. I've been getting out of a bad relationship."

"That's too bad. Say, Dave and Mike and I are going out to a movie tonight. You want to come along?"

"Sure," Starla said. It seemed the least she could do after Billy brought her such nice flowers.

The movie they went to was a superhero one. Starla cringed as the titles came up. She saw enough real-life superhero action that she didn't need to see it on the screen. But as the movie went on, she found herself starting to enjoy sitting in the dark with Billy and his friends, stuffing popcorn into her face. It was the most relaxed she'd felt in years.

They went out to a diner afterwards for coffee and pie. She listened to them dissect the movie with a connoisseur's eye. Billy finally asked her, "What did you think?"

She gulped down her bite of coconut crème pie to buy some time. Finally she smiled and said, "It was really fun."

"Well of course she'd like it," Mike said. "Girls don't know anything about superheroes."

She smiled broader at that. The conversation carried on with her adding a word or two here and there. Like the movie, it felt good just to be in the simple flow of things without having to worry about anything serious.

Before she knew it, she and Billy and his friends were going out almost nightly. Once they adjusted to the fact she was a girl, they became more comfortable around her. Soon enough she was one of the gang and to her surprise she liked it even more than being a part of the Super Squad.

At five o'clock she gets her coat and then hurries by Kate's desk, where Kate is working on the carjacking piece that will probably be in Starla's inbox soon. Starla doesn't say anything; she just slinks past to the elevator. Once the doors close, she breathes a sigh of relief.

Billy, Mike, and David are already in line at the theater. Billy's eyes widen at her. "Wow, that costume is amazing," he says.

She runs her hand over her Apex Girl uniform. "Thanks. I spent all night sewing it."

Billy and his friends are all dressed up in superhero costumes for the movie premiere tonight. So are most of the people in line. For once Starla doesn't feel out of place in her uniform. If anything, she feels underdressed.

She smiles to see a couple of little girls dressed up like her. She remembers what Robin said about Dalton's plan. Maybe that revolution is already happening on a small scale. Maybe in a generation or two there won't be any more men like Ty Lecau who see women as an object. That's something to hope for.

"Are you all right?" Billy asks.

"Just super," she says and they laugh at her bad joke. Then she goes into the theater with her new friends.

***

Allison rubs the bridge of her nose and then takes a sip of cold coffee. She should probably go out to get some fresh—if there's any fresh. She isn't sure if anyone else is still around at two in the morning. The janitor, she supposes, but he probably doesn't put on a pot of coffee for anyone working late.

She studies the blueprints of the weapon on the screen. In three months she hasn't made much progress in identifying where it came from. Not even Dr. Roboto had any idea about that. He had obtained it third- or fourth-hand from the black market.

Allison's not going to give up, though. Even if she has to spend the rest of her life on this project, she's going to find a way to reverse the effects. Not only so she can be a man again to reclaim her family, but so no one can pick up where the Feminazi, Major Dalton, and Dr. Roboto had left off. Never again will someone have to go through what she, her friends, Major Dalton's soldiers, and that innocent boy who'd come with Robin had endured. That's Allison's mission.

She's been so wrapped up in it that she hasn't put on her Velocity Gal costume in six weeks. It might seem callous, but she doesn't have time to deal with purse-snatchers and burglars right now. Nor does she have the time to run over to Paris to pound absinthe with Raul.

The thought of him makes her cheeks warm. She hasn't seen him since that night at the hotel, but she keeps thinking about it. She wonders what would have happened if he had continued until he came. Would she have come eventually? Would that have changed her? Would she like men now? As a scientist, she knows it isn't that easy, but then maybe her reluctance to be with a man was only psychological; if she got over that hurdle maybe it would be easier to be with someone else.

Someone knocks on the door. Allison gets up, figuring it must be the janitor to take out the trash or sweep the floor. "I'm fine," she says. "You can—"

She stops when she sees it's Sally at the door. Sally holds a glass dish covered in tinfoil. "I brought you some dinner. I know how you skip meals when you're busy."

Allison lifts the tinfoil to see it's tuna casserole. She's never much liked casserole, but it's the thought that counts. "Thank you. How did you get in here?"

"A security guard let me in. I think they're a little worried about you. The one called you Howard Hughes."

"I'm not peeing into mason jars or saving my fingernails," Allison says.

"Not yet."

They both laugh politely. Allison motions for Sally to step inside. "This place is really...small," Sally says.

"I know, but I'm getting used to it."

"Would you mind if I sit down? I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Go ahead."

Sally pulls up a stool. She looks down at the linoleum. "We never got a chance to talk about what that awful man—robot, whatever—did to you. When I saw you on the TV—"

Sally's voice trails off. Allison pats her hand. "It's all right. I'm fine now. I'm even thinner than I was before."

"It's just that I thought I would lose you...again. After I'd been such a bitch to you."

"No, Sally—"

"I was. I should have been glad you came back, even like this, but I was just so angry with you." She stops to wipe at her eyes. "It hurt so much when they said you were dead that when you came back I didn't want you to because I knew I could lose you again, forever this time. Does that make any sense?"

"Yes. And I'm sorry I came back. I shouldn't have done it. I should have stayed away from you both."

"No. We're your family. Always. Even if you're a girl or fat or whatever, you're always going to be my husband."

"Sally, we both know I can't be your husband. Not until I figure out a way to fix what happened."

"You don't have to fix anything. I love you, Allison. That's all that matters." To prove this, Sally leans forward to kiss Allison. It isn't a peck on the cheek like when Allison spent the night; it's a full-blown French kiss with Sally's tongue in Allison's throat. When Allison closes her eyes, it feels just the way she remembers, like on their wedding day.

"I think I'm ready to try _experimenting_ again," Sally whispers into her ear.

"You are?"

Sally answers this by sweeping some papers off Allison's desk. She helps Allison to lie down on it. They fumble with each other's zippers and buttons until they're finally naked. Allison's face warms as she says, "I don't really know what to do."

"It's all right. I can show you."

When Allison comes, the feeling is far more powerful than she ever imagined. The rush is almost like the night of the accident that turned her into Velocity Man. It's like there's electricity running through her entire body.

After the feeling ebbs, she and Sally lie on the floor of the lab in each other's arms. Sally brushes sweaty hair back from Allison's face. "You know, Jenny's been missing Aunt Ally."

"She has?" That doesn't seem likely from what Allison remembers.

"Yes. I think she'd be really happy if we told her Aunt Ally is moving in with us."

"You're serious?"

"Would I be here if I weren't?"

"Good point." Allison looks up at her computer, the diagrams of Roboto's weapon still on the screen. As much as she wants to move in with Sally and Jenny, she can't just abandon her work to spend time with them. "I have so much work, though."

"I'm sure we can work something out. I want to have you close again. Please?"

In the end, Allison can't resist. This is exactly what she's wanted since she first woke up as a woman. "You know I can't say no to you."

"Great. Now, I think we'd better get dressed before that janitor comes in here." They laugh and then start to round up their clothes. Once they're finished, Sally gives Allison a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you at home."

"I'll be there."

***

Robin brushes aside a tress of hair and frowns in the mirror. "I hate it," she says.

"You look like a very pretty young woman," Jasper says.

"That's the problem."

"Now, Mistress, you know what the therapist says."

"I know. I shouldn't act all butch. Accept my new self, blah blah blah."

Jasper checks his watch. "Your date should be here any minute."

"God, don't call it that. We're just going together—as friends."

"Yes, of course. As friends."

Robin frowns into the mirror again. She hasn't looked so girly since Dr. Roboto dressed her up as "Midnight Cutie." The light green dress with all its frills and pleats makes her want to barf. The nylons are even worse. And these goddamned heels; whoever invented those had to be a sadistic man.

She's about to get up when Jasper stops her. He has a flat black velvet box. When he opens it, Robin puts a hand to her mouth in shock. "I can't wear that," she says.

"I think your mother would want you to wear them on a night like this."

"Jasper, please. I don't want to."

"Come now, Mistress Robin, just try it on."

"Fine, but only for a second. Then you can put it back in the vault."

"Of course."

Her hair is already pinned up, so it's easy enough for him to slip the silver necklace on her. The leaf-shaped emeralds along the necklace wink at her in the light. Robin remembers when she was a little boy and had watched Dad give Mom this necklace for Valentine's Day. "For the most beautiful woman in the world," he said and then kissed her, which had made Robin turn away.

"It is quite fetching if I must say," Jasper says.

She touches the necklace with one hand. A tear leaks from her right eye. More threaten to come out and ruin her mascara and eyeliner before she even gets to the door. Mom had worn this necklace every day—except the one she died. Then it had been at the jeweler's to have the clasp repaired after Robin had torn it when latching onto his mother's neck. Though it was stupid, Robin had blamed the necklace—and herself—for their deaths that night. Robin had kept it locked up in the vault since Mom's death, not having the heart to get rid of something so beautiful.

"I'll take it off," Jasper says.

"No," she whispers. "I...I think you're right. I think Mom would want me to have it."

She dabs at her eye with a tissue and then stands up. "I'd better get downstairs."

She's on the last step when there's a knock on the door. Robin brushes a hand along the dress while Jasper hurries past to get the door. She waits on the bottom step for him to usher Robin's "date" inside.

Melanie Amis shuffles into the foyer, her head looking down. She wears a pale yellow dress that's just as frilly as Robin's. She hasn't mastered heels yet, so she wears flats, which will at least help to even out the height difference between them. Like Robin's, her brown hair is pinned back with one tendril framing the right side of her face.

"Hi," Melanie says.

"You're looking very fetching tonight, Miss Amis."

"Thanks."

When Melanie looks up, Robin sees she ditched the glasses, at least for tonight. "You got contacts?" Robin asks as she walks across the foyer.

"Mom says they bring out my 'natural beauty,'" Melanie says. A little of her old spirit returns when she says, "I wanted to get some red ones or maybe yellow ones."

"That would have been awesome."

"If you girls wouldn't mind, I'd just like to get a picture," Jasper says.

Robin squeezes in tight against Melanie. They both smile slightly before Jasper pushes the button. He takes a half-dozen shots, not understanding the mechanics of a digital camera. "You girls have a nice time," he says. "Remember, your curfew is midnight."

"I know," Robin says.

"And no monkey business."

"I'm sure we don't have to worry about uncovering criminal conspiracies at the prom."

"That may be so, but I know you."

"We aren't going to get in any trouble. We're going to go, drink some stupid punch, listen to some crappy music, and come home, all right?"

"That a girl."

She leans up to kiss him on the cheek. Then she takes Melanie's hand to lead her outside, to where the limo is waiting. They could have had Jasper drive, but Melanie's mother insisted on using their car. She's gotten much more protective of her son since he became her daughter.

Once they're on their way, Robin pats Melanie's knee. "You look nice."

"Thanks. So do you. That necklace is really pretty."

"It belonged to my mom."

"Oh."

Robin sighs and turns to the window. Since Melvin became Melanie, she's become so shy. It is a big change, as Robin knows all too well, but it shouldn't have changed her personality that much. Sometimes Robin wonders if she should ask Allison to run some tests to check for some abnormality. Maybe Roboto's ray had done something to her mind the way it had Major Dalton, turning her into a simpering coward.

But Robin suspects it's just plain old psychological trauma. She wouldn't think it would be this hard for Melanie since she wasn't a jock or anything like that. How big of a difference was it to be a female geek instead of a male one?

She turns back to Melanie and says, "I'm glad you decided to come. I'd hate to do this by myself."

Her new therapist, Dr. Kitty Hanover, had suggested Robin go to the senior prom to aid her "transition." As if wearing this stupid five hundred dollar dress and these ludicrous heels and Mom's necklace would have her baking cookies and entering beauty pageants or whatever she and Jasper thought Robin should be doing with her life.

Even if Dr. Hanover hadn't suggested it, Robin would have asked Melanie to come. For one thing only losers showed up alone and who else could Robin ask? She doesn't have any other friends at Swearingen. There was that three hundred pound kid with the harelip who had asked her out. At the moment Harelip might be more scintillating conversation.

When the limo stops at the curb by the hotel hosting the prom, Melanie remains frozen in place. "We're here," Robin says. "Come on."

"I don't want to go," Melanie whispers. "They'll all make fun of me."

"No one will make fun of you."

"They all think I'm a freak."

"They thought that before you became a girl."

"That's not funny."

Robin leans forward to brush the stray lock of hair behind Melanie's ear. "Mel, I know it's hard. It hasn't been a cakewalk for me either—"

"But no one _knows_ you used to be a boy. They all know who I used to be."

"Listen to me, Mel. You don't have to take any shit from those trust fund brats in there. You're a hero. You saved all their lives. You saved my life. Hell, you saved the Super Squad! If it weren't for you, Roboto would have turned all of them into sissies who'd be doing his bidding. So stop feeling sorry for yourself and walk in there with your head up.

"Maybe those jerks think you're a freak, but so what? I know you're smart and brave and sweet—" She stops as her lips touch Melanie's. She's never wondered what it's like to kiss a girl as a girl, but it doesn't seem any different than she remembers. The only difference is this is Melanie, her best friend. Her only friend. She pulls back. "I'm sorry."

Melanie's eyes are wide. She blinks a few times and then whispers, "That was awesome."

"You think so?"

"Can we try it again?"

It's twenty minutes of kissing and pawing later when they finally go into the hotel's ballroom for the prom. They walk in arm-in-arm to display their confidence. Heads turn in their direction. Melanie stiffens as there are a few snickers, but Robin keeps her from running away. "It's all right. I've got you."

They go over to the bar for a couple of Shirley Temples. Robin would love a real drink, but this is a high school event so all the booze is put away. She and Melanie squeeze into a corner to sip from their cups.

The bad girl who harassed Robin the day she and Melvin met stomps up to them with her entourage in tow. They're dressed in everyday clothes as their way to protest against the establishment or whatever. The bad girl sneers at Robin. "Brought your _girlfriend_ , huh?"

"So did you."

"You think you're funny, pipsqueak?" the girl shoves Robin back into the wall. "You and the freak should go to one of those lesbian bars to hang out with the rest of the queers."

"Leave us alone," Melanie says quietly.

"Or what? You'll cry like a little bitch and have your girlfriend save you?"

"No." Melanie does a textbook leg sweep to knock the girl off her feet. This is followed by a kick to the girl's midsection. "I'll save myself."

The girl's entourage glares at Melanie. Robin takes a step forward. "You girls want to throw down, we're ready. Or you can take Princess here and get lost."

The girls study Robin and Melanie for a moment. Then they grab their leader by the armpits to haul her away. Robin's sure they'll plot revenge for on Monday, but for now she and Melanie have won.

Robin pats Melanie on the shoulder. "That was great. You're a quick learner."

"Thanks."

Perhaps for the sake of irony, the DJ plays "Endless Love," which Robin remembers from her first senior prom. Back then she had danced with Stacey Chang, who had been the only non-white girl who wasn't serving drinks. During the dance Robin had copped a feel of Stacey's ass, which had prompted her to slap Robin.

"How are your dance moves?" she asks Melanie.

"Um—"

"Come on, it's not much different than fighting. Only no one gets hurt." She takes Melanie's hand and drags her out onto the dance floor. "Just lean up against me and take it nice and slow."

Robin keeps her hand on Melanie's back as they glide along the dance floor. Melanie rests her head on Robin's shoulder. Robin can hear her friend crying softly. "What's wrong? If it's about that girl—"

"No. I've...I've been wanting to do this with you for months. Since you saved me from Barf. After what happened...I didn't think I'd ever get to."

"Well you were wrong, weren't you?"

Melanie looks up at her with tears in her eyes. "I love you."

Robin comes to a stop on the dance floor. Her mouth opens but no sound will come out. She hasn't said the L-word to anyone since Christy Connor was butchered. She hadn't let herself get involved with anyone since then, to protect herself—and them. But as Jasper would be quick to point out, she's not Midnight Spectre anymore. She's just Robin Holloway, a scrawny little high school senior with a C- average.

"I...I love you too," she whispers.

"You mean it?"

"Would I have tongued you in the limo if I didn't?" she says, trying to put some of her old sarcasm into the words. They stagger off the dance floor, back to their corner as the song winds down.

"I didn't mean to ruin the moment."

"No, you didn't ruin anything."

"I wanted to say it in the hospital, but Mom was always around or a nurse and then I wasn't sure how you felt about me and by the time I got back to school it was easier not to say it, you know?"

"I know."

"Are you mad?"

"What? No. I'm just...surprised. The way you've been acting since the change, I didn't really expect it."

"Well, I wouldn't have tongued you in the limo if I didn't, would I?"

"Smart ass," Robin says with a smile. She takes Melanie's hand. "Come on, Jasper's not expecting us until midnight. Let's ditch these losers and have some fun."

They're back in the limo making out when Robin's phone rings. From the ringtone, she knows it's Jasper. "It'll go to voicemail," she whispers to Melanie.

It doesn't, which means he must be using the phone in the bunker. That can only mean it's an emergency. "Hold on," she says, leaving Melanie with her lips puckered in mid-kiss. She takes the phone out of her purse. "What's up?"

"Colonel Storm just called."

"Storm? I thought he retired."

"It appears he's been reactivated since Major Dalton's arrest."

"Oh. What does he want?"

"He wouldn't give specifics, but he indicated there's a grave threat to national security."

"So? Have him call Starla or Allison. That's what they're on the payroll for."

"He already has. He indicated he would like you to sit in on the briefing. Only as a consultant, of course."

Robin looks over at Melanie, who's wearing a concerned look. The last time Robin stuck her nose in a grave threat to national security Melvin ended up as Melanie. Robin promised herself after that she would retire Midnight Spectre. Still, if it's only as a consultant—

Melanie snatches the phone from her. "We'll be right there," she says and then pushes the off button.

"You heard that?"

"I got the gist."

"Look, Mel, you can't be part of this. Not after what happened—"

"No, Rob, you're right: I'm a hero. We're heroes. We saved the Super Squad. We saved the whole world. We can't quit now when the world needs us."

"They only asked for me. You can stay home, where it's safe."

"The hell with that. We're a team: Midnight Spectre and the Outcast, remember?"

Robin considers this for a moment. The pleading in Melanie's eyes is finally too much for her. "Let's do it."

# Also By P.T. Dilloway:

Dark Origins (Tales of the Scarlet Knight, Volume 0): A prequel to the Tales of the Scarlet Knight series, Dark Origins tells how Merlin appears in ancient Britain to find a warrior to do battle with an evil goddess who seeks to rule the world.

A Hero's Journey (Tales of the Scarlet Knight, Volume 1): Dr. Emma Earl never wanted to be a hero. But when she finds a magic suit of armor that can deflect bullets and turn her invisible, she becomes part of an ancient war between good and evil. It's up to Emma as the latest incarnation of the heroic Scarlet Knight to save Rampart City from the fiendish Black Dragoon and his plan to rule first the city and then the whole world.

Time Enough to Say Goodbye (Tales of the Scarlet Knight, Volume 2): Eighteen months ago Dr. Emma Earl took up the mantle of the Scarlet Knight and saved the world. Now comes an even deadlier threat in the form of a young woman with the power to alter time and her mysterious partner known as the Watchmaker. In order to prevent them from unleashing hell on Earth, Emma will have to sacrifice the people she cares about the most.

The Hazards of Love (Tales of the Scarlet Knight, Volume 3): For five years Dr. Emma Earl has regretted the night she sent Dan Dreyfus away. Now Dan finally returns...with a wife named Isis! It soon becomes apparent Isis isn't who she claims to be and has her sights set on conquering the world!

Change of Heart (Tales of the Scarlet Knight, Volume 4): When magic causes Emma to switch bodies with her best friend Becky, they get a chance to walk a mile in each other's shoes. But that could prove deadly to both of them as a new threat arrives in Rampart City, one perhaps too powerful for even the Scarlet Knight!

Betrayal Begets Blood (Tales of the Scarlet Knight, Volume 5): After the Scarlet Knight's ally the Sewer Rat is nearly killed by a bomb, it begins a wave of terror that grips all of Rampart City. But who's behind the attacks? And what is their ultimate plan?

Future Shock (Tales of the Scarlet Knight, Volume 6): A magic spell sends Emma twenty years into the future, where she meets her daughter Louise. As a terrible evil returns to Rampart City bent on revenge, Louise has to take up the mantle of the Scarlet Knight to save her mother and the rest of the world.

Living Sacrifice (Tales of the Scarlet Knight, Volume 7): For two years Emma Earl thought her daughter was dead. Then a woman comes to her with news that Louise Earl is still alive! Emma must travel then to Russia to confront Louise's kidnapper and rescue her daughter. But as Emma soon learns, this is only part of a fiendish plot to destroy the world.

The Heart of Emma Earl (Tales of the Scarlet Knight, Volume 8): In the epic conclusion to the Tales of the Scarlet Knight series, Rampart City has gone missing--as has the Scarlet Knight. No one seems to remember either has ever existed, except for Tim Cooper. Now Tim has to venture into a parallel universe to find Emma Earl, the only one who can prevent darkness from swallowing the entire world.

Chance of a Lifetime (Chances Are #1): When Detective Steve Fischer investigates a robbery, he's murdered by a gangster and injected with an experimental drug known as FY-1978. Thanks to the drug, Steve comes back—as a woman. Now Stacey Chance has to find those responsible and make them pay.

Second Chance (Chances Are #2): When Stacey Chance and her friend Madison are kidnapped by a Chinese scientist, they're given a dose of an experimental drug, one that causes them to revert back to children. As they search for a cure, Stacey and Madison get a second chance at childhood.

Last Chance (Chances Are #3): Five years after she first became a young woman thanks to an experimental drug, Stacey Chance has come to enjoy her new life. That life gets even better when the man she loves pops the question. But when that experimental drug starts to wear off and an old enemy from Detective Steve Fischer's past resurfaces, Stacey's wonderful new life is thrown into chaos.

