Not Your Sidekick

by C. B. Lee

  “Your house? Look, unless you have a ton of blocking software and scramblers all around your information, they’ll be able to find us—”

  “We do. My parents are—”

  “Oh my God, you totally told me earlier. It just hasn’t sunk in yet. I bet your family does have all that and more. I mean, Shockwave and Smasher are kind of the named protectors of Andover.”

  The town looks small from here, and the red canyons loom in the distance. Jess has no idea how long they were at Orion’s home, but it’s midday already; the sun is blazing hot all around them. They keep high in the sky until they approach Jess’ home. She hopes everyone is focusing on their Saturday and no one will notice them dropping down from the sky. The descent is quick; Jess points them toward her house, and in a dizzying rush they’re near the ground; Abby halts them and then gently sets them down.

  “Come on, let’s get inside.” Jess waves her DED at the front door and it clicks open immediately. No one is home. Right, it’s Brendan’s science fair today. Jess exhales in relief; she’s not sure she’d be ready to explain all of this. “Come on.” She gestures for Abby to follow her in, and leads her upstairs. Abby peers into the open office door, at the posters of Smasher and Shockwave, and promptly starts chuckling.

  “What’s so funny? Is it because it’s weird that, like our parents are fated enemies—”

  “Please. This so not a Romeo and Juliet situation,” Abby says. “Does this make you Romeo since you went after me? Am I Juliet? What was our balcony scene? I’m still … This is too much. I mean, I thought that your family could have some expression of the meta-gene, like maybe your grandparents, and then probably just in your line, but this is great. I haven’t thought about it that much since today’s been a ridiculous chaos of Orion and everything, but this is just—our parents. It’s hilarious. I love it.”

  “Way to lighten the mood.”

  Abby laughs, but there’s a bit of a desperate edge to it. She flops on Jess’ bed; her body shakes as the laughter dies. “I’m not sure it worked entirely.”

  Jess sits. “Yeah.”

  There’s nothing but the sound of their breathing, Abby’s rhythmic breaths and Jess’ slower, labored huffs through the pain. Abby laces their fingers together.

  Jess sighs, closing her eyes. She leans back and meets not her pillow, but the curves of Abby’s body. Arms wrap around her and Jess forgets about the current crisis, how much her chest hurts, the worry over what they’re going to do next.

  Here is safe.

  Soft lips press against her temple, and Jess can’t help but smile. She turns around and buries her face in Abby’s neck, breathing her in.

  “Jess, your neck,” Abby says, wide-eyed.

  “What?” Jess blinks wearily.

  Abby gingerly touches her throat; it stings a little, probably leftover pain from Orion’s lightning zap. “The lightning… I was wearing the suit but you… you’ve got a scar,” she says. Somehow the word scar sounds full of awe. “Does it hurt?”

  “Not anymore.”

  Abby runs a finger down the hollow of her throat, grazes her collarbone and skirts the neck of Jess’ t-shirt.

  Jess forgets to breathe. She lays still, hyper-aware of the way their bodies fit together, and of how Abby’s pupils are blown so wide there’s barely a trace of blue around the iris. Abby’s just watching her, with a pleased, soft smile, fingers brushing against her skin, as if she’d be content to just do this forever.

  “It’s beautiful,” Abby whispers. “Like you.”

  Jess kisses her.

  It’s as easy as breathing. Slow and appreciative, and this time Jess can take the time to notice little things, like the way Abby’s body tucks around hers, the firmness of the thigh casually thrown over Jess’ legs, how Abby has to tilt her head down a little to reach Jess’ lips. Jess runs her hand down Abby’s back, traces the curve of her spine, and delights in the way Abby exhales and trembles under her touch.

  Jess can feel Abby smiling into the kiss, and she has to pull back to see. Abby’s eyes are still closed, her lips are raw and shiny, and a smile is just starting at the corners of her mouth. A pink flush stands out on her cheeks. She opens her eyes, and they look at each other before grinning at each other, and Jess leans forward so their foreheads touch.

  Abby traces the edges of her collarbone again and drops a light kiss there.

  An image springs to Jess’ mind from their writing assignment, Abby’s looping handwriting describing bare skin and—

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” Jess says, heart racing. She thinks she—she’s not sure, actually.

  “You made a noise.”

  “Was it a good noise?”

  Abby kisses her forehead and sits up. “Yes.” She takes Jess by the shoulders and guides her to turn to the mirror. “Here, you should check it out; it turned out really cool.”

  Jess’ reflection stares back at her, and for a second she doesn’t recognize the pretty girl on her bedspread sitting with her crush—girlfriend? Abby nudges her, beaming.

  It’s strange, how Jess realizes she looks very much the same; she just feels different. Her hair is the same, albeit mussed. Strands are sticking out everywhere, and usually that would bother her, but she blushes, thinking of how it got that way.

  Standing out from her dark brown skin is a network of pale scars, stretching out from under her shirt in a fractal pattern, like the outline of a wandering river or the infinite, inestimable beauty of tree branches reaching for the sky.

  It still hurts, but the pain has receded now to a light, residual throbbing.

  “You should probably put burn cream on it,” Abby says. “Do you have some?”

  “Yeah, there’s a first aid kit Brendan uses all the time,” Jess says. She swallows, wondering if Abby is asking to help, and she flushes, thinking about Abby’s hands on her skin.

  Abby smiles and squeezes her shoulders. “Go on, I’ll be here.”

  Jess gives her a wry smile and gets to her feet, ambles to the bathroom, shucks off her shirt. The burn cream is a cool relief on her skin, and she traces the outline of the scar. It starts a few inches below her left collarbone and spirals out, wrapping around her neck and creeping down her breast and petering out by her belly button. It is strange, but she can see why Abby thought it was beautiful.

  Inside the bathroom cupboard is the makeup Jess uses from time to time. Her fingers linger on a bottle of foundation.

  She closes the cupboard and puts her shirt back on, eyeing the way the scar protrudes from under it.

  It’s a souvenir. I survived.

  Back in her bedroom, Abby is lying on her bed with a comic book open in front of her. It’s a vintage print copy of Magnus, Robot Fighter. She traces the hard plastic of the laminated page, holding up the terrifying illustration of the rogue robots.

  “It’s funny how people used to picture the future,” Jess says, hoping to lighten the mood. “Then again, maybe robots will look like this in the year… four thousand.” She closes the comic book and sets it back on her shelf.

  Abby gives her a glum smile. “Captain Orion said she and the government kidnapped my parents because they wouldn’t make soldier-bots for them.”

  “They were looking for codes to do something to all the robots. Do you know what it was for?”

  “My dad designed this project a while ago, like a home security program, but then he found so many flaws. Like, the MonRobot could be programmed to recognize certain people, but the cost of developing the A.I. to recognize who was an enemy, who wasn’t… it wasn’t worth it. So he discontinued it. But there was a line of MonRobots that went out, the most current one, that have the capability for this defense-type program. But I think the government wants to use it, use the information. If there’s a person they don’t like or want to take down, and there’s a MonRobot i
n the home, then…”

  “There’d be a homicidal robot whose A.I. could be controlled remotely by the government? That’s awful.”

  “Yeah, you can see why my parents didn’t want this code going live,” Abby says. “We just need to find out where they’re keeping them. And it’s not at Orion’s Andover home. Unfortunately I still have no clue.”

  Jess nods. “That really sucks.”

  Abby’s eyes light up. “Wait! This totally makes sense. You can use your power to find them!”

  “My power? I don’t have any meta-abilities, Abby.”

  “No, no, you do, and hearing about who your parents are just confirms my suspicions. I mean I thought you did, like, you’re just not aware of it. And it’s not a power that the Training Academy looks for—I mean, it’s almost—”

  “What is it that you think I have?”

  “Okay, where was I born?” Abby asks.

  “How would I know that? I don’t know that. You haven’t told me where.”

  “I know! But do you have a feeling? If I asked you to walk toward where I was born, what direction would you go?”

  “I don’t know!’ Jess says, stepping to the side.

  Abby yelps. “Okay, okay, I knew it!”

  “Knew what?”

  “Look, you subconsciously knew that direction was where you needed to go! I think your power has to do with direction, Jess, really.”

  “Direction? I’ve never heard of it.”

  “New powers are discovered all the time,” Abby says. “I was born in Old Bright City, which just happens to be east of here. And you were walking east. Okay, now where is Captain Orion right now? Just point.”

  Jess points west. “That doesn’t mean anything. We just came from there.”

  “No, it could be that she moved. Look, I really believe you are a meta-human. Like, think back. Haven’t you ever noticed you’ve gone in the right direction without knowing why? Like you know where everything is, but you don’t necessarily know that you know, you have to think about it.”

  “This is ridiculous! I don’t have powers! I’ve tested for all of them!”

  “The ones that you knew about, sure,” Abby says. “So you can’t fly and you don’t have superstrength. But you have this amazing ability, Jess.”

  “Sure, say I have this direction power or whatever. It’s still entirely useless. I wouldn’t even be like, D-class. I would be an F. This power isn’t even on the Registrar’s list. It’s useless. I can’t fight anyone with this power.”

  “No, but you can find people.”

  Jess takes a sharp breath in, realizing what she means. “Okay, let’s say you’re right and I do have this ability for… direction, or whatever. Like I can’t just say your parents are…” She closes her eyes, and then…

  Jess knows. As soon as she asked the question, she knew what direction to go. It’s not an address, but she knows. “Southeast.”

  Abby seizes her in a hug.

  Ch.12...

  They spend about an hour in Jess’ garage retrofitting a bunch of old electronics to build Abby another suit.

  Abby just—creates. Abby’s powers seem limitless, and she manipulates every piece of electronics with a single thought; they travel in the air following her own design. It’s captivating and powerful, in a much different way than Jess has seen any other meta-human powers—everyone she’s seen before has used their abilities to fight each other, to destroy. This is creation. Invention.

  Jess runs around the house, grabbing whatever spare electronics she can find. Her desktop projector and her parent’s spare computers all disappear in a flurry. The bulk of the new mecha-suit is built from the minivan, with its ample computer and navigation technology. The stove is in pieces; Jess will have to explain to her parents later that it was an emergency.

  Abby is almost finished, but there remains a complicated bit. It’s found only in certain advanced tech, and she’s already taken apart the minivan. “I know just the thing,” Jess says.

  She finds Chả at its docking station and picks it up with a fond pat. “Hey, little guy,” she says.

  Chả cheeps, little engine whirring, ready to vacuum.

  “Not so much,” Jess murmurs, carrying him to Abby.

  “Oh no, I couldn’t,” Abby says, shaking her head. “It’s your pet! It has a name.”

  Chả cheeps at Abby, rolls over to her, and bumps her on the foot in greeting.

  “It’s Monroe tech. Best of its kind. Chả, what do you think? Do you wanna help Abby out?”

  Chả cheeps and spins about in a circle.

  Abby takes a deep breath and holds her hands out. Chả’s silver casing flies apart, revealing the circuitry underneath, and one slim shining piece flies into her hand. She holds the data chip aloft. “This is Chả’s A.I.,” Abby says solemnly. “We’re gonna keep this safe, and when this is all over I’m gonna rebuild it for you.”

  The MonRobot becomes the chest piece and the main circuitry, and the new mecha-suit is complete. Abby’s new suit should look ridiculous. It’s the bare bones, just armor covering the body and thrusters so she can fly. It looks pretty amazing on Abby. Her dad’s suit fit her awkwardly, and Abby moved hesitantly in it, but now she stands tall, waiting for Jess’ approval. This suit doesn’t have a logo, and it also doesn’t have a helmet or an electronic panel covering Abby’s face. Abby stands proud, her hair flying free.

  “You look like a hero,” Jess says.

  Abby snorts. “Not so sure about that word anymore, but thank you. Let’s go.”

  With some effort and the assistance of the suit, Abby carries her into the sky, and Jess points the way. Jess stands on Abby’s feet as she flies, and Abby hooks an arm around her waist, holding her close.

  Jess revels in the wind in her hair, the way the air rushes past her cheeks, sharp and biting, and Abby holding her securely as they travel, listening to her directions.

  Jess remembers the last time she flew with Claudia. Jess was nine or ten, pointing out a path through the canyons where there wouldn’t be so much headwind, and Claudia had told her to be quiet and let her fly. Even then, when they were closer, Claudia treated her as little more than a sidekick. Abby saw her as an equal, even when she thought Jess didn’t have powers.

  They head out into the desert and fly over the park past all of Jess’ favorite trails, past the canyons. The view is lovely, but Jess concentrates on the feeling that keeps taking them toward their destination. The wind whistles against her hooded sweatshirt but, lost in her thoughts, she doesn’t register how cold it is.

  Could she really have a power? It makes sense: all those times she’s known where things were but chalked it up to luck or chance; the times she’s found herself moving to get in a line that then moves faster, or even told Bells where things were on sale.

  All this time she’s been using her power, but not in any useful way.

  She’s being useful now.

  They fly toward a desolate area with fences and signs that read, “DANGER: DO NOT ENTER. CLASS FIVE UNMAINTAINED ZONE. RADIATION HAZARD” everywhere. Jess knows of this area. She thought it was a government testing area for hazardous waste or chemicals.

  Now she knows what’s really here. It’s where they’re holding Abby’s parents, and maybe all the other villains they’re holding hostage.

  “They’re gonna see us coming from a mile away,” Abby says with a frown. “I can’t land here.”

  Jess has to agree. Even if the only flying people they expect are Captain Orion and other heroes, they’d be watching the sky. They need a disguise. They need—

  Chameleon.

  They fly back to Jess’ house, and Abby disassembles her suit, taking the time to perfect it while Jess paces.

  “There’s another hero, a young person. I don’t think they’re in league with Orion—they proba
bly just finished Meta-Human Training, I’m not sure what they look like but they can shift and make themselves look like anyone! And I’ve seen them like touch something and change the appearance of that too—I don’t think it’s permanent, but it could be incredibly useful.”

  “Why would they help us?” Abby asks. “If they’re in the League, what if Orion’s brainwashed them already?”

  “We won’t know until we try. Orion kidnapped your parents. I’m sure we can figure it out.”

  “What about your parents?”

  Jess sighs. “I don’t know. I think they’ve been stuck in the mindset that your parents are their rivals for so long that it might take a lot longer to convince them.” She takes a deep breath. “Maybe my sister. We used to be close. But I don’t know where she might be.”

  Abby nods, stands up, and all the pieces of the suit fly around and fit her again. “All right let’s start with the first idea. Where’s Chameleon?”

  Jess points east.

  She’s expecting to go a long distance, but they only fly a few blocks when Jess’ instincts tell them to stop. Abby sets them down in front of a familiar-looking house.

  “No way,” Jess says, staring up at Bells’ home.

  Abby rings the doorbell. “Chameleon is inside?”

  “I guess?” Jess says, trying to put the pieces together. They don’t know much about Chameleon except that they’re young, and Bells has been incredibly busy lately. It does make a ridiculous amount of sense, now that she thinks about it.

  Bells answers the doorbell, his hair in a brilliant green mohawk today, wearing a new jacket he had his eye on in the mall last week but that was supposedly too expensive to buy.

  “Hey, Bells,” Jess says. “Um… do you have superpowers?”

  “Me? No, why would you ask that? I totally don’t.” Bells shuffles back, his eyes darting between Jess and Abby. His eyes widen at the makeshift mecha-suit, and he lifts his eyebrows at Jess, as if to silently ask, What is all this about?

  “Well, that’s too bad,” Abby says. She lifts a few inches off the ground and holds her hands up. The porch light flickers and then goes out. The entire glass and metal structure detaches itself from the wall, floats in the air, and all of it, metal, glass, wires, reconfigures to become a blooming rose in Abby’s hand, a work of electronic art, floating in her palm. Abby smiles. “Jess totally thought you might be Chameleon, or well, that Chameleon is here. We could use some help.”