by James Maxey
“You’re just going to let him go?” asked Jenny.
“What would I do if I caught him?” asked Nimble. “What can he say that’s going to put this right? And, maybe he’s not entirely wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t worry so much about who I used to be, or the life I might have had. I help save the world today. Maybe I’m lucky to have been at the Butterfly House.”
“That’s Stockholm Syndrome,” I said. “Real memories have to be better than fake ones, right?”
“I might argue with that,” said Chem Queen. “I got my real memories back. Turns out my folks were drug pushers who used to keep me doped up so I’d stay out of their hair. They died in a shootout with cops. All the drugs in my system combined with the trauma of seeing them killed triggered my powers. It’s not like my fake memories were rosy, but, Jesus. No wonder I’m twisted.”
“How did you get your memories back?” I asked.
“Oh, right,” said Chem Queen. “Drugs.” She tossed some small white crystals onto the table, where they caught the light like diamonds. “Take one of these and you’ll remember everything.”
“Are they safe?” asked Atomahawk, picking up a pill.
“What am I, the FDA?” asked Chem Queen. “All I can promise is that they work.”
“I can verify that,” said Jenny. “I took one the second she offered it to me.”
“You did?” asked Harry. “But… you already remembered—”
“Stuff,” said Jenny. “Mixed up, messed up, jumbled up stuff. I wanted the pill to help sort everything out. I wanted to be able to trust my memories, no matter what the truth might be.”
“Did it work?” asked Harry.
“Yeah,” said Jenny. “Pretty much instantly. The made up memories implanted by the Butterfly House and the Victorian are still there, but they feel like movies I’ve seen, not lives I’ve lived through. The downside is that the trauma I went through with my father is clearer than ever. Sometimes… sometimes I would question if it even happened. My parents told me I was lying so often I honestly doubted myself. No more. The truth is harsh, but it’s better than doubting my sanity. I’ve no regrets. But, the rest of you… think about this. What’s right for me might not be right for you.”
“You do you,” said Harry.
“That is the most annoying pop culture phrase of my lifetime,” said Prodigy, picking up one of the crystals. “How is it possible I’ve been brainwashed? I have perfect memory. It’s my power!”
“You also have an AI strapped to your body wired directly into your nervous system,” I said. “Maybe it’s been programmed to suppress your memories.”
“That’s absurd.”
“No. The AI took over your body and talked to me while we were on the alien ship.”
“I would remember that,” said Prodigy.
“Unless Brain Boy doesn’t let you remember it,” I said.
“Maybe you don’t need a pill so much as an electrician,” said Chem Queen.
“Would someone explain why we haven’t put this known supervillain back into her cell yet?” asked Prodigy.
“That’s a good question,” said Smash Lass. “She’s wanted for a string of bank robberies.”
“Robberies I committed because I’d been brainwashed,” said Chem Queen. “Man, my lawyer’s going to have a field day with this.”
“Unless the government declares everything top secret and puts a gag order on your trial,” I said. “Assuming you make it to trial. There’s a track record of people who tell the truth about the Butterfly House not surviving into old age.”
“Paranoid much?” asked Prodigy.
“Chem Queen deserves a second chance,” said Jenny. “I can use the skills I’ve learned in the Silent Shadows to give her a new identity. If she promises to give up crime, I say we let her go.”
“I’m not sure this is something we’re allowed to vote on,” said Smash Lass.
“I can verify that it’s not,” said Prodigy.
“You gave me a break after I flattened half of Wall Street,” said Harry.
“Yeah, and Elsa’s dead because I let you go.” Smash Lass crossed her arms over her chest. “But she did fight by our side today, so that counts for something, I guess. You agree to this Chem Queen?”
“Whatever,” she said.
“So what are we going to do about the Butterfly House?” I asked. “Are we going to shut it down?”
“I don’t know if we have the power to shut it down,” said Smash Lass. “We operate with the consent of the government. We don’t really get to tell them what to do.”
“We could go public,” I said.
“You already went public,” said Smash Lass. “You think we’ll be any more convincing if we go out and tell the world, hey, yeah, turns out Cut Up Girl was right?”
“I think a lot of people would believe you,” I said.
Smash Lass looked skeptical. “So we tell the press. And the first follow up question will be how our brainwashed teammates got their memories back. We’ll explain that they’ve taken powerful mind altering drugs designed by an infamous supervillain. Everyone will agree that our stories have to be true.”
“You are far snarkier in real life than you seem on TV,” I said.
“Mica we can’t just ignore this,” said Harry. “For one thing, there’s the real possibility that someone in the Lawful Legion had Cut Up Girl murdered.”
“She’s right there!” said Smash Lass.
“I’m not the Cut Up Girl who got murdered,” I said. “I’m one of her clones. You can call me Echo. I only joined the team to find out who killed Valentine prime.”
“That shouldn’t be too difficult to solve,” said Prodigy. “Who would most benefit from her death?”
“Well, if someone on the Legion wanted to silence her—?”
“Then killing her following a press conference and elevating awareness of her book would be a very clumsy way of suppressing her story,” said Prodigy. “A more obvious conclusion would be that her death was arranged by someone who wanted to sell more copies of her book. Who would most benefit from her murder?”
“Son of a bitch,” I said, balling up my fists. “You’re right! I am going to fucking strangle her.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Stay Human
Echo’s Story
Iwas sitting in the booth of the Chinese restaurant where the old Valentine had shared her last meal with Harry. It was midafternoon, so the place wasn’t busy at all. The woman I’d been expecting walked toward me. I recognized her instantly, though she’d changed her hair and was wearing nerdy, square rimmed black glasses. She paused, looking me over, then said, “Hello, Echo. Long time no see.”
“Seriously?” I asked, as she slid into the booth across from me. “Glasses and a different haircut? That’s your whole disguise?”
Valentine shrugged. “It works better than you might think.”
Maybe she was right. She had a short, boyish cut, showing off her neck, and I couldn’t help but think that I might look pretty good in the same style.
“Okay. I like the look. And it’s weird how the glasses make you look smarter,” I said.
“We are smart,” said Valentine. “We’ve just done a lot of stupid things.”
“Like faking your death to sell books,” I said.
She gave the faintest grin.
“Do you know the hell you put Harry through? Why didn’t you tell him?”
“I didn’t know he would show up for the press conference. He specifically said that he wouldn’t only a few days before. When he did show up… well, things were already in motion.”
“McGruber could have killed him!”
She shrugged. “McGruber was a thug. Harry was a full-fledged superhero. I trusted things would work out. It was a risk, but I couldn’t figure out how to tell Harry without ruining everything.”
“What do you mean you? It was one of your clones at the press conference, right?”
“No, no, I was
there for that,” I said. “Honestly, I stuck around a long time, trying to figure out what to do. I went out to eat with Harry and Jenny afterwards. News was getting around. I got excited, thinking that people might believe my story after all. It firmed my resolve to go through with the plan. While Jenny was getting us a ride, I ran to the bathroom and made the switch.”
A waitress came over. We both ordered General Tso’s chicken and diet Pepsi.
“How on earth did you even get in contact with McGruber?”
“Don’t be stupid. Our Dad’s Professor Power. I still knew people in the Port City underworld who answered to him. It was a simple matter to pass myself off as working with him. Once I had my shadier connections secured, getting fake papers for a new life was easy, and getting word through the underground that there was a contract for Icer if he was interested in a job wasn’t hard. He took the bait. Intermediaries worked out the details and let him know where and when the hit would take place.”
“This is some mastermind supervillain shit,” I said. “I’m grudgingly impressed. Maybe we inherited more of dad’s genes than I thought.”
“Don’t forget Tempo,” she said. “We’re third generation mad scientists. Except we’re not scientists. Or mad. I did what I did for a greater good.”
“Yeah, I think Dad might have said the same thing once.”
“So. You figured out the truth and tracked me down.”
“You made it really easy to hack your email,” I said. “You’re still using the same three passwords we were rotating through back when we were the same person.”
“You going to rat me out?”
I grabbed my chopsticks and took them out of their paper. I didn’t look at her for several long seconds. Finally, I said, “Probably not.”
“Then we’re friends?”
“Definitely not,” I said.
“You know, one of the worst moments of my life was when you left me. I don’t understand how you can hate me so much. I mean, you are me, or at least you were me.”
I rolled up the chopstick paper and pushed it aside as I thought about her words. I’d spent a lot of time pondering the same question. I gave her the best answer I’d come up with.
“You created me to be disposable,” I said.
She cringed slightly. “That’s a pretty good reason to hate me, I guess.”
“Yeah, but it’s not that. I was born knowing I was going to die.”
“Everyone knows they’re going to die.”
“But, not like I did. Not with the same sense that the clock was ticking, that my life could end at any second.”
“But I chose not to kill you,” she said.
“Right. You were too busy killing yourself with booze.”
“I stopped drinking.”
“Good for you,” I said. “I mean it. Look, I don’t really hate you. It’s just… at some point, I thought about all those ticking seconds, about how few they seemed, and how precious they were, and decided not to waste them. I didn’t want to hang around with you while your life was such a train wreck. I wanted to climb out of the wreckage and go off and try to spend whatever time I had left pursuing a little happiness.”
“You hook up with Harry yet?” she asked. “From what you said just before you left, it sounded like that was your idea of happiness.”
I shook my head. “Not going to happen. He’s still in love with Jenny. I made an idiot of myself kissing him. But, he’s been kind enough to act like it never even happened. We’re still friends.”
“And teammates,” she said. “Joining the Lawful Legion to find out who killed me? I did not see that coming.”
“I’ve got another shocker,” I said. “I’m sticking with the team.”
“To help expose the full story of the Butterfly House from the inside?”
“That’s for my teammates to decide. It’s a democracy.”
“Truth isn’t up for a vote,” she said.
“And truth isn’t always clear cut,” I said. “Look… Golden Victory… he was also brainwashed into being a good guy.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“Nope. You saw the broadcast where the aliens said he was Glorgon the Conquerer right?”
“Yeah. And the clip where he changed into some alien looking dude before getting teleported from in front of the UN.”
“That wasn’t technically Golden Victory, but whatever. The point was he sacrificed himself to save the world right in front of my eyes. He was a hero to the end.”
“But brainwashed,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“If he didn’t have any choice in the matter, is he really a hero?”
“If he wasn’t a hero, we wouldn’t be here talking about this,” I said. “The world would be gone.”
“Wow,” she said. “It sounds like you’ve undergone some brainwashing yourself.”
“No,” I said. “I’ve just decided to use empathy, a little courage, and a touch of believing in something bigger than myself. I think we’ve always had two out of those three. But it’s the third one that tips the balance.”
Valentine leaned back in the booth. She took some money from her purse and tossed it across the table to me. “Look, I’m glad you’re having fun playing hero, but don’t think you can keep this Butterfly House thing secret. More people read my book every day. My agent’s negotiating film rights even as we speak.”
“How can he sell film rights? You’re legally dead and I haven’t signed any papers.”
“I signed the rights over to him before I disappeared. I’m not going to see a dime. I just want the truth out. Because, guess what, I believe in something larger than myself.” She got up from the table. “I thought you of all people would understand. But I’m getting this judgment vibe from you that I don’t feel like putting up with. Have fun wearing your costume.”
“Have fun trying to look smart,” I called out, as she walked away.
“What was that about?” said a middle-aged guy who sat down in the booth across from me without asking for permission. He was a white guy in this thirties, blonde, with scraggly facial hair.
“Do I know you?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “Just not in this body. I’m Anyman.”
“But… but I saw—”
“You saw me sacrifice myself to save the world?” He shook his head. “Come on. After our talk on the spaceship, you didn’t think I’d gotten all heroic on you did you? I have the powers of almost any member of the Legion I want. You don’t think I couldn’t figure out a way to survive?”
“But how? It all happened so fast.”
Anyman shrugged. “I used Tempo’s powers to stop time. I had hours to putter around my lab, looking for ideas of how I could save the world. Giving the aliens what they wanted might work, but I didn’t want to sacrifice myself, and wanted even less to sacrifice Golden Victory.”
“So how did you pull it off?”
“Easy. While you were still frozen in time, I wheeled you out of the meeting room and into my teleportation chamber for a scan, then wheeled you back. Then, I changed into you and cloned myself. After that, it was easy. My clone transformed into Golden Victory and went through the tachyon tube. I transformed back into Harper Li and went home to my wife to wait for the end of the world if my gamble didn’t pay off.”
“Everyone on the team thinks you’re dead,” I said.
“Let them keep thinking it,” he said. “Though, knowing Retaliator, he probably already knows the truth.”
“Retaliator quit the team.”
“He quit the Lawful Legion, but that’s not his only team. He’s part of groups you haven’t even heard of. He keeps busy.”
“We could really use you back in the Legion. Golden Victory’s gone. She-Devil still hasn’t turned up. Arc’s not going to be using his powers anytime soon.”
“So have a recruiting drive,” he said.
“It’s not that we don’t still have a lot of power,” I said. “With all th
e old guard gone, it’s experience we’re missing. It’s leadership.”
“I overheard what you and your clone were talking about,” he said.
“Her glasses didn’t make you think she was a different person?” I said with a chuckle.
“I had to take a second look,” he said, in all seriousness. “But, back on topic, what you were saying about Golden Victory?”
“Yeah?”
“Did he deserve to be punished for crimes he didn’t remember committing? Did I do the wrong thing by saving him?”
“You didn’t save him for long. You know he sacrificed himself to get rid of an exploding black hole before it poisoned the Earth with radiation, right?”
“So I heard. But, I didn’t have to send a clone to give the aliens what they wanted. With my powers, I had a dozen different ways of getting the real Golden Victory to New York. But I couldn’t stop thinking of him as the hero I’d fought beside a hundred times.”
“That’s who he really was,” I said.
“Maybe,” he said. “But, ever since, I keep thinking about Nazis.”
“He wasn’t a Nazi.”
“No. He sounds like something a lot worse. A Genghis Khan of outer space, building pyramids of alien skulls wherever he went. Who was I to deny those aliens their justice?”
“But he’d changed. He’d spent thirty years fighting on the side of the good guys. You saw him out in space. He wouldn’t kill even to save the planet. He was practically a saint.”
“Yeah. And, every year or so, people still track down some former Nazi who used to shunt people into ovens. It’s never someone major any more, just some slob who followed orders. Since the war these people have had families, made friends, become important members of their communities. We drag off old men to make them pay for crimes they committed when they were little more than kids. Some were only teens.”
“Putting Jews into ovens,” I said.
“And there shouldn’t be a statute of limitations on something like that,” he said.
