Girl Power

by PT Dilloway

  “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 ev
en 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 kis
sed 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.”