Supergirl

by Jo Whittemore

  She and Mon-El sped past various exhibits until they reached the end of the hall. Just past the left turn, they spotted Dr. Wanabi sitting on a bench. Thankfully, the bars of orichalcum were still stacked inside a display case.

  “Dr. Wanabi!” Supergirl approached him. “You’re coming with us.”

  Dr. Wanabi gasped and jumped to his feet. “Supergirl!”

  “That’s right,” she said with a smug smile. “Mon-El, grab the orichalcum while I have a little chat with Dr. Wanabi.”

  Mon-El didn’t move. “With my bare hands? After what it did to you?”

  Supergirl swiveled her head to look at him. “If you’re worried, then use your jacket,” she whispered.

  “Sure,” he said. Then hesitated. “Except, I just bought it. What if—”

  “Mon-El!” she said in a sharper voice.

  “Right,” he said, hurrying forward. “OK.” He reached toward the display case, then thought better of it and squatted beside it. “Sorry, Fred.” Wrapping his arms around the base of the display, Mon-El ripped the whole thing from the floor.

  Supergirl winced but grabbed Dr. Wanabi’s arm. “We’re going on a little trip.”

  Dr. Wanabi shook his head. “You should leave if you don’t want to get hurt. I’ve got people coming to help me.”

  “Yeah? Well, so do we,” said Supergirl.

  Suddenly, she heard the snap of a whip and felt a sharp sting at her waist. Supergirl glanced down and saw what appeared to be a thick blond braid wrapped around her middle.

  “What the—”

  The braid tightened, jerking Supergirl backward into Mon-El, who tumbled over and dropped the display stand. The glass case shattered when it hit the floor, and the orichalcum bars spilled out with metallic clunks.

  Mon-El peeled off his jacket and tossed it over the orichalcum bars, scooping them up just as a blast of fire shot in front of him. With a yelp, he leaped back into a slimy ooze, losing all traction beneath his feet. Mon-El slipped and skidded, fighting to stay upright, while a man in green swim trunks slid past him through the slime.

  “Thanks for wrapping my to-go order!” the man said, hefting the contents of Mon-El’s jacket under one arm.

  “Hey! Put that down!” Mon-El shouted, skittering toward him.

  “Honey, would you do the honors?” The man in the swim trunks nodded to a woman holding a ball of flame.

  Mon-El’s eyes widened. “Uh-oh.”

  Across the room, Supergirl struggled with several braids that had lashed around each of her limbs. The little girl who owned them cackled with glee.

  “I really hate to do this,” Supergirl told her, “but it’s time for you to get a haircut.”

  She squinted at each braid, singeing it off with a blast from her heat vision.

  The girl screamed and dropped to her knees, gathering up her fallen locks.

  Supergirl ran toward Mon-El to help him, but something grabbed one of her ankles and tripped her. Supergirl turned and saw a hand jutting out from a portal in the floor. Then another hand appeared and a man began to pull himself up, using Supergirl as an anchor. She zapped him with her heat vision, but the man’s skin simply absorbed the blast.

  “Oh, that can’t be good,” she murmured.

  The man’s weight pulled at her leg, causing her to slide toward the portal. Supergirl lay flat on her stomach and shot several holes in the floor with her heat vision, using the holes as handholds.

  “Mon-El!” she shouted. “We’re about to have more company!”

  “Great!” he shouted back, ducking a fireball. “I could use a fair fight!”

  The man climbing through the portal finally emerged and released Supergirl. While he was still on his hands and knees, Supergirl rolled onto her back and kicked him hard in one shoulder.

  The man grinned but didn’t budge. It was as if he were absorbing all her attacks, like a human sponge.

  Supergirl scrambled to her feet and charged toward Mon-El’s fiery attacker.

  “Don’t worry about me! Stop Mr. Slick over there!” Mon-El pointed to the man in swim trunks who was skating down the hall on slime-covered feet, carrying Mon-El’s orichalcum-filled jacket.

  Supergirl flew after the man and tackled him, but he wriggled free and skated off with a backward glance and a laugh.

  “Guess I’m the one that got away!” crowed Mr. Slick.

  Alex stepped in his path holding a harpoon gun. “Wanna bet?”

  She pulled the trigger and a massive net shot from the gun, entangling Mr. Slick. He struggled to free himself, but magnetic weights at the net’s edges clamped firmly to one another and to the orichalcum.

  Supergirl landed by her sister while DEO agents ran past them into the fray. “That was amazing! How did you know to bring that?” She gestured to the harpoon gun.

  “After J’onn talked with you about repercussions, he and Winn researched the residents of Shady Oaks, trying to think of powers they might develop.” Alex nodded to the net. “That was actually meant for a fishmonger.” She stopped two DEO agents and pointed out Mr. Slick. “Jackson, Whitby, take this man and what he’s carrying to the van.”

  “You got it,” one of them said.

  Alex looked at Supergirl. “Shall we?” She nodded toward the commotion in the next room.

  “Not without me,” said a deep voice muffled by metal and mask. Guardian appeared beside them, and the trio ran toward the exhibit room, where the chaos had tripled in Supergirl’s absence.

  Mon-El and six DEO agents were battling a dozen supercitizens while Dr. Wanabi cowered in the corner. The woman with the fireballs was in handcuffs, and Mon-El was now wrestling the Human Sponge. Supergirl raced across the room to help, and Alex started to follow—until an oversized marionette leaped onto her back, waving a broken piece of glass. With a swipe of his shield, Guardian sent the puppet flying.

  Alex gawked at it. “Looks like I’ve got my nightmare lined up for tonight.”

  “Where did all these people come from?” Guardian asked, sidestepping a man with horns.

  “There’s . . . a . . . portal!” Supergirl said, freeing herself from a headlock. “We have to disrupt it! Winn?”

  “Let me think, let me think!” his voice answered in her ear. “Oh! Have any objects come through the portal alone? Like a gun or a knife . . . something not carbon-based?”

  “Does Pinocchio’s evil twin count?” asked Alex.

  “That’s Stringleshanks!” the marionette screeched, lunging for her again.

  Alex ducked, and the marionette went hurtling past.

  “As disturbing as it sounds, chances are that’s a real person,” said Winn. “Whoever created the portal probably can’t transport just nonliving things, so tossing in a vase or something should do the trick.”

  “Let’s hope so!” Supergirl picked up the pedestal Mon-El had ripped from the floor and hurled it at the portal. As the stone pedestal passed through, the edges of the portal fizzled. A second later, the portal disappeared, leaving the pedestal half-wedged in the floor.

  The disappearance of their escape route seemed to spook the supercitizens. They stopped attacking and started running for the exits.

  Several of the DEO agents cheered, and one shouted, “We beat ’em!”

  Alex frowned and grabbed him by the arm. “Jackson! What are you doing here?”

  Jackson glanced at her in confusion. “Ma’am?”

  Alex pointed toward the exit. “I told you and Whitby to wait at the van!”

  The other DEO agent just stared. “Ma’am, I’ve been in here since we arrived.”

  Alex froze. “What?”

  Supergirl approached her sister. “What’s going on?”

  Alex tapped her earpiece. “Whitby, status report.”

  No response.

  “Whitby, do you copy?” Alex ran from the room.

  “Alex! Talk to me!” Supergirl flew after her.

  “I had Jackson and Whitby take that supercitizen we caught to the van,
” Alex said between breaths, “but Jackson’s been inside the whole time. So unless he can be in two places at once . . .”

  Supergirl’s jaw tightened. “Whitby’s with two of the evil supercitizens.”

  She surged ahead and out the front doors to the DEO van. Whitby lay unconscious on the ground next to a pile of shredded netting.

  Mr. Slick and the Jackson impostor were gone.

  And so was all the orichalcum.

  11

  Once, when Mon-El was a boy, a servant’s son had dared him to climb to the palace roof. Mon-El made it only ten feet or so before he lost his footing and fell, striking his head on the wall.

  That skull-throbbing pain was exactly what he felt now.

  He, Supergirl, and Alex were back at the DEO being debriefed by J’onn after their disastrous attempt at recovering the orichalcum. After Supergirl discovered it gone, she’d scoured the area for the supercitizens, but they’d vanished without a trace, leaving their captured friends (the horned Hard Charger and fiery Flamethrower) behind.

  Luckily, Supergirl and Alex were both slouching in their chairs, disappointed, so he could hide his headache by burying his head in his hands and mirroring their sentiment.

  “The strike team did as directed,” Alex told J’onn. “It’s my fault for not paying more attention.”

  Supergirl squinted at her sister. “You’re not a screwup, Alex.”

  Mon-El sucked in his breath and sat up straighter, despite the pain. Where had that comment come from?

  “What? I never said I was.” The color rose in Alex’s cheeks.

  “No, but you’re thinking it,” Supergirl said sagely.

  Mon-El frowned. How could she know what Alex was thinking?

  “And you’re wrong,” Supergirl continued. “You’re brilliant and tough as nails and—”

  Alex didn’t seem cheered by her sister’s pep talk, but Supergirl appeared to be oblivious, continuing to rattle off Alex’s best qualities.

  “I’m sorry I let such a huge mistake happen on my watch.” Alex turned her attention back to the DEO director.

  Supergirl tugged at Alex’s sleeve. “You’re not listening. You didn’t make a—”

  “Yes, I did, Kara!” Alex whirled on her sister. “And talking about how great I am just reminds me that I shouldn’t have let this happen.”

  Supergirl held up her hands. “Jeez, sorrrry. I thought you could use a pick-me-up.”

  Mon-El leaned toward Supergirl and whispered, “I’m gonna guess that’s not what she wants.”

  Alex grunted in exasperation and faced J’onn once more. He regarded Alex with a stern but fatherly expression.

  “A mistake was made,” J’onn said, “but we learn from it and improve our tactics. Correct, Agent Danvers?”

  Alex’s shoulders relaxed a little, but she nodded curtly. “Yes, sir. It won’t happen again.”

  “I know it won’t,” said J’onn with a tight smile. “Now, Mr. Schott, any progress on tracking down the orichalcum or our nefarious friends?” J’onn turned to Winn.

  “Nada,” said Winn, frowning at his screen. “Whoever’s creating portals for them is really good. I haven’t found a single trace of virtual particles.”

  “We have to steal that orichalcum back,” said Supergirl, getting to her feet. “Now that they have all that potential power and Dr. Wanabi—”

  “Actually, they don’t,” said a familiar voice.

  Mon-El and the others turned to see Guardian walking down the control room steps, pushing a bedraggled Dr. Wanabi before him.

  “I found him hiding in a coffin at the museum,” said Guardian.

  “Oh, when I’m finished with him, he’s gonna need a coffin all right,” growled Supergirl, storming toward the scientist.

  “Wait.” Mon-El leaped out of his chair and grasped Supergirl’s hand, using it to steady himself for a second. “Let’s see what he can tell us first.”

  Supergirl faced Mon-El. “This whole mess is because . . .” She trailed off and her forehead wrinkled. “Are you OK?”

  Mon-El stood as tall as he could. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, even as the edges of his vision darkened. “Why do you ask?”

  “You don’t look very good.” She placed a hand to his forehead. “And you’re burning up.”

  “I feel fine,” he repeated, closing his eyes and focusing on a connection with Supergirl. When he opened his eyes, he caught his reflection—or rather her reflection—in a monitor. “Do I look better now?”

  “Not really.” Winn pointed at his face. “Now your nose is bleeding. Like your greatest weakness is low humidity.”

  “What?” Mon-El wobbled on the spot, and Supergirl reached out to steady him.

  Behind them, there was a clatter and thud.

  “James!” Alex rushed over to where he’d collapsed on the floor. She pulled off his helmet to reveal blood spilling from his nose as well.

  Dr. Wanabi stood frozen in place, watching in horror as Alex pried James’s eyes open and studied his pupils. “Not again,” Dr. Wanabi whispered.

  “You’ve seen this before?” Supergirl asked, letting go of Mon-El long enough to grab him a box of tissues.

  “Of course he has,” muttered Alex. “It’s happening to all the supercitizens, isn’t it?”

  Dr. Wanabi swallowed hard and nodded.

  J’onn pointed at Winn. “Mr. Schott, have the infirmary prep two cots for Mr. Olsen and Super . . . uh . . . Mon-El,” he corrected himself.

  “Already on it,” said Winn, a phone to one ear.

  Mon-El shook his head, blond hair bouncing, as he blotted his nose with a tissue. “I’m fine. I don’t need the infirmary.”

  “Mon-El, you may heal faster than James, but you’ve still got orichalcum in your veins,” said Supergirl.

  “So do you,” he shot back.

  She smiled bitterly. “Yeah, but my collapse isn’t scheduled until tomorrow.” She glanced at Dr. Wanabi. “That’s right, isn’t it? The poison doesn’t hit you for about twenty-four hours?”

  Dr. Wanabi frowned. “No, it doesn’t work that way. It spreads faster the more people use their powers.”

  “The cots are ready.” Winn pointed down the hall.

  Supergirl ducked under one of Mon-El’s arms while J’onn hoisted James over one shoulder. Dr. Wanabi stayed rooted to the spot until Alex snapped a pair of handcuffs on him.

  “You’re coming with us,” she said. “You’ve got a lot to answer for.”

  Supergirl staggered to the infirmary with Mon-El while J’onn walked behind them, carrying James. Alex followed, escorting Dr. Wanabi, and Winn brought up the rear.

  “This is different,” said Dr. Hoshi while Supergirl helped Mon-El onto a cot. “Two Supergirls.”

  “I was trying to prove I was healthy,” said Mon-El.

  Dr. Hoshi shrugged. “Hey, I don’t judge . . .”

  She dragged a special sunlamp over to Mon-El and flipped it on, soaking him with intense solar waves.

  “Let there be light!” she said.

  Within moments, the throbbing in Mon-El’s head lessened.

  “Your nose stopped bleeding,” said Supergirl with a sigh of relief.

  “Now for the real test,” said Mon-El.

  He closed his eyes and focused on connecting with his true self. His scalp began to itch as his hair shrank to its normal length, and the pressure of wearing Supergirl’s costume eased as he felt his own clothes return. The best part was that he didn’t feel any worse for it.

  Mon-El opened his eyes and saw Supergirl smiling.

  “You’re getting better at that,” she said.

  Mon-El glanced at James, who was struggling to keep his eyes open. He, unfortunately, didn’t get the same healing benefit from the sun.

  “Don’t look so worried,” Dr. Hoshi told Mon-El as she hooked James up to an IV. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  “What’s in here?” Alex thumped the IV bag. “Saline?”

  “ED
TA,” said Dr. Hoshi. “For chelation.”

  “EDTA? Chelation?” Supergirl shook her head in confusion.

  Before Dr. Hoshi could answer, Dr. Wanabi chimed in.

  “EDTA’s a synthetic amino acid,” he said. “So it can bond with other molecules. Chelation will basically drag whatever the EDTA bonds with out of the body. I’m guessing orichalcum, in this case.” He gave Dr. Hoshi a questioning look, and she smiled at him.

  “That’s right. I figured I’d try it since it works for lead poisoning,” she said.

  Alex nodded. “It’s worth a shot.”

  “But won’t that mean James loses his powers?” asked Winn.

  Supergirl gave him an incredulous look. “Would you rather he be like this?” She gestured to their semiconscious friend.

  Winn brushed a hand over the top of his hair. “No, but he’s probably gonna freak. He’s always wanted powers.”

  “Well, if this doesn’t work, he may just get to keep them,” said Dr. Hoshi.

  Alex turned to Dr. Wanabi. “You’re a scientist. And you were probably a decent person at one point. So why mess with an unknown substance in a building full of people? What were you thinking?”

  Dr. Wanabi took a deep breath and wriggled in his handcuffs. “I was thinking of my sister. She has cancer, and I was hoping the orichalcum would help.”

  Alex blinked at him. “By killing her quicker?”

  “Alex!” Supergirl smacked her arm. “The man’s sister has cancer.”

  J’onn lifted a hand to halt the sisters’ argument. “How did you think it could help, Dr. Wanabi?”

  He settled onto a chair next to James. “I like to dive in my spare time, and among divers there are always myths and legends: mermaids, sirens, the lost city of Atlantis.”

  “Oh, that last one’s actually a real thing,” said Winn.

  Dr. Wanabi nodded. “At first I didn’t believe it, but a friend told me about a man who had failing kidneys and weeks to live. He went for a dive and”—Dr. Wanabi clapped his hands together, and everyone jumped—“his kidneys were healed.”

  “Let me guess,” said Alex. “He happened to be diving near Atlantis.”

  Dr. Wanabi held up a finger. “My friend and I visited a different dive site nearby and heard another story. This one was about a woman who hoped to find enough treasure to pay off her debt. She went for a dive and a week later had all the money she needed.”