by R. J. Ross
"Not bad," Technico says. "Stay away from the remote control," he tells me. It's at that time I realize there's a huge flat screen hanging on the wall.
"I can't even look at it! It'll blow up!" I say.
"Nah. Just don't try and get inside its head. Computers, on the other hand, we'll keep you away from until I can get you a really crappy one."
"Get inside its head?" I repeat.
"You do it instinctively," he says. "It's there, your mind is going to automatically start trying to figure out how it works--er, we'll discuss this in another room. Or on the roof," he decides, grabbing my arm and tugging me away from the television. "For now, pick your rooms. The one with the biggest bed is mine."
I can't help but glance back at the television a bit longingly. I haven't watched television in over a month. I haven't checked my email or my web sites--my virtual pets are probably starving to death even as we speak.
What? It's important!
I shrug it off and look into one room, then the next, debating on which I want. They're rather boring, actually, plain tan walls, a full sized bed and a desk. The two are about the same in size, as well.
"I'm taking this one," Technico declares from the third room.
"Then I'll take this one, I guess," I say, heading for the one on the right. It's fine, I decide. At least there's no Justin poster on the wall. I was really starting to hate that poster.
I blink as Sunny steps in. "It's the same as mine."
"Yeah, pretty much," I say, dropping down on the bed. "We don't have anything to hang on the walls, either. So it doesn't really matter. You want this one instead?"
"No, it's fine," he says, heading for my bed to sit down next to where I lay. "Looks like we're leaving our school."
"Yeah."
"It would have been easier before Trent and Max," he mutters.
"Yeah."
"Technico's insane, isn't he?"
"Yeah. He absolutely is," I say, my mind going back to the elevator shaft incident.
"Think we'll die?"
"Maybe." I can't help but wonder if life wouldn't be easier for the super villain if we were dead. It's a callous thought, but he's already admitted that the only reason he's taking us in is because he has to. I doubt he has any feelings for us at all.
So the question is... just how bad is this bad guy?
Needless to say, I don't sleep very well that night. Morning takes forever to come, and I can't help but get up at seven, like I usually do, wondering if Technico had been lying about skipping school today. I get dressed and head into the bathroom I'll be sharing with Sunny to brush my teeth. I can hear someone moving around in the kitchen, even though they're a lot quieter than they should be. I can only assume that it’s Technico. Sunny never bothers to be quiet. He's never really awake at this time, either.
After washing my face and brushing my teeth I head into the kitchen, looking at the man at the stove. He's been stuck in a cell for fifteen years, I think, staring blankly at the shirtless man, but he looks like one of those muscle men on the front covers of those embarrassing romance novels you see at Walmart. Do you know how disturbing it is to have a dad that looks like that? And he's wearing those baggy sleep pants that have pictures on them. His has cars.
He glances up at me. "Pancakes okay?" he asks, flipping one with a flick of his wrist.
"Did they have a gym in the Cape Cells?" I ask.
"Yeah. Not much else to do, really. They stuck me in a bodysuit and collar that kept me from doing much more than turning the channel with my mind. So I spent most of the time working out, drawing up random designs, watching TV, the usual."
"Seems like a waste," I say, sitting down at the table. It also seems horrible to me. I don't think I like the guy much, but I bet his potential has been completely wasted for the last fifteen years--
"Most of the stuff I designed has been used," he says, sitting a plate of pancakes in front of me. "A lot of today's technology is based on the work I did in the cell. So I guess it's not a total waste."
"If that's true, why are you so broke?" I demand. "You should be rich!"
"I probably am," he admits. "I just need to wring it out of Double M's stingy little grasp. At least he gave us a decent place to live, though." He's starting up another pile of pancakes, as if this is a normal family and he's a normal dad. "Decent television, as well--at least it is now."
"It is... now?" I repeat.
"I upgraded it last night. There's also the remains of the computer in the front room--he might have picked out a decent big screen, but his tastes in computers," he drawls with a derisive snort. "Terrible."
"I thought you weren't going to allow me to blow up the computer!" I say, poking the pancakes before grabbing the butter and syrup.
"I'm not. Me taking it apart is completely different from your blowing it up."
Sunny comes in wearing his pajamas--a pair of boxers and a tank top. He yawns loudly before staring at the two of us blankly. After a second he heads to the table as well--and promptly faceplants where his plate should be.
"He's ah... not good with mornings?" Technico asks, holding a plate that I assume is for Sunny.
"Not really," I say.
"Today we'll be going to the new school after we go to the junkyard," Technico says, placing the plate next to Sunny's head and going back to the stove. "Your training will be construction work."
"What?" I ask. "You're kidding, right? Why can't we go to our school and you go do the construction work?" I demand.
"Because you're cheap labor."
"We're children!" I protest. "There are laws against that! And people are going to notice us not going to school, you know--they'll start looking for you!"
"I'll call in sick for you," he says, waving it off.
Sunny's waking up. For a moment he just stares at the plate in front of him before sitting up again and starting to eat. He's not going to be any help in this argument, not until he's been awake for a bit longer.
"Our friends are going to notice," I say. "They'll talk to the teachers--" I'm reaching. But I'd been planning on telling Max what has happened today and now I won't be able to! What will happen if we just go missing all of a sudden? Will he do something?
"Look, kid," Technico says as he sits down at the table with his own plate of pancakes. "I really think you should dump the norm. It's not that I'm against the whole having a boyfriend thing--"
"Max is not a norm!" I snap. Then I stop, realizing what I've just admitted. I wanted to keep that a secret, right? But--
"Oh?" Technico says. "Then what is he?"
"He's... um..." I look at Sunny.
"Maximum," Sunny says.
For a long moment Technico looks blank. Then he lets out a bark of laughter. "Oh man, you're serious?" he asks. "You're dating Double M's kid?"
"We aren't dating," I mutter, turning bright red and staring at my food. This isn't exactly how I pictured his reaction. "We're just friends."
"He found us," Sunny says, still eating.
"Well, personally I don't think I mind," Technico says thoughtfully. "But the Hall would have a heart attack. What with Maximum being a super villain and you my kid. Any kids you had would be mega super villains--more than they want to deal with--"
"We aren't going to have kids!" I yelp, my face so red that I can feel it burning.
"Make sure you don't," he says. "You're definitely not old enough."
"And I'm not going to be a super villain!" I add, staring at him and daring him to argue with that statement. Who knew a girl could feel pressured to go bad so much?
Technico looks at me then looks at Sunny. "What about you?" he asks. "Want to follow in your old man's footsteps?"
"Nope. What would I do, call myself Poison Oak?" Sunny says, snorting. "Wear green tights and attack people with poisonous flowers or something? No thanks."
I... am definitely picturing it now. Yeah. You are too, right? I'm pretty sure Technico is, because his mouth just dropped open
--now he's closed it and is looking away. Shoulders shaking--yeah, he's laughing. That just ruined the dramatic fight tension completely, and all Sunny is doing is finishing off his pancakes like he didn't say a word.
"Okay, you guys can be heroes if you want," Technico says, his voice muffled because he's looking away from us.
"You just had to mention tights, didn't you?" I say to Sunny.
"What? It's a really lame idea--they should always come with tights."
Have I mentioned that Sunny's brain filter doesn't kick in until around eight thirty to nine?
"He's got a very good point," Technico agrees. "I've seen a million lame ideas--they usually do come with tights. And capes. Capes are retarded, especially if you fly."
"Super villains wear capes too," I have to point out.
"The stupid ones. They tend to get caught in things. Okay, I'll let you call your boyfriend," he says, much to my shock. "But we're getting you out of public schooling as soon as we can."
"I... can't," I admit. "We don't have his phone number."
Technico scowls slightly, not happy with that at all, apparently. "Fine," he says. "I don't like it... but you can go to school--just for today."
"What's the big deal about going to school, anyway?" Sunny asks, drinking his glass of orange juice. "We've been going for years--all our lives, really."
There's a strange look on Technico's face, one that makes me wonder what he's thinking. Then he gives us a crooked grin. "The education isn't good enough," he says. "Not for future super villains!"
"I just told you--"
"If you're going to school you should get dressed," he says, standing and taking the plates. "Go on, Sunny, you smell like bad breath all the way across the table." The conversation is over. You can tell by the way he's got his back to us and is whistling as he washes the dishes.
Why do I feel that the subject isn't dead?
***
He doesn't like it. Sure, they've been on their own for two years--other than a foster family, but they’re still brand new to their powers. Nico scowls as he pulls the firebird to a stop in front of the school, looking at his kids. This time Zoe has called shotgun. He looks at his daughter, seeing her mother in her bright green eyes so clearly that he almost has to shake his head. "Alright," he says. "I'll be here at three exactly--if you're not out, I'm coming in, got it?"
"We'll be fine," Zoe says, rolling her eyes. "It's just school." She grabs her backpack and fights to get the door opened. "I really don't get you," she adds as she climbs out of the car. She's got an attitude problem the size of a small continent--and Nico's pretty sure where she got it from. It isn't her mother.
"At least he didn't make us go down the elevator," Sunny says as he crawls out over the back of her seat.
"Call me if anything happens," Nico says. "Actually, screw that, just shout."
"You're going to be doing construction--do you really think you'll hear that?" Zoe asks.
"I'll hear," he says. She's annoying, but it's because she asks so many questions. Hearing her ask things he's already asked himself, well, a part of him can't help but be amused. He doesn't need a blood test. Even if her powers weren't obviously his, her thought process would be. He bets she would hate to hear that.
Thing is, though, he's had a lot more practice thinking that way. His kid... his kids, actually. There are two of them. They are more vulnerable right now than they ever will be for the rest of their lives.
If he were a true villain he would have finished them off already, Nico admits silently. Or brainwashed them into doing his dirty work, maybe. For a full grown cape they're like cubs--sure they've got claws and teeth but they're tiny and don't do that much damage. It doesn't change the fact that they'll grow into big, dangerous predators--regardless of Zoe's insistence on being good. The ones that would kill her now aren't the type to sit down and check her stance on good versus evil.
Yes. There are a handful of capes out there that would find out he has kids, assume they will be evil as adults, and finish them off. There are others that would kidnap her, or both, using them as leverage to get him to do what they wanted. In fact, Mastermental's idea for a school is a dangerous undertaking for that very reason. Putting all the capes' kids in one convenient basket is just asking for trouble--
Nico scowls, realizing that he's been sitting in front of the school for the past three minutes. There's someone standing at his window. He leans forward, cranking the old fashioned window crank and looking at the woman standing there.
"Excuse me, sir, but your car has no license," she says.
"Oh, right, sorry--I keep forgetting to put up that temporary thing," Nico says, cursing his idiocy. He should have left as soon as he dropped them off.
"And we couldn't help but notice you were dropping off students--we like to keep an eye on who comes and goes to the school, considering recent problems in school security around the world--if you could fill out some paperwork for us--"
Nico bites back a sigh and reaches down, grabbing his massive pile of paperwork. "Give me a second, okay?" he says as he starts flipping through his paperwork. First he pulls out a temporary car license, slipping it into the front window, then he drags out his fake papers. It's astonishing just how thorough the Hall really is, he has to admit as he climbs out of the car. The woman looks even shorter when he's standing, he notices idly.
"How convenient," she says, a look of confusion quickly hidden. "Having all those papers on hand, that is."
"Yeah--well I was just discharged," he says a bit dryly. "Where do I need to go?"
"Follow me, please. The ah, children you dropped off--"
"Zoe and Sunny," he provides.
"They're yours?" She looks up at him, as if only now looking at his face. "Or your niece and nephew, perhaps?"
"They're mine." He's never thought he'd say something like that in his life. That thought is forgotten quickly enough as he realizes that he's walking into a den of teenagers, and most of them are turning to stare at him. It's really tempting to do something seriously embarrassing to his kids, like wave, he thinks evilly as he catches sight of them. He doesn't. He gets the feeling Zoe would use it as an excuse to shove her way into the--
"Um, sorry, but," Zoe calls, heading for them. "Ms. Fell, that's our father--he's not someone suspicious--well, he is, sortta, I mean--"
"Thanks, Zoe," Nico drawls, even as she grabs his forearm.
"We can vouch for him, I mean," she says, looking over her shoulder at Sunny. "Get over here already!" she hisses. His son--his only son--is acting like he doesn't know either of them, Nico notices, at least he is until Zoe yells at him. Then the boy saunters over, still looking half asleep.
"It's not like he's a super villain or something," Sunny drawls.
Just for that, Nico thinks, he's making the boy do the elevator twice after school.
CHAPTER SIX
Okay, why is he still here? What is he thinking?? Was he just sitting out in the parking lot checking out teenage girls or something? I wouldn't put it past him to be some pervert that likes young girls! But seriously, how do you get dragged to the principal's office on the very first day?
Well... other than by being a student?
"What were you thinking?" I whisper as quietly as I can. We're sitting on the old plastic chairs in the waiting area, with Technico between me and Sunny. They're uncomfortable.
"She noticed my car doesn't have plates," he whispers back. His lips are hardly moving, and I'm a bit surprised I can hear it, but I do. "It's fine, Double M's got me hooked up."
"Yeah, but you're not the one who's stuck with the dad that got brought in by Fell," I hiss almost silently.
"Yeah, Fell's the Cruella DeVille of Hickson High," Sunny whispers just as silently as we do before he lets out another yawn. "She's the queen of detentions, too. You'll probably get one."
"An adult doesn't get detention," Technico whispers back.
"You should," I whisper.
"If you two
hadn't insisted on coming to school--"
"Don't go blaming it on us!" I say a bit too loud, much to the surprise of the few teachers and the secretary in the office. "Sorry," I mutter. And how am I going to explain what just happened? I don't think I'll bother--and now Technico's draping an arm over my shoulders and tugging me into his side.
"Never," he swears. Then adds in his silent voice, "You're lousy at this, aren't you." He's laughing--he's actually teasing me as we stand in the office, waiting to have a heart to heart with Principal Matkins--and he's a super villain! What if someone figures it out? What if they start asking questions--I don't want to go back to the foster home, even if staying with Technico seems insane.
I can't exactly tug free like I want to, not if we're going to tell them he's our long lost Dad or whatever, so I'm stuck leaning into his side as if I actually like him. He's warm. He's not as hard as he looks like he should be, either. And just like when Max held me, I can hear his heartbeat. Technico's heartbeat is steady, slow, as if he's taking a stroll through the park or reading a book. Unconsciously I find myself listening to the steady lub-dub, lub-dub.
"Mister Rosenthorn?" Ms. Fell asks.
"It's Walters," Technico says. "I'm afraid we never got around to marriage before I was sent for duty."
"I see," she says. "Well Principal Matkins will speak to you now."
Technico stands, hauling me up with him, then turns to Sunny, who's fallen asleep somewhere along the line. "Sunny," he says, snapping his fingers. Sunny jerks awake. "C'mon, kid, we have to talk to the principal."
"Oh, right."
"Tell me, does he fail his first hour class a lot?" he asks me.
"We try and get him study hall," I say.
"Smart."
Is it just me or did Ms. Fell just check out Technico's butt as we walked past? Ewwww. I step into the principal's office first, followed by Technico and Sunny. The man behind the desk is short, balding, and has those little round glasses that really should have never been in fashion in the first place. He's looking at paperwork, but puts it down as he notices we're there.
