by Ruth Diaz
“But Mama…”
TJ ignored the big soulful eyes.
“Mama’s right,” Annmarie called from the kitchen. “I don’t think Vincy wants anybody throwing up on her.”
Vincy sat down on the carpet and poked Marisol’s belly with one finger. Marisol giggled. “I’m gonna be here all afternoon, Mari. We’ll do airplane rides once your mama and her friend leave.”
Marisol seemed cheered by that, and even Esteban grinned. “Let’s play checkers till then,” he said.
The kids settled down to play. Now that they were healthy again, she ought to call the school and request a couple days’ worth of homework. And since there was no telling when she and Gear Girl would be back, she probably ought to do it now.
One phone call and two games of checkers later, the door chimed again. She checked the video and blinked at the weathered face framed by graying black hair and a beard looming over Gear Girl’s shoulder, even as she buzzed them in.
Why was Mad Mulligan with her? Not that TJ minded Mulligan—he was an entertaining curmudgeon—but this wasn’t union business.
This was her business.
It was bad enough she had to call Gear Girl in for expert help. Gear Girl was a technomancer—someone whose control over the mechanical often looked more like the laying on of hands than any kind of engineering. She and TJ often double-teamed the Iron Fist’s mechanical marvels, Gear Girl directing and TJ moving objects too large to manipulate by hand and too urgent to wait for a crane. They helped each other out often enough that calling in a favor was no big deal. She didn’t have that history with Mulligan. He was a flyer, never mind his affection for that bike of his, and TJ hadn’t flown since she moved to Trade City.
“Sorry,” Gear Girl said as TJ let them into the apartment. “My Overlord had me up to my elbows in motor oil when you called.” Not that TJ could tell to look at her. Gear Girl’s signature vest with the gold gears on the front was missing, and her long-sleeved black shirt and black schoolmarm skirt didn’t show any stains. Which, come to think of it, might have something to do with her choosing black for her superhero outfit, steampunk motif aside.
Since she was also minus her bulky utility belt and her short brown hair didn’t have goggles pushed up on it, TJ assumed her gear had gone into her shoulder bag for the subway trip. TJ glanced past her at Mulligan. “Let me guess, the motor oil is where you get involved.”
Mad Mulligan quirked one bushy eyebrow and let the door fall closed behind him before answering. “The lass says that like she doesn’t like the Overlord. Or motor oil. Who doesn’t like motor oil?” The faint trace of an accent coloring his words managed to make “motor oil” sound ridiculous.
Vincy stood up and waved. “Hey, Mulligan. You going along?”
“He’s not,” TJ said.
“I am,” Mulligan replied at the same time. He ignored the glare TJ shot him. “Heidi, if you’re right and Singularity uses gravity to affect the ocean, Gigi will have her hands full with the tidal turbines. You might want to go up against him alone, but I can promise you he won’t be alone, and it’ll take some time for help to arrive. If I go along, the worst that can happen is you don’t need me.”
TJ sighed. He was right. She wanted this to be personal, but if Singularity did what she thought he was going to do, it wouldn’t be just her problem. It would be all of Washington Bay’s problem.
“All right, you win. Let’s go.”
* * *
“Tia Vincy, who were those other people?”
Annmarie had just sat down in the armchair to the side of where the kids had abandoned checkers in favor of showing the Invincible Woman some game they had on a tablet computer. Annmarie had thought that would keep them busy for at least long enough that airplane rides would no longer be outlawed, but TJ was barely out the door, and Esteban had already gone on to awkward questions.
The Invincible Woman looked caught out, no matter how she tried to hide it. “Friends of your mama.”
God, Annmarie remembered “explanations” like that from when she was growing up—the kind that didn’t lie, but talked down to her in trying not to tell all of the truth. She remembered Esteban’s expression too. From the inside. Before he could answer, Annmarie said, “You know how careful superheroes have to be about who knows they’re really superheroes, right?”
That caught Marisol’s attention too. As Esteban nodded, she asked, “They were other superheroes? How come she didn’t tell us?”
Vincy shot Annmarie a worried look.
Ignoring it, Annmarie slid off the chair and sat on the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She always found it easier not to talk down to kids when she wasn’t literally talking down to them. “I don’t know for sure, ‘cause I’m not her. But when I was little, my parents had lots of different reasons for not wanting me to know much about their superhero friends. Sometimes they were just in too much of a hurry, because they had to go save people. Sometimes they weren’t sure if I could really keep a secret when things got hard at school and I wanted to tell mean kids how special my family was. Do you ever feel like that?”
Marisol nodded slowly. “Sometimes, but I never tell. Mama says it has to stay secret. That’s why we don’t know Tia Vincy’s real name.”
The Invincible Woman’s mouth settled into unhappy lines, but she reached over to stroke Marisol’s hair. “It’s okay, Mari, I don’t mind being Vincy for you. And you can say Vincy to anyone, and that’s always okay.”
So TJ had told the kids more than Vincy was sure was safe. That was something, anyway. It made Annmarie feel better about having feelings for the superhero. At least, this particular superhero. “It’s not that Mama doesn’t trust you. It’s that kids can be way meaner than grown-ups. And you shouldn’t ever have to lie because of mean kids, except to protect your mama.”
Esteban got up from the couch and sat down by Annmarie on the carpet. “Did your parents have superhero friends because they were superheroes?” His earnest eyes watched her face intently.
She nodded. “And they were always worried about someone finding out and trying to hurt them by hurting me. There was no Superheroes Union when I was growing up, so they were extra careful. We moved around a lot, and I went to lots of different schools, and I couldn’t ever bring friends home.”
“That’s awful,” Marisol said.
Was it? Annmarie didn’t remember it being awful, she’d just gotten so tired of superhero this and superhero that. She smiled and shook her head. “It wasn’t awful, but it was kind of lonely. But you two are lucky, because you have each other, and your mama, and Tia Vincy, and probably lots of friends, am I right?”
Both the twins nodded. “And you,” Esteban said.
Her heart swelled a little, and she caught Vincy giving her a thoughtful look. “And me.”
* * *
TJ didn’t like abusing her government position for this kind of thing, but when she’d talked to Todd about it earlier, he’d growled and told her to stop being stupid. This was exactly the kind of unspecified, under-the-table duty he’d counted on when her position had been arranged. Research Analyst was such a nebulous job title, it would get her into a lot of facilities and functions she couldn’t otherwise be seen at without admitting she was a superhero. And neither of them wanted Singularity laying one super-powered finger on the Washington Bay test installation.
So TJ was dressed in a gray pantsuit over a white blouse, while Gear Girl was her usual steampunked self and Mad Mulligan—who had never worried about maintaining any kind of secret identity—had thrown his signature brown trench coat on over grease-stained jeans and a Rolling Stones T-shirt. TJ tried not to appear annoyed or jealous. She’d chosen to become the invisible superhero to keep Marisol and Esteban safe. That secrecy was even more important with Singularity on the loose
than it had been before, no matter how much she wanted to pull on a costume and a half mask and be up in the air watching for him. He’d have to come inland or swim up to the observatory anyway. Unless his powers had changed radically, he needed a line of sight to affect anything—the same as she did.
She and Gear Girl dropped Mulligan off several miles away, where he could take to the air unobserved, and then drove the anonymous black SUV through town to the entrance for the oceanic observatory’s underground garage. At the gatehouse, TJ stopped the car and handed over her work ID. The gate guard’s eyes widened—she could practically see the words Department of State reflected in his irises. He handed it back and raised the bar across the entrance for them.
A tunnel took them down into the garage, and by the time TJ put the car in Park and got out, a tall, swarthy man with a shaggy mop of black hair and enough nose for two was waiting for them beside an elevator door. He wore jeans, a polo shirt and a gloomy expression. As TJ and Gear Girl approached, he smiled at them, and even the smile was gloomy.
“It’s not as bad as all that,” Gear Girl said. “We don’t bite, I promise.”
TJ only managed not to roll her eyes by staying firmly in her professional persona. “Dr. Galvan? TJ Gutierrez, and my associate, Gear Girl.” As they reached him, she displayed her ID again. “I believe the Superheroes Union called ahead for us?”
Dr. Galvan nodded. “Anything you need from us, you get. We’ve got a dozen different projects running out there, and it’s hard enough to keep the grant money flowing when everything goes swimmingly. I don’t even want to think what the funding situation will be like if we’ve got supervillains coming in and wrecking things.”
“That’s what we’re here to prevent,” Gear Girl said.
“Why don’t we start with a tour of your facility?” TJ lifted her wrist to check the old-fashioned wristwatch she only wore for this kind of dress-up occasion. “We expect that the Iron Fist Guild’s move will come in concert with low tide, which gives us just under an hour to get our bearings and have Gear Girl and our external backup from the Superheroes Union in optimal positions. I’ll be reporting potential points of vulnerability back to my department for best use.”
Dr. Galvan used a key card to get them into the elevator. Only after the doors had closed and they were on their way up to the oceanic observatory did he ask, “So how will you know they’re coming?”
Gear Girl shrugged. “We have the Coast Guard monitoring for any approach via sonar. We’re reasonably sure they’ll come in from the sea, though we have eyes on the aerial approaches as well. And we can’t be sure it will be this low-tide cycle, but if we make it through the next several days, the immediate danger should be past.”
That appeared to put Dr. Galvan more at ease, and he conducted the tour with as little fanfare as possible and as much detail as Gear Girl’s mechanically inclined heart could desire. TJ followed the explanations in a general sort of way, nodding in what seemed to be the right places, while she kept her eyes on all the points where someone could enter the observatory from the surrounding ocean or come close enough to an observation window to affect what was inside.
Of course, Singularity could always simply crush the entire observatory, rather than trying to affect just the tidal forces operating on the turbine generator installation, but she had a hard time imagining he’d do that. Jon had always meant to make things better, however misguided he was. At his worst, he’d taken a whole lot of hostages, but he would never have intended to kill them, only to use them as leverage.
When the tour was over, Gear Girl turned to TJ and said, “The observation windows directly behind the tidal turbines. Not only is it the best vantage point, it’s also the weak point in the system—if he lacks a power quotient sufficient to interfere with the tide itself, he’d use line of sight on the turbines to collapse them as a backup plan.”
That agreed with TJ’s own analysis, based less on an understanding of the engineering and more on the Iron Fist’s usual mode of operations. “We’ll take up positions there, Dr. Galvan, and if you could make sure that your staff are out of harm’s way and prepared to record data on any event that isn’t related to standard low-tide behaviors, my department would appreciate that.”
Dr. Galvan nodded, his long face set in morose lines. “Sure, but what’s to stop them from coming in through one of the entrances and doing their mischief from the inside?”
“Mad Mulligan,” Gear Girl said clearly, “do you have eyes on us?”
Thank heavens for the ubiquitous presence of Bluetooth headsets these days. It made it possible for TJ to have her union-band earpiece in without anyone the wiser, so she heard Mulligan’s lightly accented answer.
“Got the land-based entrances in sight, and according to the schematics, I’d be able to see the outline of the base if I could see anything through the soup they’re usin’ for water down there. At least the damn villains’ guild does secret lairs with a bit of flair, not just drowning them in the murk.” He sighed. “If the Coast Guard sees anything, I’ll be going in blind, but I’ll be going in.”
That was Mad Mulligan all over—always the optimist. TJ kept her face carefully blank while Gear Girl smirked.
“It’s not a secret lair, Mulligan, it’s an oceanic research station.” While he grumbled about mincing words, Gear Girl turned to Dr. Galvan. “My backup has the entire observatory on visual. If the Iron Fist tries for any other entrance, I’ll run and temporarily jam the door and he’ll be on them in a flash.”
The unhappy administrator went on his way, and TJ and Gear Girl worked their way back to the now-empty turbine observation deck. TJ tapped her earpiece to make the mic live. “Control, we’re in position. What’s the word from the Coast Guard?”
“Still nothing. A few echoes—perhaps large enough to be consistent with the cyborg sharks—but they do not appear to be coming any farther into the inlet, and there is nothing consistent with either a vessel or any number of divers.”
TJ checked her watch again. “Twenty minutes.”
“I hate waiting,” Mad Mulligan complained.
Gear Girl, perversely, grinned. “That’s twenty minutes I can use to study the turbines.”
Against her will, TJ chuckled softly. “At least somebody’s getting something out of this.”
“No knowledge is wasted,” Gear Girl said cheerfully, peering out the windows through whatever filters her goggles were providing for this type of underwater viewing.
The long bank of windows looked out on the peculiar oceanic twilight illuminated by the observatory’s external lighting. TJ wasn’t sure if anything at all would be visible without it, or if not enough daylight came this deep. Not that they were terribly deep, all things considered—the test installation for the bank of tidal turbines sat well into the narrow inlet.
It was kind of interesting to watch seaweed swaying and fish and other things she couldn’t identify swimming past the windows, and the turbines themselves were probably interesting if you were someone like Gear Girl. To TJ, they were just the oceangoing equivalent of really large box fans.
Dammit, she wanted to be in the air with Mulligan. Minutes passed like hours, leavened only by his voice in her ear, singing a series of drinking songs she’d never heard before.
Low tide passed. TJ was beginning to wonder if the Iron Fist was ready to make its move this soon after all. She might have to stick around through the next cycle. Then the sound of footsteps running up the hall behind them had her turning in place, waiting for visual on whoever it was so she could stop them cold.
A young man in a lab coat burst through the open doorway to the observation deck. “It’s not coming in.”
“What’s not?” TJ asked.
He shook his head like he couldn’t understand the question. “The tide. We’re past the low-tide point, but the water’s still go
ing out. The tide’s not coming back in.”
TJ only just stopped herself from speaking into her mic. While they were here, Gear Girl was the visible face—and voice—of the Superheroes Union. “Mulligan, he’s out there somewhere. Observatory staff just told us that the tide’s still going out, and it shouldn’t be.”
“Let me see what I can find,” he said.
“What does that mean to the observatory?” TJ asked the young man in the room with them. “Does anyone know what the impact will be, structurally or to the experiments?”
The man shrugged. “I’ll see what I can find out—I’m just an intern. But for my money, it’s not like the place is going to fall down even if we’re completely dry. Some of the experiments will be destroyed, and Dr. Galvan’ll be pretty pissed.” His eyes went past TJ to the viewing windows. “Not sure what’ll happen when the water all comes rushing back in, though.”
Didn’t that just figure? “Go find out,” she said sharply, waving him out of the room. “Gear Girl, do we need to evacuate?”
Gear Girl swung her whole head, making sure her goggles had a good view of the edges of the windows and the turbines outside. “Not if we can invoke the Hidden Hand. I don’t think this wall would make it on its own, but if she can do structural reinforcement, we should be okay.” She walked up to the computers centered on the wall of windows. “I’m not sure the turbines will survive the extra load without some help, either, but that’s just a matter of burning out, and I can probably manage that from here, either hands-on or eyes-on.” She gestured from the computer screens to the turbines outside.
TJ closed her eyes. She’d never wished she could be in two places at once so badly. “Mulligan, do you see anything out there? Can either Gear Girl or the Hidden Hand do more up top than down here?”
