“Newspaper? What newspaper?”
Greta doesn’t have to answer because a moment later Stan Shaw appears in the doorway—with Billy Leyton in tow.
***
Starla’s first temptation is to run away, but she knows she can’t. First off that would disappoint Greta terribly. Second, even if she does run, Stan Shaw can catch her without a problem and then he’ll be alerted to something wrong with her. The smartest course of action is to ride it out.
She fidgets behind the counter as Stan Shaw approaches. He really does look like how she used to, right down to the glasses she knows are fake. He sticks out one meaty hand for her to shake. His hand envelops hers, but she notes how careful he is not to rip her hand off as he shakes it. “Hello, Miss Smith, is it? I’m Stan Shaw with the Star.” He grins his dopey farmboy grin. “Your name is Star, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“This is Billy Leyton. He’s a photographer. You probably figured that out from the camera, right?”
Starla forces herself to chuckle. “That was a giveaway.”
“Good to meet you, Miss Smith,” Billy says. There’s nothing in his eyes to indicate he recognizes her.
“Would you like to sit down somewhere, Miss Smith?” Stan asks.
“We can do it here. If you don’t mind standing.”
“Not at all. Mrs. Hersch says you’ve been working here for a couple weeks now. How’d you happen to end up here?”
“Well, you can thank Greta for that. She’s the one who found me. Some nasty men were going to take advantage of me under a bridge, but she scared them off and brought me home. She really nursed me back to health. She even gave me her sister’s old clothes to wear.” Starla runs a hand along the outfit she wears, the same one as from that first day out. “And since I didn’t have a job or a place to stay, she let me work here. It’s been so nice. Everyone here has been wonderful.”
“How did you come to be under that bridge?”
Starla has expected this question. Stan was never the most tenacious reporter, but he wasn’t a complete softie either. “My parents died when I was young. I bounced around a few foster homes, until I got sick of it and ran away. I’d been living on the streets for a few years, struggling to get by. This is my first real job, if you can believe it.”
Stan doesn’t ask too many difficult questions. This is supposed to be a puff piece about a young girl turning her life around and all that. Larry probably gave it to him as an audition, to prove he still has the skills.
After the questions, she has to pose for a few pictures. Billy has her smile behind the counter for one. For another she stands by a clothing rack with one arm stretched out like one of those car show models. She insists they get one with Greta. “Can I get a print of that?” she asks.
“Sure thing,” Billy says. “What’s your address?”
She gives him Greta’s address. He scribbles this down on a notepad. Then he looks up and says, “I’d better get a phone number too.” His face reddens as he says this. He stammers, “If you don’t mind.”
Starla grins at him. From the redness in his face, she knows what he’s doing: he wants to ask her out! All that time they’ve spent as friends and now that she’s a scrawny little nobody, he gets the courage to make a move on her. “I’m not really sure. I can get it from Greta.”
“That would be great.”
“I’ll get you the store’s number too. In case I’m not home.” He visibly gulps at this. He’s smart enough to know she has intuited his plan and given him the go ahead. While it might be dangerous to go out with Billy, she can’t help herself. He’s so nice and considerate and smart—
“I’ll be back in a second,” she says.
As Greta is giving her the number, Starla realizes she’s not the only one making dating plans. Stan has his phone out and pressed to his ear. “Mancino’s? At nine? Sure, I’ll be done by then. See you later.”
Though Starla didn’t hear all the details, she’s pretty sure who Stan is talking to. Maybe after a year without him, Kate finally realized she cares more for Stan than for the scoop. Starla hopes so.
***
Elise doesn’t really want to attend the gathering, but it is a royal command that anyone who is able to must gather in the main square of Pacifica. The royal messenger delivered the decree that morning. She’s sure her family’s name was at the top of the list to be notified. It will be conspicuous to the new Lord Neptune if she’s not there.
That doesn’t mean she has to be in the front row. She floats near the back with Ariel in her arms. For the moment the baby is asleep, but she doubts she’ll stay asleep once everyone begins the mandatory cheering. They really should have kept the baby home, but who could they get to sit for her?
It certainly seems like all of Pacifica has gathered in the plaza. Elise looks around; this would be the perfect time for Killer Whale to strike. A few sharks and eponymous killer whales and he could take out much of the population before they could do anything. But no, Killer Whale is safely stashed away in Guantanamo.
A seashell trumpet sounds to indicate the start of the ceremony. The gates from the palace open to allow the parade through. There’s a manta ray pulling a giant shell carrying members of the royal council. A second one follows this, that traitor Baron Triton amongst them. Cheers go up from the crowd and predictably Ariel wakes up.
“It’s all right, baby,” Elise whispers. “Mama’s here.”
She pats the little girl’s back until she finally calms down. By then the last of the parade is through the gates. A pair of dolphins pull a shell, atop which are Mother and Lord Neptune. Mother’s face is stoic while Lord Neptune waves gleefully to the crowd. This is probably the biggest outpouring of support he has ever received. Elise figures this reaction isn’t so much because Mother and the council did a lousy job as the people are elated to have their figurehead back. Pacificans are slaves to tradition and even less open-minded than Rob Holloway, so they’re relieved to return to the status quo.
The dolphins carry Lord Neptune up to a podium made of coral Erek had hastily prepared. There are no microphones in technophobic Pacifica, so Lord Neptune has to speak loud to be heard in the back. “My people, I am so glad to be home at last. My wounds have healed and I am again ready to take my place on the throne, to guide Pacifica into a new age.”
Elise tries not to snort at this. If Lord Neptune is really like how she used to be, he’ll take the first chance he gets to slip off to San Francisco to find Paul. She hasn’t really thought about Paul until now. What will he think about this? Will he run into Neptune’s arms the way he used to? She can’t imagine it has been easy for him this last year; he, like the Pacificans, will probably be relieved to get back to the status quo.
“I’m grateful for the work the council has done in my stead, but the time has come for me to reclaim my rightful position. There is one matter that must be attended to first to make things official.” Lord Neptune looks over the crowd, but even from far away she can sense his eyes on her. “There has been a young girl calling herself the Mermaid who has defended Pacifica from threats on the surface. This girl has carried the royal trident, the ancient weapon given to me by my father and given to him from his father, on through the founding of Pacifica. I granted her the use of this weapon to keep my people safe in my stead, but now the time has come for her to return it so that my claim as the true ruler of Pacifica will be uncontested.”
Elise’s free hand clenches. She’d like nothing better than to swim away from here. Since Earth is about three-quarters water, it’d be easy enough for her to find somewhere to hide. But what about Erek and Ariel? She doesn’t want them to live on the run, fugitives from Lord Neptune and his royal guard.
She passes Ariel to her husband. The baby starts to cry again. Elise looks her in the eyes. “It’s all right. Mama will be right back.”
Ariel of course doesn’t believe her. She continues to shriek as Elise swims over the crowd. She lands at the
base of the podium. Mother comes up beside her. “Tread carefully, my daughter,” she whispers.
“I will.”
“Join me, young maiden,” Neptune says.
“I’m not a maiden,” she growls.
“Kneel before your king, girl.”
If they were on the surface she would spit in his face. Her fists clench again, as do her teeth. She can feel Mother’s eyes on her, urging her not to make trouble. Elise thinks of Ariel and Erek; then she kneels before Lord Neptune.
“You have done an adequate job protecting the realm. That time is now at an end. Return the trident to me.”
Elise wants to mutter some insult, but again she thinks of her family. She reaches to her belt to take the ordinary-looking seashell from it. She presses this into Lord Neptune’s hand. Then she looks down meekly at the coral.
Lord Neptune is of course smart enough to make sure it really is the trident and not a normal seashell. He holds the golden trident aloft so everyone can see it. Elise sneaks a glance at it before she resumes looking down at the coral.
Even with her eyes down, she can sense the tines of the trident inches away from her face. Lord Neptune leaves it there for an incredibly long time, as if he’s deciding whether or not to kill her. “We thank you for your service, girl. Return to your home with the king’s thanks.”
“Yes, my lord,” she mumbles.
“What was that?”
“Yes, my lord!” she shouts so Erek and Ariel can hear it in the back.
“Rise now, girl. Off you go.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
Her entire body shivers with cold as she swims back to where Erek and Ariel wait. Elise scoops up her daughter. “Mama’s here,” she whispers. “Everything’s all right.”
Then she swims like hell for home.
Chapter 12
In the last week, Robin has seen her male self only a handful of times. The mansion is big enough that they can easily avoid each other. They both seem content enough to do so.
Like little kids giving each other the silent treatment, they pass messages along through Jasper. Those messages are usually to coordinate it so they don’t have to see each other. For his part, the old butler seems to accept the stalemate.
When there’s a tap on the guest bedroom that’s become her home, Robin knows it’s Jasper. “Come in,” she says. She doesn’t look up from her iPad as he shuffles in. “So what’s the good word?”
“Master Holloway is down in the bunker.”
“Still trying to break my encryption?”
“Of course. I imagine if he’s really you he’ll figure it out eventually.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“And this doesn’t worry you?”
“It will help prove he’s actually me, won’t it?”
“I suppose so.”
She finally looks up from the iPad. “Did you actually want something? Or is this a social call?”
“From what I gather, this weekend is homecoming at MIT. I thought perhaps you might like to go visit young Miss Amis.”
“Something going on I should know about?”
“Of course not, Mistress Robin. I merely thought you might like to see your friend.”
“Melanie and I see each other all the time.”
“I thought perhaps you might like to meet in person instead of through a computer screen.”
She raises an eyebrow. “This guy’s got you worried, doesn’t he?”
“I worry that you aren’t worried enough about him. Have you considered what you might do if you were in his shoes, so to speak? What if you were still a man and a young girl claimed to be the real Midnight Spectre?”
“I’d find some way to prove she isn’t.”
“And how might you go about doing that?”
“They’ve already done plenty of tests on us back in Washington. They’re inconclusive.”
“Exactly. What would you do next?”
“I’d observe her to look for any giveaways.” She glances around the room. It wouldn’t be surprising if that male version of her had some bugs in here; her encryption locked out the computer and the vehicles but not the smaller items in the bunker. “If she runs away that would be a sure sign she’s an impostor, don’t you think?”
“Perhaps, but I still think it might behoove you to take a little vacation.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Very good.” Jasper nods to her and then leaves the room.
Robin waits until she’s alone before she picks up the iPad again. She activates the app to activate the sensory package she installed. After only thirty seconds, she finds it in the corner of the room. The object is the size and shape of a ball bearing, but in reality it’s a tiny video camera. No doubt the impostor is watching her right now. She smiles at him as she picks the bearing up. “Nice try, pal.”
Then she sets the camera on the ground. She stomps it with the heel of her sneaker. It doesn’t take much to destroy the camera. But this she knows is the first salvo in the war.
***
For their first date, Starla meets Billy at the same Chinese restaurant Greta took her to. She chose the location because it’s familiar and far away from anyone else who might recognize her. And it’s far from Stan Shaw and Kate King if they really are a couple now.
“This is a nice place,” Billy says. “Really cozy.”
By that she knows he thinks it’s a dump, but she appreciates how polite he is to lie about it. “My friend Greta took me here. The food is really good.” That’s her way to reassure him that dinner won’t be a total disaster.
After they sit down and order waters, Billy sets a manila envelope on the table. “I brought your pictures.”
“Oh, that’s so thoughtful.”
“I figured that way they wouldn’t get ruined in the mail.”
“Good thinking.” She opens the envelope and then reaches inside. The first picture is of her standing behind the counter, a goofy smile on her face. This is the first time she has seen her new self in a photo; the camera really emphasizes how young she looks. “Wow. These are really good.”
“Thanks. I’m glad they turned out.”
“So when does the article come out?”
“It should be in Thursday’s paper. I’ll make sure to save you a copy.”
“That’s all right, Greta is a subscriber.”
“Oh, well, that’ll be a lot easier then.”
“But it couldn’t hurt to have an extra. Then we can each have one.”
Billy’s face brightens. “That’s a good point.”
The waitress puts their waters in front of them. Starla picks up a menu to glance over it, though she already knows what’s written on it. She can sense the tension in the air between her and Billy. There’s more she wants to say, but she isn’t sure what; she suspects Billy feels the same way. They’re both holding back, relying on polite conversation instead of getting to the heart of things.
After they order, she scoops the pictures back into the envelope. She looks down at the table for a moment, waiting for him to say something. When he doesn’t, she forces the goofy smile from the photographs to her face. “Gee, you know all about me and I don’t know much about you at all.”
“There’s not much to tell,” he says, but then he tells her anyway. He grew up in Parkville, one of Atomic City’s suburbs. His grandmother bought him a camera for his sixth birthday, which ignited his love of photography. After his high school graduation he came to the big city to make his fortune as a photographer. “It hasn’t really panned out so far. Mr. Black still won’t hire me full-time.”
“I’m sure he will. You’re really talented.”
“Now that any kid with a cell phone can take a picture I guess guys like me are sort of dinosaurs.”
“You’re way too young to be a dinosaur.”
He laughs a little too hard at this joke; again she finds his politeness endearing. She doesn’t know why she didn’t see it th
is last year when they spent so much time together. “I’ve been thinking about going back to school. Maybe start with community college.”
“Greta’s been asking me about that too. We might end up in some of the same classes.”
“That would be funny. What are you thinking of studying?”
“I’m not sure,” Starla says. In fact she hasn’t given this thought much consideration. Working at Greta’s thrift store isn’t a long-term career. As Greta said it’s supposed to tide her over until she can get on her feet. “Maybe I’ll take some different classes to see what interests me. What about you?”
“Well, I was really good at science in school, so maybe I’ll take some classes in that. It’d have to be a better career than taking pictures, right?”
“Maybe.”
They continue the easy conversation through dinner. Only after the fortune cookies arrive do things get more serious. “I don’t suppose you’d like to get a drink?” Billy says.
“That’s kind of a problem. I don’t have an ID card yet and I don’t really look twenty-one do I?”
“Just think of all the money you’ll save on Botox when you get older.”
She laughs harder than she intended. “I hadn’t thought of that before.” She reaches across the table to pat his hand. “How about coffee? No ID needed.”
“That’s a great idea.”
“There’s a little diner around the corner. The coffee’s terrible, but it’s hot at least.”
They share a laugh. “That sounds great.”
In this neighborhood at this time of the evening there aren’t many people around. That makes the sound of footsteps behind them noticeable. Starla presses closer to Billy while turning her head slightly. There’s a young man in a dark blue sweatshirt behind them. He’s probably going home or maybe to work. She shouldn’t jump to conclusions.
But her instincts turn out to be right when they turn the corner to run into a second young man in a dark sweatshirt. This one pulls a gun from his baggy pants. “Money,” he growls.
Starla backs up a step only to be seized by the one behind them. She feels his warm breath on her neck; it smells like stale alcohol and marijuana. She’s painfully aware that he’s about a foot taller than her and from the grip on her arm, he’s a lot stronger too.
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