Another voice, a much angrier voice, entered the fray. “Where is my sister?” A redheaded woman with a golden crown on her head stomped into view.
“She hasn’t woke up yet,” the merman said.
“I don’t care. I’m taking her and then we’re leaving.”
“What? You can’t leave—”
“I can and we will. I have to get my sister into the dungeon, where she can’t cause more trouble.”
“What about the Velocity Gals? What about the rest of the world? It’s in a shambles right now.”
“I don’t care.” The angry woman leveled a finger at the merman. “I’ve told you before: I don’t care about this surface world. As soon as I have Killer Whale, I’m leaving. Let them clean up their own messes.”
“Queen Neptune, please. We need your help, until we can find the others,” Outcast pleaded.
“No. This world isn’t my problem anymore.” Queen Neptune stomped down the hallway. Hitter heard a door open. This was accompanied by a girl’s scream.
“What did you do to me?” the girl shouted. “You made me like you. You—” Hitter heard a familiar squeal of pain she knew came from a woman being hit in the face.
“Take her,” Queen Neptune growled. A minute later Hitter saw a blond girl wearing Killer Whale’s outfit be dragged past the cells by a couple of Pacifican warriors.
The queen stopped at the merman with Outcast. “Are you coming?”
“No. This is still my world too. I’m going to try saving it.”
“Suit yourself.”
Hitter waited until she heard the footsteps fade away before she said, “Looks like you two are on your own now.”
“Shut up,” Outcast snapped.
A primal scream came from a cell down the hall. Hitter knew who that must be. She didn’t want to imagine what Neanderthal would look like as a woman. “What happen to me?” a doltish feminine voice shouted.
“I’ll go get a sedative,” Outcast said. She bolted while the entire brig reverberated from Neanderthal pounding on the walls or door to her cell.
“Better hurry, love,” Hitter snapped. She dropped back onto her bunk to wait.
***
Rad Geiger stood over a cowering girl in a prison guard’s uniform. From the smell of it, the girl had actually wet her pants when Geiger came up to her with only her clenched fists as weapons. “The whole world is going to bow like you,” Geiger whispered into the girl’s ear. Then she bent down to take the guard’s baton and pistol.
Thus armed, Geiger headed for the nearest exit. Along the way she stopped to admire herself in a mirror. For the first time in forty years, her scalp had hair on it, ashen locks that went down to porn star breasts. She certainly made a beautiful woman.
By all rights Geiger should be blubbering in her cell like most of these other fools, but her mind was quick enough to grasp the opportunity. The authorities wouldn’t be able to recognize her, not like this. That would give her a chance to start her work again and this time do it right.
That had been her initial goal. Then she saw the way the guards cowered at the slightest provocation. When they’d lost their literal balls they’d apparently lost their figurative ones too. Again Geiger’s mind was quick enough to see the advantage. If the whole island—perhaps the whole world—were like this, then she could do far more than burrow into some dingy lab to continue her work. She could name herself Queen of the World! Who would stop her?
A young Asian girl peered out from her cell. “Geiger?” she asked.
“Who are you?”
“Icicle. Or, I was at any rate.” The girl’s slanted eyes turned wet with tears.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart. You can still be Icicle. You can be whatever you want now. The world is our proverbial oyster.”
“What are you talking about?”
Geiger led Icicle to the nearest guard. She shouted, “Boo!” The guard collapsed to the floor in a shivering heap. “The fight’s gone all out of them.”
“They’re all like this?”
“All of them I’ve seen.”
“Holy shit. It’s unbelievable.”
“It’s a miracle, my dear. Now, if you come with me, we will remake the world in our image.”
“But isn’t there some way to change ourselves back?”
“Back? Why would you want to change yourself back?” Geiger bent down to plant a violent kiss on the girl’s lips. The girl struggled at first, but then she gave in. Once Geiger released her, Icicle took a step back and then brushed a sweep of black hair from her face. “Now what do you think?”
“I…I guess this isn’t so bad.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Geiger bent down to retrieve the guard’s weapons. She handed these to Icicle. “These should suffice until we can fix you up with something better. Now come, the world waits for us to claim it.”
Geiger and her new sidekick marched out of the prison, to one of the SUVs the guards used. With that they should be able to get to a boat that could take them to land so they could embrace their destiny.
Chapter 8
Starla stared at the vats of what passed for food in the prison cafeteria. She wasn’t sure if any of it was safe for human consumption. She looked from a pot of green sludge to a bowl of worm-like creatures that were still alive. Another vat contained something that actually sparked with electricity. Starla finally settled on a white, creamy substance.
It looked like cream but it smelled like sweaty athletic socks left beneath a heater for six weeks. Starla’s stomach churned at the thought of putting this in her body. She had to eat something, or else she’d die before they got a chance to execute her.
On her way to a table, she found herself tumbling forward. Starla landed hard on the floor, her bowl of slop bouncing away from her to spill on the floor. She watched it actually burn a hole in the metal floor.
An insect-like limb swatted the side of Starla’s head. She scrambled to her feet, her fists clenched. She saw what looked like a giant walking housefly in front of her. She didn’t have any experience with giant walking houseflies, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t happy with her.
The fly buzzed something at her. A silver disc on the lapel of Starla’s red jumpsuit said, “You should watch your step, meatbag.”
“Thanks for the advice.” Starla bent down to pick up the now-empty bowl. She supposed the insect had actually done her a favor by spilling the toxic “food.”
Another of the insect’s limbs swiped at Starla. This time she caught it with one hand. As Apex Girl it would have been easy enough for her to flip the fly over her shoulder a good hundred yards. In her current state she couldn’t even flip him over. Her feeble attempts only let the insect yank the limb away to slap her across the face.
“Puny meatbag. You Kor-Gans are only tough when you have a swarm of destroyers behind you, like the destroyers that ruined my world.”
“My people didn’t do that,” Starla said. She wondered if this insect were going to testify against her at the trial.
“You destroyed my planet!” the insect shrieked. It charged at her, its limbs flailing. Starla tried to back away, but someone else grabbed her, pinning her arms behind her back.
“Death to Kor-Gan!” a squid-like alien hissed into her ear.
The insect’s limbs pounded her again and again in the midsection, until Starla coughed up blood. She struggled in vain against the squid, but she was much too weak now to break its grip. As her vision dimmed, she thought of Billy. She lamented they would never have more than that one night together as husband and wife—
A purple bubble formed around the insect. The bubble zipped away, taking the insect with it. Then the squid cried out with pain. Its grip finally loosened to allow Starla to collapse onto the floor. She crawled away, beneath a table.
She remained cowering there until a purple hand took hers. “It is all right, Gor-Bul. You will not be harmed any further.”
Kila helped Starla to her feet. Starla tried t
o hug her rescuer, but the alien shoved her back. “I will take you to the infirmary to have your wounds treated.”
“Thank you.”
“I did not do it for you. I would be remiss in my duties if I did not get you to your trial.”
“Well, thank you anyway.”
A bubble formed around Starla to whisk her away to a room with beds and various tanks of liquid or goo. A silver robot similar to those in the Crystal Lair scanned Starla’s body. It motioned for her to sit on a bed.
As Starla let the robot work, she turned to find Kila next to her. “My people have a lot of enemies, don’t they?”
“As soon as word of your capture got out, there were many who urged for you to receive a speedy execution.”
“Not speedy enough for some, I guess.”
Kila raised a silver eyebrow. “I find your levity strange.”
“It’s just gallows humor.”
‘“Gallows humor?”’
“Laughing in the face of death. It’s how people on Earth appear to have courage in a terrible situation.”
“It is an odd concept.”
“I suppose it is.” Starla stared up at the ceiling. “Did you get those documents from the Elders yet?”
“It will take some time.”
“Will you have them before or after my execution?”
“Is that more gallows humor?”
“It’s more like cynicism. Are you familiar with that?”
“Yes. It is a prevailing emotion on Earth, is it not?”
“Probably.”
“Humans are such immature creatures. It appears your own growth has been stunted by living with them.” Kila studied Starla for a moment. “I always thought Kor-Gans would be a much more difficult foe. The stories I read of your world made you seem far more formidable.”
“I don’t think of myself as Kor-Gan. I think of myself as human. That’s how I was raised.”
“A very perplexing way to view the situation.”
Starla laughed slightly, a pain shooting through her midsection. “I was brought up as a human. It wasn’t until I was twelve years old that I found out I was an alien. Even then, I didn’t usually think of myself that way.”
“But you were different from the humans, were you not?”
“Yes, and I guess sometimes I did see myself as separate from them, but most of the time I was one of them. That’s why I fought to protect them.”
“That is an admirable sentiment. It may prompt the Elders to be lenient in your punishment.”
“There really is no way out of it, is there?”
“It is highly unlikely.”
“Hasn’t anyone ever proven their innocence?”
“Not in my memory. I could consult the records—”
“That’s all right.” Starla felt another pain when she sighed. “How long have you been a Galactic Peacekeeper?”
Kila considered this. “It would be twelve of your years on Earth.”
“Is that a long time?”
“Not as long as many.”
“Like Sulfam?”
“Indeed.”
“Did you always want to be a police officer?”
“That is not a relevant question.”
“I guess not. I thought perhaps it might help to know more about my counsel. It might at least help entertain me before they kill me.”
Kila took a seat on a bed facing Starla. “I did not choose to be a Galactic Peacekeeper. The honor was given to me. There is one Peacekeeper per each member of the Galactic Order. When the Peacekeeper of my world was killed, a new one was selected. All those of age on my planet were given a series of tests to judge mental acumen, physical prowess, and magical aptitude.”
“And you were at the top of your class?”
“Yes.” Kila looked down at the floor. “I was little more than a child then. It was a difficult transition. Commander Sulfam was instrumental in my success as my mentor.”
“It doesn’t sound like you really wanted the job.”
“I did not think myself worthy of it.”
“And now?”
“That is not for me to say.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“You do not need to apologize. I should expect such impertinent questions from someone raised on a backwater planet like Earth.”
Despite the pain it brought, Starla laughed at this. Kila was a lot less stiff than she tried to appear. “So it was Sulfam who taught you how to make magic bubbles and put people to sleep and all that?”
“For the most part, yes. He is a very good teacher.”
“You seem like a good student, too.”
“I try to reward the Elders’s faith in me.”
The robot buzzed something at Kila. “It says it is time to administer your treatment.”
Before Starla could say anything, the robot jammed a syringe in her side. She managed a whimper before she passed out.
***
Allison tripped over something to end up in grass almost as tall as she was. She panted and wiped at sweat along her forehead. Once she had enough air in her lungs, she called out, “Sally?”
“I’m…over…here,” Sally called back.
Allison got to her feet, standing on her toes so she could see Sally waving to her. She was too exhausted to use her superspeed to go over to Velocity Gal. “Where are we? A jungle?”
“I don’t think so,” Sally said. “Look.”
She motioned up towards the sky. Allison turned and gasped. She recognized the skyline of Focal City, her home for most of her life. Except now the buildings of that skyline were in a severe state of disrepair. Windows were smashed, roofs were torn off, and some even had vines running up the sides. The jungle she recognized as the park where she and Sally took Jenny to play. Amongst the chin-high grass were still the slides, monkey bars, and swings.
“What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know. I guess we better find out.”
“You’re the boss.”
As they started out, Sally said, “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”
“What?”
“Say stuff like that. We both know you’re the real boss.”
“Sally—”
“I’m the real sidekick. Everyone knows that.”
“What brought this on?”
“I guess it was that fight at headquarters.”
“You did pretty good against them.”
“Pretty good. You would have done better. I mean, if you were still Velocity Gal.”
Allison said nothing. These outbursts happened a few times a year for the last three years. Most of the time Sally seemed fine with her superhero role, but on some occasions—usually after a setback—she questioned herself. “I wasn’t that great a Velocity Gal. Or Velocity Man.”
“You’re too modest.”
“Look, let’s focus on finding out what’s going on here. There’s plenty of time for us to decide who’s the crappiest superhero later, OK?”
“OK.” Sally grinned at her. “You’re pretty smart for a kid.”
“Thanks. Are you ready to run?”
“Let’s do it.”
They broke into a superspeed run across the rest of the park. They stopped in front of Grant Laboratories, where Allison had worked before she became a teenager. The building was as dilapidated as the others, the front doors off their hinges. There were no lights on inside; they would have to find a flashlight if they wanted to do any exploring.
“Ally, look at this!”
Allison turned to see Sally holding up a yellowed newspaper. At the top was one word in gigantic letters: DOOMSDAY!
The article was sparse on details, but apparently days after Earth’s population became entirely female, an alien ship showed up in space. From that ship came waves of smaller craft that easily overwhelmed Earth’s few remaining defenders. At the bottom of the article was a plea from the newspaper’s editor for anyone still reading this to get in a shelter and pray.
“Everyone’s dead,” Sally whispered.
“That can’t be. Not everyone. There have to be survivors.”
“Then let’s start looking.”
Chapter 9
In two days the world had completely unraveled. Melanie had fixed up the control room enough that she could watch the end of the world. There were still a few newsfeeds operating; female anchors in ill-fitting men’s suits or teenage girls in dowdy clothes too big for them reported all manner of manmade disasters happening. Planes had crashed when their systems shorted and their pilots passed out. Cars met the same fate when their drivers passed out.
This was only the beginning. Perhaps the worst thing was that the military, police, and fire departments were all incapacitated. Kate King, now a fat, acne-scarred teenager, reported firefighters actually ran away from fires and police fled from any dangerous situations. In becoming women or becoming younger women, everyone had lost their courage.
Or most everyone. Whatever had afflicted normal people hadn’t affected the world’s supervillains. As a result, they had easily taken control of America’s most populous cities. A voluptuous blond woman claiming to be Rad Geiger actually broadcast from the Oval Office, declaring herself the new Queen of the World. This was disputed by the likes of now-General Carnage, Empress Inertia, and Lady Beelzebub, who each had their own territories.
“It’s unbelievable,” Paul said. “We have to do something.”
Melanie nodded. They had to do something, but without Apex Girl, the Velocity Gals, Midnight Spectre, and Queen Neptune what could they do? “Maybe you could go talk to Elise. If she saw what was happening—”
“She won’t help. Not until they threaten Pacifica.”
“Then maybe we need to make that happen.”
“You mean stage an attack on Pacifica?”
“That would get her into the game, wouldn’t it?”
“If she finds out, she’d kill us.”
“Isn’t it worth the risk?”
“I’m not sure Elise would be much better than any of these nuts at this point.”
“You think she’d declare herself Queen of the World?”
“No, but I don’t think she’d discriminate much between civilians and criminals.” Paul sighed. “You don’t understand. She hates the people on the surface. It doesn’t matter that it was her clone who killed her husband and mother; she blames the surface people for creating the clone in the first place.”
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