Girl Power Omnibus (Gender Swap Superhero Fiction)

by P. T. Dilloway

  Garlak grabbed both women by the hair. She slammed their heads together hard enough that both women would probably have a concussion. She held one up, her lip curling. “Shiny,” she said, admiring a dangling silver earring with a skull at the end of it. Before Melanie could stop her, Garlak tore the earring from the woman’s earlobe. It was just as well then the woman was already unconscious.

  “That went well,” Diane said.

  “Let’s get the bikes,” Melanie said. As with the mission in Focal City it hadn’t gone by the book, but it had gotten done. She supposed that was what counted in the end.

  ***

  Since Melanie didn’t know how to ride a motorcycle, she rode behind Diane on the bike. Garlak was on the other, the motorcycle wobbling and weaving as she attempted to ride it. Melanie had suggested the cavewoman walk, but she refused. In the end Melanie had relented.

  “I wish that damned weapon hadn’t made me so bloody short,” Diane grumbled as she drove. Melanie noted the way the girl leaned forward so her arms could reach the throttles while her feet were nowhere near the bottom.

  It reminded Melanie of the modifications Robin had needed to make on her motorcycles to accommodate her shorter frame. In the middle of those modifications, Robin had launched into a tantrum, throwing tools in every direction—including at Melanie’s head. Jasper had finally called in Dr. Hanover to talk Robin down.

  Diane pulled up near one of the terminals, where a bunch of the Amazonian bikers had gathered. They all wore variations of a grinning skull on their backs. Some of their jackets identified them as the Grinning Ghosts gang out of Toledo.

  A biker with badly dyed platinum hair and the muscles of a bodybuilder stood to greet them. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “We’re the Super Squad Auxiliary, love,” Diane said. “We’ve come to put a stop to whatever sort of monkey business you got going here.”

  “Super Squad Auxiliary? What kind of pansy gang is that?”

  “This kind.” In one swift move, Diane whipped out her gun and fired. Melanie gasped, worried the assassin would put a bullet in the biker’s forehead. She was relieved to see the bullet flatten the front tire of the biker’s motorcycle.

  “Come on, let’s teach these bitches a lesson,” the biker said.

  They advanced with chains, blackjacks, brass knuckles, and knives at the ready. Melanie brought her shuriken up to launch position while her other hand dug for her Taser. She knew things could get bloody pretty quick if Diane started to use her pistol on the bikers.

  They were saved when Garlak finally pulled up. She hopped off the bike and then let out another of her war cries. Diane backed the motorcycle up to give Garlak some room. Melanie watched as the cavewoman dove into the crowd of bikers. The chains, blackjacks, brass knuckles, and even the knives didn’t seem to affect her at all. About all it did was make Garlak angrier. After a few seconds of this, Melanie slipped the shuriken back into its pouch.

  “That was rather anticlimactic,” Diane said once the battle was over. Garlak stood over the pile of unconscious bikers, her body stained with blood, most of which was not hers. “I suppose now we mop up?”

  “Garlak, secure the perimeter. Diane and I will check out the terminal.”

  She wasn’t that surprised to find hundreds of civilians huddled in the terminal. They had probably all been here since the alien weapon went off, stranded when their planes were destroyed or the runways otherwise fouled up. Melanie didn’t know what had prompted a biker gang to claim this as their territory; it seemed the whole world had gone a bit nuts in the wake of the disaster.

  About the last thing she expected were the civilians to wail and sob as she and Diane approached. Some of them actually curled up into a ball as if they might be pummeled. A scrawny teenager in a TSA uniform shrieked, “Don’t hurt us! We’ll give you whatever you want!”

  “Have you gone daft?” Diane said. “We’re the good guys, er, girls.”

  A microphone at one airline gate caught Melanie’s eye. She was relieved to find the microphone still worked. “Attention passengers,” she said. “I am Outcast, commander of the Super Squad Auxiliary. As of now you are free to go.”

  “Go where?” someone asked.

  That was a very good question. Melanie knew the situation had just got a lot more complicated than she had hoped.

  ***

  It took the rest of the day—and night—to get everything sorted out. Melanie and Diane surveyed the civilians to locate any pilots. Meanwhile, Garlak cleared wreckage from a couple of the runways. There were still plenty of planes left capable of flying; they just needed crews, fuel, and a clear runway.

  The most difficult part was telling everyone they couldn’t go home. Melanie was grateful the alien weapon had turned most everyone into cowards or else she would have had to deal with a riot. As it was, the women whined and complained, but they did as they were told.

  “You’re sure about this?” Diane asked.

  “Focal City’s probably the safest place for them now that Inertia’s gone.”

  “Doesn’t seem much better than leaving them here.”

  “There will be a lot more supplies in Focal City.”

  “I suppose.”

  Melanie wasn’t really sure about her plan, but no one else seemed to have a better idea. While Garlak had taken care of the biker gang haunting the area, there was no guarantee they—or someone worse—wouldn’t fill the vacuum as soon as the Super Squad Auxiliary left. At times like this, she longed to be a sidekick again, to let Starla, Sally, and Robin handle all the hard stuff.

  That wasn’t possible. She was being forced to grow up now, to step up as a heroine in her own right. She wished it hadn’t come in a baptism of fire like this. She wished she still had a safety net, someone experienced to lean on for guidance. All she had were three villains turned heroes and a Pacifican ambassador.

  “You all right, love? You look a bit piqued.”

  “I’m fine. A little tired.”

  “Should be a motel around here if you want to take a load off.”

  “I can’t. There’s too much to do.”

  “The world isn’t going to fall apart if you take a nap, love. Not more than it already is.”

  “I guess a nap wouldn’t hurt.” Melanie looked around. She decided to stretch out on a row of empty seats in a terminal. As she closed her eyes, she hoped Diane and Garlak would still be here when she woke up.

  ***

  Sunlight flooded the terminal, some of it bathing Melanie’s face. She reached out with one hand to find Robin’s warm, comforting body. Instead she punched the back of a chair. Melanie groaned and then swung her body into a sitting position.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” Diane said. She lazed on another row of seats, the latest Stephen King book in her hands. “Have any nice dreams?”

  “Not really.” Melanie looked around the terminal; it seemed empty except for her and Diane. “Where is everyone?”

  “Planes took off about an hour ago. Went off without a hitch.”

  “And you didn’t think to wake me?”

  “Didn’t seem much point to it. I figured you could use the rest.”

  Melanie ran a hand through her hair, trying to smooth it down. After everything that had happened, she had been asleep when the big moment came. “Where’s Garlak?”

  “Ransacking a Cinnabon last I saw her.”

  “What about the bikers?”

  “They’re locked up in a hangar. Not sure what you expect us to do with them.”

  “Nothing right now, I suppose. Leave them some food and water and wait until we can find some proper authorities to fetch them.”

  “Capital idea.” Diane turned a page in her book.

  “What about you? Did you get any sleep?”

  “I’ll sleep on the plane.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For keeping this little circus running. You could have taken off—”

  “So y
ou could blow my head off? I’d rather keep it if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure.” Melanie couldn’t stop herself from smiling. For all she might have done in her past, Diane did have a good heart. Tonya too. Even Garlak—in her own way. Maybe this crazy idea of Melanie’s could actually work. Maybe these villains could actually save the world.

  She hoped so. If they couldn’t, there wasn’t anyone left to do it for them.

  ***

  They returned to Tonya’s workshop around noon. The jetcopter’s tank was full again, with more than enough fuel to get them to Atomic City. As she’d promised, Diane fell asleep the moment they took off from the airport. When the girl closed her eyes she looked so innocent it was hard to believe she was a trained killer.

  A loud rumble came from the cargo area. It wasn’t until they landed that Melanie could confirm it was from Garlak snoring. Melanie decided to let both women sleep; they had certainly earned it in the last two days.

  As she stepped over Garlak’s prone body, she noticed the earrings dangling from the cavewoman’s ears. She had probably a dozen necklaces draped over her neck and a half-dozen bracelets on each wrist. Melanie wasn’t sure who had pierced Garlak’s ears but she felt sorry for whoever had to try to make a hole in the cavewoman’s lobes.

  She didn’t recognize Tonya when she stepped into the workshop. The girl’s hair was cut shorter, to the middle of her neck, and dyed a dark blue. She sported a stud in her left nostril and wore a pair of white-framed glasses that Melanie doubted were prescription. Contrasting the hair and nose stud was a lavender My Little Pony T-shirt with matching shoes.

  “What do you think?” Tonya asked, doing a little turn. “Paul called it ‘geek chic.’”

  “It’s cool,” Melanie said. “I thought you were working on your other outfit.”

  “We finished that yesterday. We got bored waiting for you to come back so we raided the mall. It was like Dawn of the Dead in there. So what took you so long?”

  Melanie described their last twenty-four hours at the airport. While she talked, Paul joined them. She was glad to see he’d picked up a polo shirt and cargo shorts to cover himself. After she finished, he said, “I guess it was lucky we decided to visit.”

  “Uh-huh.” Melanie stared down at her feet as she thought. “Do you think we should go on to Atomic City? There’s so much ground we need to cover, so many places where we’re needed.”

  Paul put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re the one in charge. We’ll go wherever you decide.”

  “That’s right, boss,” Tonya added. “Point me in the right direction.”

  Melanie sighed, again wishing someone could take this burden from her, or at least give her some advice. All her time on the Super Squad had never prepared her for anything like this. She felt as if she were making it all up as she went. Well, her instincts had gotten her this far, right? “We’ll set out for Atomic City as soon as all your gear is aboard.”

  “Right on, chief.” Tonya practically skipped away to begin packing up her gear.

  Paul put a hand on Melanie’s shoulder. “You’re doing great so far.”

  “You think so?”

  “I don’t think Robin could have done it any better.”

  “I don’t know about that. Robin has a lot more training about strategy.”

  “Come on, look what you’ve done so far. You got three supervillains working together as a team of superheroes. You saved Focal City and all those people at the airport. You’re a natural at this.”

  “I hope so. I don’t want to let everyone down.”

  “You’re not.”

  Melanie nodded, but she wasn’t so sure. She was glad when Tonya pranced in, wearing her new armor. It was far more streamlined than before so that it fit almost as snugly as Melanie’s costume. She noticed Tonya had painted the trim of the suit the same blue as her hair. She did a little twirl as she had earlier. “You like it?”

  “It looks great. When this is over, I might ask you to make one for me.”

  “I’m not giving away any trade secrets like that. Come on, let’s get to Atomic City so I can try this baby out.”

  “Lead on,” Melanie said with a smile.

  Chapter 13

  When Killer Whale woke up, she wasn’t surprised to find herself in a prison cell. That it was a Pacifican prison cell didn’t come as a surprise either. It would have been far more surprising if her sister hadn’t imprisoned her.

  They had let her continue to wear her costume, at least for the time being. She did a lazy circle around the cell to exercise her new muscles—or lack thereof. Her circle was a little unsteady from the difference in buoyancy thanks to the milkbags on her chest. Gold hair kept getting in her eyes too; she wished they could give her a razor to hack it off.

  A slot in the door opened to allow breakfast to be shoved through. Scallops and seaweed—she did not miss the diet in Pacifica. Her tiny stomach growled to indicate it was hungry. Killer Whale plucked the food from where it floated and then began to shovel it into her mouth. At least that process wasn’t much different, except for her daintier fingers.

  She had finished the last scallop when her sister asked, “How do you like the new body so far?”

  “I don’t know how you can stand to live this way. It’s disgusting.”

  “You’ll get used to it. For as long as you have left.”

  “Are you planning to execute me, sister?”

  “Perhaps. Letting you live like this might be more of a punishment.”

  “You’re still weak. I kept hearing how strong you’d become since reclaiming the throne, but now I see it was a lie. You’re as pathetic as you always have been.”

  “Says the girl in the dungeon cell.”

  “It won’t be much longer until the rest of the kingdom sees it. Then it’ll be your head on a pike at the gates. Yours and your daughter’s.”

  Her sister pressed closer to the door. “You threaten my daughter again and I’ll cut you up for shark bait.”

  “How long do you think you can keep her safe? There are so many who would think nothing of killing a usurper’s daughter.”

  Queen Neptune brought out the royal trident. It glowed yellow in her hands. Killer Whale braced for the door to open and her life to end. After a few seconds, Queen Neptune let the trident shrink back into an ordinary-looking seashell. “Keep talking, sister. We’ll see whose head ends up on a pike.”

  Queen Neptune shoved something through the slit. It unfurled into an ordinary gray dress, the kind a common woman would wear. “Put that on.”

  “Never.”

  “You can put it on yourself or I’ll have my guards do it for you.”

  The only thing more humiliating than wearing a commoner’s dress would be to have a half-dozen men stuff her into it. She growled a few curse words under her breath and then turned so her back faced Queen Neptune. “I’m sure you’re enjoying this. Oh, that’s right, you never liked women, did you?”

  “Especially not women like you.”

  Killer Whale was glad for the water all around her so her sister couldn’t see her tears at being reduced to a common woman. She hurled her old costume towards the slit in the door. “There you go. Happy now?”

  “I’ll be happier when you’re dead,” Queen Neptune said. She yanked the costume through the slit and then swam away. Killer Whale’s delicate fists clenched, but there was nothing she could do except break them against the walls. She returned to her bed to let the covers disguise what she had become.

  ***

  Robin and Dr. Hanover appropriately rode in the back of a school bus with the other kids from the asylum. There were three buses in all, each one filled with young women and girls who’d been given a makeover by Ms. Cash. It didn’t help Robin’s self-esteem much that every girl had her face painted in one childish fashion or another.

  Dr. Hanover remained the sullen teenager she’d been once Ms. Cash had finished with her. She plodded along after the others, hardly sayin
g anything. If Robin tried to ask her something, Dr. Hanover would shrug or mumble a monosyllabic reply. At the moment Dr. Hanover read a biography of One Direction; God only knew where she’d found that.

  They were unlucky enough to have Clownface on their bus. She insisted on singing children’s songs that the other girls sang with all the feeling of a funeral dirge. Clownface didn’t notice this, or she reveled in how awful it sounded.

  The bus crawled along the Kane Bridge, which led to Finger Island, so called because it resembled an index finger pointing out to sea. The island had once been a hub of activity, but in the last twenty years it had fallen on hard times. It was the old story of plants shuttering to move south or to the Far East, followed closely by those residents who could afford to seek greener pastures elsewhere.

  She didn’t have any idea why Clownface would take them here. Was she planning to hold them hostage? Or was she going to torture them all until she got bored? Either scenario was possible with Clownface, whose bipolar personality was unfortunately tied to an intellect close to the genius range. That was what had made her such a dangerous opponent over the years.

  “Are we there yet?” one of the younger girls whined.

  Clownface interrupted a dreary version of “Wheels on the Bus” to say, “Very soon, my pretties. Then I promise we’re all going to have lots of fun!”

  Robin shivered at the thought of what sort of fun Clownface would have with them. It was unlikely to be good for any of them. She nudged Dr. Hanover’s arm. “When we get there, stay close to me.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Kitty—”

  “I’m busy.”

  Robin sighed. She turned back to her window. Clownface’s destination came in sight. Robin wondered why she hadn’t thought of it earlier. The painted faces, the school buses, the promises of fun, it all pointed to one location: Finger Island Funland.

  The amusement park had once been a rival to Coney Island, until Clownface unleashed a half-dozen clown-shaped bombs loaded with nerve gas. The catastrophic death toll, the images of it broadcast for weeks on every network news program, sent the amusement park into a spiral from which it never recovered. No surprise then that she would bring them here. Returning to the scene of the crime as it were.