by R. J. Ross
“She’s tellin’ the truth,” Rochester says quietly. “Mastermental terrifies her, so she’s doin’ her best t’ work with us… at least that’s how she sees it, anyway, since we got ‘ere. That’s what makes it so… acidic.”
The monkey moves closer, sitting on Phoebe’s lap, and she reaches up, petting it. To her surprise, though, the monkey’s mouth opens and Nico’s voice comes out. “Hello, Phoebe,” he says. “This isn’t the monkey talking, by the way, I’m just using it as a comm. Rochester says you’re telling the truth about staying out of super hero business, Mastermental agrees. I believe them. I want to keep believing them. This little monkey is one of my Artificial Intelligence creatures. He’s the same as a young child right now. I expect you to treat him well, understand?”
“So he’s a robot?” she asks.
“He’s a thinking machine. He learns, he reacts, and he might get into trouble once in a while, if the others are any example. If you break him, I’ll sue you for several million in repairs. But if you do want to hire him out for a movie that you’re working on, call me, I’ll see about making sure the cameras don’t pick up on when his eyes glow.”
“So… I can?” she asks, looking stunned.
“Why not?” he says. “It’s part of the world you’ve chosen. Of course, you’d have to be on the set with him. You’ll be his official trainer. The check-ins with Jimmi and Rochester will continue, though, no matter where you are, but you know that. In fact, you’re a smart girl, I think you’ve already figured out what I’m not saying, as well.”
“You’re going to be watching me all the time, thanks to the monkey?” she says.
“Exactly,” he agrees, “and Jimmi won’t have to call Mastermental. I’ll do it for her.”
“I understand,” she says, staring at the monkey with a mix of worry and fascination. “He would be perfect for children’s movies, wouldn’t he?”
“He’d probably enjoy it,” Nico agrees. “One more thing; if you try to mess with either Jimmi’s or Rochester’s mind, Mastermental will find out. You don’t want that to happen, now do you?”
She pales slightly. “I’ll… I’ll behave,” she says.
“Good,” he says. The monkey closes his mouth and tilts his head, looking up at her curiously. He lets out a little cooing sound before jumping onto her shoulder and patting her cheek with a paw. Slowly, Phoebe reaches up and scratches him on the neck.
“He feels so real,” she says. “This will be a nice little source of income, as well. He needs a name…”
Someone knocks on the door and I turn, watching as Crashtastic sticks his head into the room. “Have they released you, yet?” he asks.
“We just need to have the nurses look her over,” I say, watching him stare at the monkey with a hint of confusion, “then they should release her to go back to the set.”
Phoebe looks at me. I can see by the look on her face that she wants to say something, but she doesn’t know how to put it. Instead, she stands, patting the monkey to make sure he doesn’t fall off. “I’m ready to go, Ben,” she says, walking over to Crashtastic and hugging him. She leans her head against his chest and looks over at me. “We might not be innocent Burnout, but we live extremely long lives. Spending all that time hating ourselves for one mistake, big or not, seems like a lot of wasted time.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” I ask her.
“Both,” she admits. “Forget the nurses, I’m perfectly fine, no, I’m better than fine. Let’s get out of here.” She tugs him out of the room, not even looking back at us. I let out a sigh as soon as I’m sure she’s far enough away, falling into the chair, and covering my face with my hands.
“Was that what you were trying to tell me?” I ask Rochester, my voice muffled.
“Ya ain’t…” he hesitates, and I can practically hear him trying to word his next sentence. “She was right… y’ still blame yerself, an’ it ain’t gonna help anythin’,” he says, sitting on the other chair. “I c’n help ya.”
“Can you help her? I know Mastermental is going to act as her therapist, but… I’m not sure how much he wants to actually help. I got the feeling he was just planning on keeping her in check,” I say, looking up.
He opens his mouth, but before he can go on, someone starts to scream. I rush out the door, heading for the direction that I know Phoebe had gone. The closer I get to them, the more the nurses are screaming, shaking in terror. The black suits that were standing guard rush into the group, intent on keeping people from hurting themselves. I find Phoebe, floating a foot off the ground. I jump, tackling her. “What are you think—” I stop myself, because even I can tell she’s not there. She doesn’t even respond to me. I glance over at Crashtastic, who’s knocked out on the ground next to her, and then I look down at Phoebe’s body, checking her power levels. It’s still not right, I realize. I should have noticed it earlier, but she launched into an attack so quickly that I didn’t even think of it. It’s still not flowing like it should, naturally. It’s no wonder that she’s lost control.
I hear a curse and Rochester appears next to me, placing his hand on Phoebe’s forehead. He shudders, and I see his eyes start to roll back into his head. I tap on my commlink. “We need some super backup here!” I say, “Phoebe’s powers aren’t back properly. She’s going out of control.”
There’s one thing I can do, I think, hesitating for all of a second. I can boost her straight on. If it doesn’t work how I think it will, it might cause some very nasty mental backlash. If it does work, she’ll be more powerful than ever for a short amount of time. Either way, this will get worse before it can get better. I start to work, only to yelp as the monkey launches himself at my hand, bumping against my commlink.
The E.P.B. goes off as he shrieks at me. I barely hear it as Phoebe’s powers hit me. I barely feel Rochester reach out, grabbing my hand, as well.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I need to yell at Nico for the monkey, I think as I sit up. It needs to be better disciplined. Then again, he did say it was like a child, right now, so maybe it thought I was attacking its mom? That’s a bit scary…
There’s a freaky face floating right in front of me. For a moment I just stare at it, trying to figure out where the rest of its body is. I have no idea, and staring at it isn’t giving me an answer, so I poke it. It dissolves, like a reflection in water being hit with a stone. “Where the heck am I?” I ask, only to wince as my voice is greeted by screams. I stand, and shadowy figures swirl around me, dissolving just like the first one had whenever I touch them.
“I didn’t know,” I hear a little girl say. “I didn’t know…” It seems to echo all around me, but before I can find a source, I see Max’s little sister, Layne, standing in the distance. The half-formed images are swirling around her, and she starts to cower, screaming with her hands over her ears. “Stop,” the little girl’s voice whispers. “Stop it…”
“NOOOO!” Layne screams.
“I want to save her…” the little girl says. “I can’t save her. He’s already done it. I saw it, I felt it, he’ll do it to me… She’s—”
I run towards Layne, waving my arms wildly to fight back the shadows attacking. They dissolve, but just as quickly as they’re gone, more appear. I shove my way through them, wrapping my arms around the little girl, only to stare in shock as I realize that it isn’t Layne, it’s Phoebe. She looks at me with tears in her eyes. “Take my powers away, again,” she begs me. “I don’t want to go through this. I’d rather be a norm! Why is this happening to me? Why did he make it so I can feel it?”
I turn, looking at the figures more closely. Each one is of someone hurting, or screaming, or dying. They aren’t the fake scenes you see in the movies, they’re real people, people that the doctors and nurses had tried desperately to help, but couldn’t. “Have you ever thought that maybe there’s a better use for your powers?” I ask her, taking her face in my hands. “Have you ever thought of helping people through their nightm
ares instead of making them worse?”
She stares at me, and I can see that the question shocked her. “I wasn’t—I’m not—”
“Your boyfriend is knocked out next to you, Phoebe. I bet he tried to grab you and got a full backlash. The doctors, the nurses, even the patients, they’re all reliving their worst moments on the job, and it’s your fault. You need to get it together!” I say.
“I used… I used to enjoy this,” she says. “But then he made me feel it… how can anyone live this way?” she asks, waving at the ghostly horrors all around us. I think that to her, they’re much, much more realistic.
“Look at it, Phoebe, an’ don’t y’ dare look away,” Rochester says from behind her. “This is real life. This is whut they go through every single day.”
“How can you be so calm? You can easily pick up on all of this, just by touching something!” she snaps at him. “This is NOTHING like the movies!”
“It ain’t,” Rochester agrees, “it’s reality. I see reality ever’ time I walk down a crowded street. Ever’ time I touch a door handle.”
“Phoebe, your powers are still messed up,” I tell her, when she falls silent for a moment. “I might be able to regulate it, but I have to be in my body, in reality, to do it. You need to take control of your powers, Phoebe, and it might be hard, but you can do it.”
“What happened t’ yer E.P.B.?” Rochester asks me.
“The monkey hit it,” I mutter, irritably.
“I… yes. I can try,” Phoebe says. “I didn’t mean to do this, you know,” she adds defensively.
“We’re sitting in your mind, Phoebe,” I point out, “you were crying. We know it wasn’t on purpose.”
“Well… as long as you know that,” she says, closing her eyes and holding out her hands slowly. One by one, the phantoms that surround us disappear. Her eyes open, again, and she looks at me. “Get out, Jimmi,” she says, pressing her hand against my chest. I go flying backwards, as fast as if Skye had just punched me.
I open my eyes, only to see Max appear in front of me, his hand still on his watch. “Max,” I say, staggering slightly as I get to my feet. “It wasn’t on purpose. The shot of power—” I don’t have time to explain, I realize. I turn on my E.P.B. and reach forward, tossing the monkey to him and pressing my hand to her stomach.
“I brought two serums,” he says, catching the monkey and putting it down before pulling a small plastic box out of his pocket. “One will take away her powers for good, the other will, supposedly, finish giving them back. Tell me, Jimmi, I’m not exactly objective in this case, so which should I use?”
I stop, looking at him. This would be so easy to finish, I realize. We could strip her powers for good, and she would probably thank us for it, after what she said to me earlier. I shake my head. “The one that gives them back,” I say.
“Why?”
“Because I think she could do so much more good with her powers than she knows,” I say. “I’m going to help her do it.”
He tosses me the syringe. “Then do it,” he says. “Anywhere is fine.”
I nod, uncap the syringe, and give her the shot.
***
Lurker: Ladies and Gentlemen, and all you other scoundrels, I have more information on the glow sticks that you might be interested in knowing.
Herricane: Why do I feel like we’re watching a snake oil man?
IceBringer: Because he’s slippery, fork-tongued, and apt to bite?
Lurker: Now, now, is that any way to speak about someone who’s trying to help you out?
Earthquaker: I’m listening, Shadowman.
Herricane: You’re just encouraging him, East. If you keep encouraging him, he’ll keep misbehaving.
Earthquaker: He’s a super villain, he was BORN to misbehave, South.
Lurker: I’m feeling a bit… underestimated here…
IceBringer: Just spit it out, already, Shadowman.
Lurker: Those lovely little glow sticks can also boost your powers.
Herricane: Now we’re ALL listening.
***
*Walter Colleck’s Mansion*
Davis wakes up, looking around in confusion for about half a second before realizing what had happened. Almost unconsciously, he reaches for the glasses that he usually lays on the table next to his bed. His fingers touch table, moving around for a second before he sits up and looks. The glasses haven’t fallen to the ground, they’re just gone, he thinks, rather calmly. Of course this would happen, it was probably the reason his father brought all of those game systems in the first place. He wanted to get the glasses.
Davis pulls out the phone that Technico gave him; glad he’d at least kept that on his person. There’s a message waiting for him as soon as he lets it scan his retina to prove it’s him. The text says, simply, He’s onto us. I’ll get you out.
Davis frowns, his mind rushing before he types a reply. There’s something I have to destroy, first. It’s going to be dangerous, and he’s not sure he’ll make it out, but… he’s too close not to try, he thinks as he gets up and dresses quickly. He runs down the stairs, right past his mother, who’s yelling about his sleeping in so late. He doesn’t have time to pretend to repent. He’s got to get to the atomic converter. He can’t leave the blueprints, either. If he can get rid of those two things, all they’ll have is whatever his father brought to the table… which is dangerous enough, he admits, but he still has to do what he can.
The door of the school building opens before he can reach the handle, and his father gives him a smile. “Good to see you awake, my boy,” he says, placing a hand on Davis’s shoulder. It feels like a clamp.
“I slept in, sorry,” Davis says, through gritted teeth. “You’re hurting me.”
“Oh, sorry, sorry,” Walter says, patting the shoulder he’d just pinched. “I was just so happy to see you that I overreacted.”
“I bet,” Davis says.
“So, today is the day you start on your project,” Walter says, “but first I think we need to have a little discussion, just between the two of us.” He leads Davis through the various scientists, who have gotten their hands on even more strange things, by the look of it. One is holding a jar of liquid with a pair of clamps. Davis hears them say something about “Atlanti,” and almost heads for it, his curiosity overcoming the situation. He’s stopped by Walter’s hand on his shoulder, again. “You can play with the toxic venom after our chat,” Walter says.
“Atlanti is the octopus shapeshifter in the Cape Cells, right?” Davis says. “How did you get an entire jar of her venom?”
“I have my sources,” Walter says. “I would be happy to share them with you, my boy, but not yet.”
Davis finds himself looking back, longingly. Those sources of his father’s sound amazing. He… no, he tells himself, tempted to slap his own face, this is not the time to be lured over to the dark side. “I see,” he says, instead.
“I’m surprised,” Walter says as they walk into a rather modern looking office. The wall is clear. They can see the norms, and the norms can see them, but they can’t hear them.
“By what?” Davis asks.
“By the fact that you haven’t said a word about your missing glasses,” Walter says calmly. “Don’t you want to know what happened to them? You aren’t stupid, you must know that only a few people could come and take them while you were sleeping.”
“They were dollar store glasses, so why should it matter? You can do whatever you want with them,” Davis says, playing it off while meeting his father’s eyes. “Did you really think that losing a pair of cheap glasses is going to bother me?”
“I see,” Walter says. “So we’re going to play it that way.”
“I’m hardly playing,” Davis says, meaning every word. “I might need to pick up a new pair if we draw attention from the norms. Until then, shouldn’t I get started on that little project you mentioned yesterday?” He looks around, examining the room quickly, but memorizing where everything is, nonetheles
s. “I only have a month, right? I need to get started soon if I’m going to pull it off.”
“Yes, of course,” Walter says. “But first…” He reaches out again, pulling Davis into his arms. “I’ve dreamed of having a child that carries my powers. I would hate to have to start over, again.”
Davis freezes, finding it hard to breathe for a moment. “I see,” he says.
Walter laughs, and the chilling threat seems like a sick fantasy. “Did they not tell you about the Collector? I’m surprised. I thought they trusted you enough to give you those… cheap glasses. Oh, but don’t bother claiming him, I never do. He’s just a failed experiment. Really, I should thank Panther for what he did, it saved me quite a lot of money.”
Davis keeps his expression neutral, not knowing what to say to that, and pulls out of the hold. “I’ll just be going to see Uncle Richard, then,” he says.
“Great idea,” Walter says, “ah, but one last little thing, son.”
“Yes?”
“I suggest you get over your hero worship of Technico. He might seem like a good guy, since he’s working for the Hall, but he’s just trying to use you. You’re too smart to be used, aren’t you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Davis says, stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him. He forces himself to keep a bland expression on his face. It was fun being undercover, at first. It was fun thinking that he was outsmarting a super so much older than he is, but now…
He’s terrified. His father knows exactly what he’s up to, and he pretty much threatened to finish him off, if he needs to. He expects Davis to come over to his side, and honestly, it’s tempting. There are so many more interesting things happening here than there were in school, and it’s all about him. This is the training he could only DREAM about… He heads through the lab, almost by instinct, barely managing to keep from bumping into tables.
“I’ve come to work on the machine,” he says as he reaches his uncle’s work station. He glances around, seeing blue screens on all of the computer monitors. His mind jumps to several possible conclusions, all based on the glasses his father had stolen from him. Well… dreams of grandeur are all well and good until you remember who you’re up against, he admits. When it all comes down to it, he knows he’s not capable of going up against Nico and winning. Oh, sure, he would have his father, if he switched sides, but he’s seen the files of the villains that Nico has taken down. Herold’s, in particular, had stuck out in his mind.
