Velveteen vs. The Multiverse

by Seanan McGuire

  Tad blinked, annoyance fading into concern. “Jackie? Is everything okay?”

  She laughed unsteadily. “No, everything really isn’t. Tad, do you remember the fight against the robots?”

  “The ones that dentist built? Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “That fight scared the life out of me.”

  Jackie winced. “Bad choice of words. Tad, look. Maybe you better sit down.”

  Tad paled. Tad sat. Jackie sat beside him on the couch and began to talk.

  Somewhere in the middle of her explanation, he took her hands. Sometime after that, she began to cry. Through it all, Tad looked stunned and maybe, just a little bit, relieved. It was an answer, after all; it explained everything that had happened since he saw that metal foot come down, since the world went away, only to come back in full color when he heard Vel calling his name. Yes, it all made perfect sense.

  That didn’t make it any easier to hear. Before she was done, he was crying too, and they clung to each other, and they wept.

  Victoria answered the door. She was Victoria because she was out of uniform, although the only real difference between her street clothes and her superhero attire was in the number and size of the guns that she was carrying. “She’s asleep,” she said, when she saw Jackie and Tad standing on the porch. “Go away.”

  “Wasn’t the Victorian Era supposed to be all about the manners and stuff?” asked Jackie, pushing her way past Torrey and into the living room. Tad followed.

  “The world has moved on,” said Torrey crossly, closing the door behind them. “She needs her rest.”

  “I know.” Jackie took a deep breath. It seemed like she was doing that a lot lately. “Look. You want her to get some rest because you need her to recover from whatever’s been draining her energy if we’re going to get Yelena back, right?”

  Torrey froze. “You called her by name,” she said. Her gaze swung around to Tad. “Why are you here with her, and out of uniform? Aren’t you still maintaining an alter ego?”

  “You always said you were smart,” said Tad, with a wan smile.

  “Oh, sweet Epona.” Torrey made a complicated gesture that might, in a world where a horse-goddess was the superior deity, have been the equivalent of a Christian girl crossing herself. “I’ll get her for you.” Then she fled the room, vanishing down the hall.

  “Here we go,” said Jackie. She looked to Tad. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Me, too.”

  Victoria returned a few minutes later, a groggy Velma behind her. Vel was wearing her bathrobe, and looked like she’d just been running a marathon, not taking a nap. She rubbed her eyes as she frowned at the pair.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Why are you here in the middle of the day?”

  “We have to talk to you,” said Jackie gravely.

  Velma looked from her to Tad, panic beginning to build in her expression. “What’s wrong?” she repeated. “Did someone die? Oh, God—is Yelena okay?”

  This time, it was Tad who said, “Maybe you’d better sit down,” and took her hands, and led her to the couch.

  “Velma, Tad didn’t survive the fight against the robots,” said Jackie. She stayed standing. “He died. You brought him back.”

  “What? No. I’d know.”

  “You do know. You just…aren’t admitting it to yourself, because you don’t want to lose him. But that’s why you’re so tired all the time, honey. Because you’re licking your candy cane at both ends, and it’s wearing down way too fast. If you don’t let him go, it’s going to kill you.”

  Velma shook her head. “No. No. You’re wrong. You’re—”

  “Vel, we both know there’s something wrong with me.” Tad didn’t let go of her hands. “I’m not one of those guys who starts pledging eternal love after the second date, but that doesn’t mean I’m selfish enough to kill you for a few more days of life. You have to stop animating me. You have to let me go.”

  “No!”

  “I’ve seen what happens if you don’t,” said Jackie. “It kills you, and then you bring yourself back as a sort of…energy vampire. You steal the life force you don’t have from the people around you. I spoke to the only heroic version of Marionette in the multiverse. She begged me to stop you before it was too late. She’s a version of you who’s already paid this price, Vel, and it’s too high. It’s too high for everyone.”

  “Let me go,” said Tad. “Please.”

  “But I love you,” whispered Vel. “I can’t do this alone.”

  “If you think that the loss of a lover renders you alone, you are a sadder, less observant person than I had ever dreamt,” said Torrey. “You are not alone. You will be lonely, yes, but you will never be alone.”

  “I can’t.” Velma shook her head, tightening her grip on Tad’s fingers. “I’ve lost Yelena. I can’t lose anyone else. I just can’t. Don’t ask me to do this.”

  “The risks—”

  “They’re mine! I’m the one taking them, not you, so don’t ask me to let you go because you think that’s how you protect me! That’s not how you protect me! You protect me by staying with me. You protect me by being here.”

  Jackie bit her lip before saying, reluctantly, “I may have another option.” She didn’t want to say this, sweet Claus, she didn’t want to say this, but if Vel wasn’t willing to listen to reason… “Can I use your mirror?”

  Entering the Crystal Glitter Unicorn Cloud Castle was like walking into an explosion of fairy tale clichés, each one more sparkly and encrusted with gemstones than the last. Singing flowers dropped down from the ceiling to serenade their little procession, which was only slightly less bizarre than the fact that the footman was a kangaroo in a pink and purple tabard. He even had a mushroom cap with a pink ostrich feather in it.

  Tad, who had never been to visit the Princess at home before, said in a horrified tone, “I don’t know whether I should laugh or buy her a thousand shots of tequila as a form of apology for the collective subconscious.”

  “I go with a combination of the two,” said Jackie. She turned to look at Velma, moving a bit more slowly than usual, due to the elaborate ball gown that had replaced her clothes when she passed through the mirror. At least it was blue. Velma’s gown was burgundy with hints of pink, while Victoria was dressed in rust-red with copper accents. Of the three of them, Victoria looked the most comfortable. “You okay, honey?”

  “Let’s get this over with,” said Vel. She sounded almost like she was drugged. “I just…”

  “I know,” said Tad, squeezing her hand. His clothes had been transformed into a theme park fantasy of Prince Charming’s daily wear…but they were entirely in black. Maybe that was fitting, given the circumstances.

  They kept moving.

  The kangaroo led them through the twisting, largely pink palace until they reached a pair of uncharacteristically un-blinged oak doors. Then he turned and hopped away, apparently expecting them to know what to do from here. Jackie looked at the others, shrugged, and touched the nearest door with one faintly glowing hand, sending frost spiraling out across the wood. The doors swung open, revealing a gray stone cathedral with stained glass windows letting in the only light. There was a jarring lack of pink. Even the Princess, who was standing at the head of the room next to a long glass box, was wearing a dark gray gown, not a jewel or neon accent in sight.

  “Y’all can come on in now,” she said. “I’m ready for you.” They walked across the room to the Princess in a ragged formation, Velma still clinging to Tad’s hand. He was crying. None of them commented on it. It seemed inappropriate to even admit that they could see his tears.

  The Princess stepped off the dais and walked calmly over to the pair. She reached for their joined hands, and somehow, through the clever movement of her fingers, separated them, even though they would have sworn that wasn’t possible. Taking both of Velma’s hands in her own, she looked the other heroine in the eyes, and asked, “Can you let go?”

  “I don’t want
to,” whispered Vel.

  “That’s not the question.”

  Velma sniffled and looked at Tad, who smiled wanly. She looked back to the Princess and nodded. She didn’t say it aloud. She didn’t have the words.

  “Good.” The Princess released her, turning to take Tad’s hands in the same fashion. “Now you, my boy…I’m so sorry this happened. We all know there are dangers to this job, and that doesn’t make it any easier.”

  “Thank you,” said Tad.

  “I have to ask you: are you sure? This doesn’t let you move on. Whatever Heaven you believe in, you’re not going to get there.”

  Tad nodded firmly. “I’m sure. I may have known the job was dangerous when I took it, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to go.”

  “Good. Come with me.” The Princess released one of his hands, keeping hold of the other as she turned and led him toward the dais. Tad glanced back at Velma, who was sobbing into Jackie’s shoulder, and allowed himself to be led.

  As they moved closer to the glass box, it became more obvious that it was, in fact, a glass coffin. A bowl of apples rested on a pedestal next to it, alongside a spindle. “Pick your poison, sugar,” said the Princess. “I mean that literally. Either one will do you in, and then it’s just a matter of waiting.”

  “Can I have a second?” asked Tad.

  “Sure, honey. Take all the time you need. Just, once you choose, you gotta be ready to lay down, all right? The coffin has to close. That’s what protects you.”

  Tad nodded.

  The Princess stepped down from the dais, motioning for Jackie and Victoria to go with her. Together, they left the room, leaving Tad and Velma alone.

  “Hey.” Tad hopped down from the dais, feeling a little guilty about the energy he was using as he walked to his girlfriend, taking hold of her wrists. He tried to pull her hands down from her face. “Vel, sweetie, look at me.”

  She dropped her hands and raised her face, sniffling. Her eyes were red, and her nose was slightly swollen. He smiled.

  “You are not one of nature’s more photogenic weepers,” he said. “Marketing must have hated it when you got upset.”

  Vel laughed a little, despite herself. “I think they died a little bit inside every time I skinned my knee and cried where the cameras could catch it.”

  “Good.” Tad switched his grip so that they were holding hands again. “I love you, Velma. And even if you didn’t know you were doing it, I want to say…thank you. For keeping me alive. For caring enough not to let me go. But now you have to care enough to stop. Everyone’s counting on you. Yelena needs you. And I need to know that I’m not killing you. So can you do it? Can you let go?”

  “I think so,” she whispered. “We were supposed to have so much time. What happened to all our time?”

  “We spent some of it. Now we get to put the rest of it in the bank. Come on.” Tad pulled her with him as he walked back to the dais. The glass coffin was waiting, all silent invitation and cold inevitability.

  Velma couldn’t look at it. “The Princess says that we can wake you up with true love’s kiss, and you’ll be alive again. Is there anything you need to tell me?”

  “Honey, if anyone’s going to wake me up, it’s going to be you.” Tad dropped her hands, put his arms around her waist, and kissed her. After a moment’s stunned hesitation, Velma looped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him back. They held each other for as long as they could, trading frantic kisses and bitter tears, until finally, Tad pulled away.

  “I love you,” Velma said.

  “I know,” he said, and smiled, holding up the apple he had taken from the bowl. “I’ll see you soon.”

  The sound of his teeth tearing through the fruit was like the sound of a robot’s foot crashing down on a city street. He chewed, swallowed, and fell. Velma darted in, barely catching him before his head could hit the floor. Carefully, she maneuvered him into the coffin and closed the lid—

  —and fainted, as the band of energy that had been stretched between them for months finally snapped, and she was whole again. It was like a heavy rain falling on a dry lake: even though there was room for all the water, it was too much to bear.

  There was no one there to catch her.

  Velma awoke in the middle of a giant daisy that had been drafted into service as a bed. She was still wearing the ball gown. She sat up, sneezed, and accepted the tissue that was offered to her. “Thank you,” she said, blowing her nose. Then she paused, blinked, and turned to see the Princess sitting next to the flower-bed.

  “Morning, sunshine,” she said. “You’ve been asleep for about twelve hours. How are you feeling?”

  “…a little ashamed of how good I feel,” said Velma. “It’s like I was sick for a long time, and didn’t know it.”

  “That’s not too bad a comparison. Come on.” The Princess stood, offering Velma her hands. “Up you get. You need to eat, and then we need to figure out what happens next.”

  “What do you mean, what happens next? I kiss Tad. He wakes up. We crush The Super Patriots.”

  “Oh, honey.” The Princess looked at her sadly. “You only get one try. If you kiss him and he doesn’t wake up, you can’t try again.”

  Velma frowned. “So?”

  “So unless you settle things with Aaron, I’m not sure you can call what you feel for the boy true love.” The Princess shook her head. “You have to make things right before you can make them better.”

  For a long time, Velma just stared at her. The Princess sighed, and folded her into an embrace, and neither of them said anything at all.

  Tired all the way down to her frozen bones, Jackie Frost stumbled through the mirror and into the warm snow of the North Pole. She staggered past the pond and the forest, and no snow fell; she would have needed strength to make it snow. As she approached the door to Santa’s Workshop, it opened, and the big man himself stepped out, his red coat like a flame against the never-ending winter wonderland.

  “You did well, my dear,” he said, and wrapped her in a hug that smelled like cocoa and candy canes, and held her as she cried.

  VELVETEEN

  vs.

  Jolly Roger

  CELIA MORGAN, GOVERNOR OF OREGON, shook her head. “No,” she said.

  “What?” Velveteen stared at her. In all the possible scenarios she’d considered for this day, the governor simply refusing her resignation hadn’t even cracked the top twenty. “What do you mean, no? I’m quitting. You can’t tell me not to quit.”

  “Perhaps not, but I can refuse to accept your resignation, which has essentially the same result.” Governor Morgan pushed the paper back toward Velveteen. “You’re still the official superheroine of Portland, with all the powers and responsibilities that the position conveys.”

  “But—” protested Velveteen.

  Governor Morgan continued speaking as if she hadn’t been interrupted. “At the same time, the state of Oregon recognizes that this is a difficult time for you. Because another superheroine is willing to take on your duties on a temporary basis, I have approved a six-week bereavement leave. I realize this is irregular, since the two of you were not registered as married, but I believe that teammates should be afforded the same rights under the law as domestic partners. Go. Grieve. Get your head together. Jory will keep the state safe while you’re away.”

  Velveteen blinked, too stunned to speak. After a moment of silence, Governor Morgan took pity on her.

  “We both know that whatever cosmic strings you pulled to get my sister returned to me, you pulled them for a reason,” said Celia. “At the time, I suspected it was because you were getting ready to make a frontal assault on The Super Patriots, and didn’t want any repercussions to find Oregon undefended. I should have been angry at you, playing on my emotions like that, but I wasn’t angry then, and I’m not angry now. You gave me the most valuable thing in the world. Now it’s my turn to give you the only thing I have that could mean half as much.”

  “What’s that?�
� Velveteen asked.

  “Time.” Governor Celia Morgan, who had lost her only sister to The Super Patriots, and regained her from a bunny-eared, secondstring heroine, leaned back in her chair and smiled. “Get those bastards, Velveteen. Make them pay for everything they’ve ever done, to anyone.”

  Velveteen nodded. Then, without another word, she stood and left the office. Governor Morgan watched her go, unable to shake the feeling that she’d never see the superheroine again.

  “I did all I could,” she whispered, and wished she could believe herself.

  Velveteen stepped out of the office to find three women waiting for her in the reception area. Only three: the fourth, the receptionist, had fled at some point, doubtless fearing that a massive superhero battle was about to take place. She wasn’t too far wrong.

  “I know you weren’t really thinking of leaving without us,” said Jackie, folding her arms. She was wearing what passed as a uniform for her, a silver and blue ice skater’s delight with so many sequins and semi-precious stones stitched into the fabric that it probably qualified as armor. “That would be silly, and if there’s one thing a woman who brings toys to life and uses them to fight crime would never be, it’s silly.”

  “She was doubtless just informing the Governor that there would be rather fewer superhumans in town for the next few days,” said Victory Anna, whose attire was much more suited to an H.G. Wells fan convention. She even had a backpack-powered ray gun. All the rage with the modern gaslight costume set.

  “She was leaving,” said the Princess. It was a blunt statement, made all the blunter because it was coming from a pretty blonde Southern girl who looked like she was going to break into song at any moment. “She doesn’t want any of the rest of us getting hurt, ain’t that right, bunny-girl?”