Abby and her mom catch up while Jess figures out how to undo the restraints. She doesn’t really know how the tantalum alloy will affect her, but she doesn’t want to risk either Abby’s or Bells’ powers.
When Jess touches the metal, a cold heaviness weighs in her stomach, but it’s not really noticeable. Better her than Abby or Bells, anyway. She finds a latch and presses it, and all the restraints unlock, pop free, and clatter to the ground. Mistress Mischief—Genevieve—stands up and seizes Abby in a hug, and then pulls Bells and Jess in as well.
“Thank you,” she says.
“Of course,” Abby says.
Jess lets them have their moment, holding on to the restraints.
Bells eyes her warily. “Isn’t it affecting you?”
“I don’t know,” Jess says. “Ask me a question.”
“Which way is north?”
Jess has nothing, no internal pull, no instinct. It’s strange, having only known about her power for a day and now to miss it so much. How long will this last? The initial cold unsettling feeling disappeared when she stopped touching the tantalum, so maybe the rest of it will wear off soon.
“Phillip isn’t here,” Elizabeth says to the room. “They separated us a while ago.”
“We need to get out of here,” Jess says.
They race out of the room. Without Jess’ sense of direction, it’s difficult to navigate, but Bells recognizes the numbers on the hallways and gets them back to the elevators.
Abby pulls them into the stairwell. “Stairs, stairs, they’ll be watching the elevators.”
Their luck runs out three floors up. The stairwell is flooded with light and noise, and a rush of uniformed people comes down the stairs toward them. Claudia flies at them, and for a split second Jess is terrified.
Safety. We need to get out of here unobstructed.
“This way!” Jess opens the nearest door and flings herself down the hallway, running and following her instinct. It’s back! She had no idea she missed it so much.
“You’ve already recovered from touching the tantalum cuffs,” Genevieve says with awe. “Abby tells me your gift is amazing.”
“Oh, thank you, I just found out about it today,” Jess says, panting. “Come on, we have to get out of here before—”
The stairwell door bursts open, and Claudia flies down the hallway.
“She must have used the same supplements as Orion,” Jess says. “She’s never been able to use her abilities this much before.”
“Chameleon, you traitor!” Claudia shouts. She picks up a hallway cabinet and throws it at Bells.
“Hey!” Abby steps in front of Bells. She lifts her hand, stops the cabinet in midair, and flings it back at Claudia, who just punches through it.
“Oh, I know who you are,” Claudia says. “You’re the one Orion says wanted to be on the hero track. Apparently you’re A-class. Longest intensity level recorded, at least you would be if you were registered. Supposedly you’re even stronger than me.” Claudia sniffs, walking forward. “But I think you’ve been using your powers all day, and you should be just about tapped out by now.” She advances, grabbing a broken piece of the cabinet and throwing it.
Abby can only duck, and the four of them back up, hugging the walls.
Jess cringes as the metal crashes to the floor.
Claudia gives them a sinister smile. “In the labs here we’ve been developing something that will revolutionize how we deal with uncooperative meta-humans. This batch isn’t quite ready yet, but I think it will do. You’re a threat, Abby Monroe, to me, the League, and the North American Collective. Can’t have A-class meta-humans breaking into government facilities and aiding the escape of detainees, now can we?”
From her belt Claudia pulls out a syringe and uncaps it.
“No, no, no, what are you doing?” Jess yells, running forward.
Claudia shoves Jess aside, right into a wall, and Jess crumples to the ground in white-hot pain. Claudia injects the contents into Abby’s neck and holds her by the wrist in a tight grip.
Abby’s face goes ashen and she stumbles back. “What… what is—”
“You feel it, don’t you, even if you’re tapped out,” Claudia says.
Bells has picked up a metal bar from the broken debris but stops when Claudia turns around. “I’ve got another one of these ready to go. You don’t want to let go of your precious powers, now do you, Chameleon?” Claudia taunts.
Bells shrinks back.
“Leave him alone!” Jess says, fighting back the shock. She thought Claudia might have gotten a bit carried away with the fame of being in the League, but that she’d be able to listen to reason. Obviously she’s so much in Orion’s pocket that she doesn’t see anything wrong with what she’s just done to Abby. “I thought you were better than this.”
“I am better,” Claudia says. She gives Jess a long, considering look, purses her lips together, and for a second Jess is reminded of the way Claudia used to do that when they were kids; it’s her thinking face, the same expression that preceded a new game or how to sneak sweets from their parents.
“What are you doing with these losers?” Claudia asks, jerking her head at Abby and Bells.
“They’re my friends.” Jess tries to stand up; her shoulder throbs from where she hit the wall and a new, throbbing ache has started in her chest from her scar.
“We’re going to have to deal with them, you know. They’re villains,” Claudia says, shuddering with distaste. She looks down at Jess, still struggling on the floor, and then extends her hand. “Come on, Jessie Bessie. You don’t have to be one of them. I’m very well established in the League now. Did you know Captain Orion is considering me for second in command? I’ve got a lot of say. And you’re my sister.”
She leans forward with a conspiratorial smile, and suddenly Jess is reminded of the way it used to be between them.
“Look, remember what I said about hero support? You don’t have to have powers to do that, but now that you’ve found this place and see what we’ve done with the meta-gene, there’s just so many possibilities. I know you don’t have powers, but you and I, we’ve got the same DNA. We’re legacies. It would be so simple to activate the rest of your powers, Jessie Bessie. You could fly.”
Jess stares at Claudia from the floor, and a painful yearning in her heart leaps forward: those countless trials in the desert by herself, jumping off rocks, hoping for something, anything to show that she would inherit her parents’ powers. The memory of flying above the canyons with Claudia holding her, the two of them laughing and joking like the friends they used to be changes to the present: Jess and Claudia wearing matching League emblems, flying together.
Flight. The rarest of abilities.
If Captain Orion found a way to make meta-abilities last beyond normal limits, it’s entirely possible Jess could fly.
Claudia’s hand is still outstretched before her. “It’ll be great,” she says.
Jess takes a deep breath; she’d always wanted to fly.
Behind Claudia she can see Abby’s prone figure; Genevieve cradling her head and rocking back and forth. Bile rises in Jess’ throat. Bells is cowering on the other end of the hall, still shaking from Claudia’s threats.
The memories of Claudia and Jess together—they’re just that; memories, in the past. Claudia is different now, and Jess knows the horrifying things Orion and the League have done.
“No,” Jess says softly.
“What?”
“No.” The word is louder this time, and Jess pushes herself off the ground, standing up on her own. She brushes aside Claudia’s hand. “Orion and the League are wrong.”
Jess holds up her fists and sets her feet apart in a fighting stance. She winces as her aching body protests, but she readies herself anyway.
Claudia’s eyes flash and she flies up, seizing a pipe and breaking off a section from the ceiling with her considerable strength. The remaining pipes above her shake and groan.
“You’re going to regret this,” Claudia says coldly. “Corrections is not a fun place.” Claudia shakes her head, hefting the heavy pipe. “I’m going to knock you all out now and take you back to Orion.” She shakes her head at Jess. “I was so good to you; I took you flying and endured all your clingy little questions. You were going to be my sidekick, help me—”
“I am not your sidekick!” The volume of her own voice surprises even Jess, and it echoes in the hallway, but she stands by what she says, grabbing a stray bit of metal to protect herself. If it’s going to be a fight, she might as well be ready. “I’ve always been in your shadow, Clauds. What makes you think I want to keep doing that? I want to be my own person, be liked for who I am, not just for copying you!”
Claudia laughs, loud and shrill. “Your own person? You’re nothing but a byproduct of an experiment!”
Jess blinks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Maybe you should ask our parents what they’ve been keeping from you. I mean, they didn’t seem surprised at all when you didn’t get any powers, did they? Like they knew you wouldn’t?”
Jess steps backward, stunned.
Claudia continues, voice hard as steel. “You’ll never be a hero, never be anything—”
The debris above her shakes precariously. “Claudia, watch out!” Jess yells.
Claudia is still in the middle of her diatribe when a pipe lands on her, knocking her to the ground. Jess rushes forward; for all that Claudia has said and done, she’s still her sister. “No, no, Claudia—”
Bells steps hesitantly forward. “She’s got superhealing, right?” He reaches and tries to lift the pipe off Claudia. Jess struggles to help and the two of them finally push it aside.
Claudia’s unconscious, and Jess tries her best to remember the first aid classes she’s had and takes Claudia’s pulse. It’s steady, so she might just be out of it for a bit.
“Come on, we have to get her out of the way.”
They take her to the cell where Abby’s mom was kept and put the tantalum shackles on her to keep her from recharging.
“Orion will get her,” Genevieve says.
Jess takes one more look at Claudia. With her eyes closed, she doesn’t look angry anymore. Just young.
Genevieve Monroe is short and has a commanding presence. “Abby, you have to get off the base immediately. They’ll want to keep you to monitor how the serum affects you—and how are you feeling?”
“Terrible,” Abby says. “This is totally different from being tapped out.”
“I haven’t seen many of the test subjects, but a lot of them had very invasive tests,” Genevieve says. “I need to get a message to your father as soon as possible. If I can get into the mainframe somehow—”
“I can get you there,” Bells says. “I have enough strength to do one more disguise. We can look like two of the guards, get to a console close to the exit, and then we can walk out.”
Genevieve nods. “Okay. Abby? Jess?”
Abby takes her DED out of her pocket and hands it to Bells. “Take this. There’s a holo of Captain Orion talking about the experiments and all the horrible things the NAC have been doing with the League. Get it on the Net it as soon as you can after you contact my dad.”
“I can definitely do that,” Bells says. “How are you guys gonna get out? There are guards everywhere.”
“We’ll find our way,” Abby says, looking at Jess.
Jess points at the hall behind them. “The safest exit route free from the guards or any other opposition is that way. Come on, Abby.”
Jess hugs Bells tightly. “You’re always a hero to me.”
He chuckles and pats her back. “I’ll see you back in town.”
Abby and her mom are hugging, whispering to each other. “Ready?”
Jess takes her hand, and they make their way. It gets harder as they go, as Abby seems to get weaker and weaker. Finally Jess’ instinct guides her to what looks like a garbage chute, and they crawl in, landing among soft garbage bags. They wait in the closed dumpster, and after what seems like an infinity of darkness, Jess can hear a machine moving them. Wheels. Concrete.
“Abby, it’s going to be okay,” Jess says. “We’re getting out of here, and then your mom is gonna meet us back in Andover.”
Abby squeezes Jess’ hand weakly and then promptly vomits in the corner of the dumpster.
It’s hot in the enclosed space, and the stench of vomit is more and more concentrated as they continue. Jess tries to keep track of how long they’ve been on the road, but she has no clue. She’s tired and hungry and her eyelids are closing.
Jess wakes up to a shock of light and the sounds of more machines, and then she and Abby are among the trash bags in an open heap. They seem to be the last dumpster to be emptied. Jess hides among the bags just in case.
A bright morning sun bounces harsh rays off the canyon that serves as the dump. Jess waits until the truck drives away before she struggles to get free of the trash.
“Abby!” Jess calls. “Come on, let’s go!”
Abby groans.
When Jess touches her, Abby’s skin is pale and clammy. “Abby, how are you feeling?”
“Gross.”
“We’re literally sitting in trash, I would expect so. Come on, Andover is that way.”
She manages to get Abby to her feet, and they clamber out of the trash pile and to the trail leading out of the dump.
Abby is sluggish and refuses to talk. She just nods and slings an arm around Jess. They walk in the heat, and Jess has to stop every now and then and remove the pieces of Abby’s broken mecha-suit. They leave a trail of shining metal pieces behind them as they go, keeping a considerable distance from the road.
The air shimmers in the distance, but Andover isn’t quite visible yet. There is only desert around them; Joshua trees twist toward the sky and creosote bushes dot the landscape.
A truck drives by on the road, whizzing loudly. Jess nearly trips over a rock, and they stumble, but Abby is the one who slumps to the ground.
“Abby!” Jess calls out, seeing Abby’s prone form lying on the ground. “Please be okay, please be okay,” she mutters as she rushes forward.
She turns Abby over and exhales when Abby’s eyes flick open, and her chest heaves up and down.
“Abby.” Jess holds her to her chest.
“I’m fine. I knew you cared, you dork.”
“Of course I care!” Jess tucks the curl flopping in front of Abby’s eyes behind her ear and pats her hair.
“You love me,” Abby says, smiling.
Jess leans forward. “Yeah, I really do. This isn’t our Romeo and Juliet moment. You’re going to be okay. No one is dying.”
“No, it’s the end. I want a goodbye kiss.”
“No.” Jess refuses to believe it’s that bad. Genevieve wouldn’t have let them go if she didn’t think they could make it out of the base. She doesn’t know what that serum did, but for now she’s just relieved Abby is still breathing and talking and doesn’t have any visible injuries. “I’ll kiss you when all this is over, okay? You’re going to be fine.”
Abby closes her eyes, breathing shallowly.
“Where is help? Where is someone who can help us?” Jess mutters to herself. “Come on, you stupid power, be useful. I can do this.” She concentrates, but can’t figure a direction.
Glancing at her wrist is an automatic reflex, but the display of her DED is shattered. It must have been damaged during the fight, and now is nothing more than a useless bit of metal and circuits. “I need someone who can help Abby get better. Where is the nearest person who can help Abby?”
Jess thinks and thinks and there’s no direction that her heart is telling her to go, it just is…
That means the answer is Jess. Jess is that person.
The desert is vast and dry, and Jess’ lips are already parched. They’re going to need to find shade, and quick.
“Can you stand?” Jess asks. “If you can’t move on your own, we can’t go anywhere; you’re going to get really sunburnt here and dehydrated. Let’s try and get to that rock overhang.”
Abby winces and lets Jess prop her up. Jess takes most of the weight. Together, the two of them struggle across the sand.
The gorgeous canyons all around mock them with the lack of shade; the few cacti rise tall and spindly with scant shadows. There is no wildlife, only the rustling of the wind, scattering dust clouds in the distance.
The wilderness outside Andover used to make Jess nervous whenever she left the city. Hardly anyone ever hiked out here, even for fun. There are plenty of recreational opportunities in Andover, and Las Vegas is only an hour’s drive away.
They pass by an old sign that proclaims DANGER: UNMAINTAINED AREA, CLASS THREE. It’s been over a hundred years since the Disasters, and there’s no danger from the radiation, but the unknown, that huge “Unmaintained” label is the main reason no one wants to go outside the towns.
Even if there was a passing car, what’s to say Orion hasn’t alerted the League and everyone about what they’ve done? Are they fugitives now? Are they in danger?
Jess has always found the area intriguing, with bits and pieces of old America scattered throughout a vivid and beautiful landscape, but today she doesn’t have the energy to appreciate it.
There’s so much life here, all of it struggling to stay afloat, seizing sun and air and water where it can. Jess once memorized the shapes of cacti so she could learn their names on the Net. Supposedly there’s one that can be sliced up and harvested for the juice, but Jess doesn’t remember which one or how that process would work.
Jess concentrates on moving one foot in front of the other.
Water. She knows there is water close by. Behind that rock overhang, there will be water.
They make it to the overhang, and Jess sets Abby down.
“You should leave,” Abby says. “I’m useless out here. That serum, whatever it did, I can’t… Even if it didn’t have an effect and only made me sick, I’m not charged enough to move anything, and there’s nothing electronic for me to manipulate. Both of us don’t have to die here. Go.”
“I’m not leaving you. But I am going to get you some water. There’s some close by. I can feel it.”
“Go back to Andover,” Abby says.
“Shh, I’ll be right back.” Jess kisses Abby on the forehead, then leaves her in the shade. She takes off her outer shirt and winds it around her head like a hat to keep the sun out of her eyes and follows her instincts. Water. Drinkable water.
Her instinct guides her to a sheer cliff, and Jess eyes the sandstone. “Đéo biết,” Jess curses. Where is she supposed to go? Is the water embedded in the stone?
She looks around the outcrop she’s standing on, searching for any sign of the water.
It’s here. It has to be. She scans the area until she sees a pile of stacked rocks—someone made this formation. A cairn.
So, she’s on the right track.
Jess turns back toward the cliff, looking at the way weather and time have carved the stone into jagged shapes, and how cracks mar the surface. Every so often, there’s a dusting of white powder.
Chalk, Jess realizes, and a holovid of rock climbers coating their hands with the substance comes to mind.
“Okay,” Jess says, taking a deep breath.
She grips the rock face, steadies herself on the tiny holds, and then finds the barest ledge for her toes. The sandstone is gritty and warm beneath her fingers; red dust coats her skin.
Jess is aware of nothing but the sky blazing pale blue behind her and the red rock in front of her as she climbs higher and higher. She loses her grip a few times and she barely catches herself before tumbling. Each inch is a victory.
The chalk is dusted generously in no apparent pattern, as if whoever was here—multiple whoevers, probably—skittered all over the rock for fun.
Ahead an overhang juts out above a dark hollow with another small cairn.
Jess rolls ungracefully, knocking the stacked pebbles aside; her body barely fits the small alcove. As her eyes adjust, she can see the shallow opening widens into a dark cavern. Pockets of light flick erratically inside the cave. How deep does it go?
She lies there on the cool stone catching her breath, and then wills herself to crawl forward until she can stand up.
Water.
She plods into the cave, and soon the hard stone gives way to softer sand, and then in a corner Jess falls to her knees. She picks up a sharp rock and digs. She keeps going until she hears a heavy metal klunk.
She finds a small barrel, someone’s cache of survival supplies from the time of the Disasters, carefully squirreled away for later use. Jess pries open the lid. Inside is a backpack and a plastic jug of water. “Yes,” she breathes out. She breaks off the seal and takes a swig of the cool liquid. She manages to stuff the jug into the backpack, not bothering to look at the other contents. She heaves the whole thing onto her back and picks her way carefully down the cliff. It’s harder going down, but Jess only has one thought: Get back to Abby.
Jess wobbles forward once she reaches the ground. “Why is water so heavy?” she mutters. She shifts position, but any way she carries the pack is awkward; she cuddles the pack to her chest and waddles toward the rock overhang.
“Hey.” Jess sets down the backpack and takes out the jug.
Abby doesn’t respond.
“Abby,” Jess says, crouching down. She takes her extra shirt and pours some of the water onto it, wiping Abby’s forehead and then placing it on the back of her neck. It’s what we’re supposed to do for people who are overheating, right? Is Abby overheating? “Abby.”
“Ah, that feels nice,” Abby says, her voice barely a whisper.
“Drink some water.” Jess pours from the jug into her cupped palm and holds it to Abby’s lips. “C’mon, you got this.” Jess tips her hands forward into Abby’s mouth.
Abby drinks two handfuls of water, and then drifts off into an uneasy sleep. Jess drinks from the gallon jug, and then examines all the contents of the backpack.
So they have water and two reflective emergency heat blankets, five protein bars, and a glow stick. There’s nothing electronic in the backpack, just the food and water. It must be a quick refueling spot, hidden out here all the way in the middle of nowhere.
It’s not much, but it could be enough. Jess wishes her power was more specific because she could point them back to Andover, but they have no way of knowing how long it would take, or how far it is. It took an hour, maybe more, by car to get to the facility. That’s probably what, eighty miles at the most? Jess knows in P.E. she barely managed a twelve-minute mile, and that was running. Walking would take longer, especially in unknown terrain. They only have enough water for the two of them for a day, maybe two if they stretch it. Should they leave the relative safety of this shelter?
Jess sighs.
Abby groans, still in pain. She twitches and reaches out. “Jess.”
“I’m right here,” Jess says.
“No, here.”
Jess scoots closer. The ground is relatively cool, and Jess stays low and the two of them huddle there, Abby’s fingers finding Jess’ own and curling around them.
Jess falls asleep.
When she wakes up, the sunset is just leaving the horizon in streaks of warm oranges and reds.
Abby is awake already. She’s got the contents of the backpack laid out in front of her and a half-eaten protein bar in her hand. She takes another bite and makes a face at the taste. “These things are dry and taste like cardboard, but they’re edible. Where’d you get it?”
“Somebody’s cache of supplies. Probably been here since the Disasters.”
Abby makes a gagging noise. “Eating hundred year old protein. And I thought it couldn’t get any worse. Wonderful.”
“Hey, we’re alive.”
“We bought some time,” Abby says. “I wish I could help, but my suit is gone, and even if I had it, I wouldn’t be able to operate it without my powers.”
Jess nods. “We can try and find our way toward Leichester. It’s closer than Andover.”
“What’s there?”
“Nothing, really. It’s an old way station between Nuevo Los Angeles and Las Vegas. There are pictures of aliens there. I’ve seen it when I used to come out here. It would be on the way. I wish I knew how far, but I don’t. It’s between here and Andover. We would get there sooner. I mean, I don’t know if there’s enough electronics there for you to make a new suit, but we could ask someone to use their DED to find out what happened to Bells.”
“It’s as good a plan as any,” Abby says. “Let’s get moving while it’s dark.”
Jess agrees.
By the light of the moon, they walk, keeping just off the main road. Occasionally a car drives by, its bright headlights shockingly blinding white against the looming darkness of the night. Jess hopes they aren’t visible; she has no idea what Orion may have told the League about them or whether the authorities are looking for them.
Abby seems to have regained her physical strength at least and pushes away any question Jess has about her well-being. They walk in silence, the only sound their footsteps on the ground and the wind starting to pick up.
Jess puts her extra shirt back on, and she shivers in the cold desert night. Abby must be cold, too, in the thin skintight circuited bodysuit, but she doesn’t say anything about it.
Temperatures here are so extreme. How did people live during the Disasters without heat or air conditioning to temper this harsh environment?
They walk through the night, silent and filled with determination. Jess begins to lose focus, just follows where Abby goes, puts one foot in front of the other; her body is starting to give up on her. It becomes routine; walk, walk, walk, hide when there’s a car, take sips of water. Soon they abandon the empty water jug.
Abby walks as if her limbs are stiff. “Can you find us another shelter?”
Jess concentrates and points; there will be another overhang soon. The morning light peeks over the horizon, and they take out one of the emergency blankets; it shines in the moonlight, crinkles like aluminum foil, and they wrap themselves together.
They wake in late afternoon. Jess is groggy; sleeping during the day and walking through the night has messed with her natural sleep rhythm.
“How close are we?” Abby asks, and then sighs. “Sorry, I forgot.”
“It’s okay,” Jess says.
“No, I mean, without you, we wouldn’t have the food and water or know where we’re going. You’re doing all you can.”
“Let’s keep going.”
They make a quick meal of the protein bars and then walk forward.
Sometime in the middle of the night, Jess sees the light of the way station and the neon green alien face, shining like a beacon. “Almost there!” she says.
Abby bristles. “I can sense the electronics… three cars… door locks… an old computer console… one DED… but I can’t do anything.”
“It’s fine. We just need to get there and then we can call someone for help.”
“Who would we call?”
“My parents, probably.” Jess sighs. “I don’t know how they’ll take the news about Claudia.”
They stumble into the way station looking like a mess, but no more so than the group of college-age kids fueling up on energy drinks and snacks, talking excitedly about their plans for a night of debauchery in Las Vegas.
Their flashy convertible speeds off before they can be approached, so Jess and Abby head right into the way station. They must be covered in dirt, but the attendant doesn’t pay them any mind. He’s incredibly old; lines weather his face and he’s reading a novel at the register, gingerly turning a page at a painstakingly slow pace. A MASTER MISCHIEF WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE CHEESE trucker hat is perched on his head, and his long hair is gathered into a ponytail.
“Do you have a DED?” Jess asks. “We were hiking and got lost; our car battery died out in the canyons.”
The attendant clucks his tongue. “Kids,” he says, shaking his head. “Gotta charge those things up full before you leave the city. You know there ain’t gonna be charging ports everywhere.” He glances up and takes in their condition, and a trace of sympathy appears in his eyes. “My son gave me one to keep in touch, but it broke a few years ago. Never bothered fixing it. Now, cell phones, those I miss. A thing you can touch, you know, pictures stayed on the screen…”
Abby raises her eyebrows and whispers to Jess. “Think he’s over a hundred?”
Jess shrugs. “It’s possible.” Emma’s nana is a hundred and seven. This guy probably lived right through the Disasters, too.
“Those went out of style when I was a kid,” he mutters, rummaging around under the counter. “Everyone had a cell phone, but companies didn’t do the upkeep for them. This newfangled technology, all them pictures flying around in the air, everything is connected, but you lose one thing and it’s a terrible inconvenience, a hazard—”
Finally he pulls out a DED. The model is at least a decade old; the screen is big and clunky. “You’re welcome to try and get it to work.”
“Thank you,” Jess says, giving him a relieved smile.
“Can I borrow pliers?” Abby asks.
The man turns around and takes a dusty old toolkit off the shelf. “Don’t really know what’s in here,” he admits. “Possible it hasn’t been opened since this was the United States of America.”
Abby grits her teeth. “All right, let’s go see this thing.”
They head out back, and Jess follows her, nervous. Didn’t Abby just say her powers weren’t working?
“I can fix it, powers or no powers,” Abby says. “I still have my brain; I can still make this happen.”
She wrenches open the back and stares at the inside of the DED, then starts pulling at wires. Jess watches as she uses a bit of duct tape to tease out a bit of circuitry and a chip, and then walks them over to the way station’s small solar generator. She fiddles with the wires there, too, until the DED is attached. The screen lights up. “Got a network,” she says. “Weak, but it’s there.”
Abby holds the DED out to Jess. “Try it.”
Jess presses on the power button and it flickers to life with a few weak projections in the air. When she presses VOICE COMMUNICATION LINK: ENTER CITIZEN IDENTIFICATION #: there’s a dial tone.
Jess whoops and jumps for joy. She wraps Abby close and kisses her ardently on the mouth.
Abby laughs. “It wasn’t anything.”
“We got this,” Jess says. “We made it here and we’re gonna get home. It’ll be fine.”
She calls her parent’s emergency line, the one that goes to both their office and their personal DED’s.
“Hello? Smasher here,” her mom’s voice says calmly over the line.
“Mom? It’s me,” Jess says.
“Jess! Where have you been?” her mom asks in a whisper. “Things are really terrible. I heard from the League that they’re looking for a whole bunch of villains on the loose; they’re out and about causing chaos, they already blew up this facility where… Oh gosh, where you’ve gone hiking before? Where are you now? Your friends are here; they’re looking for you!”
“Can you come pick me up?” Jess says. “I’m at the alien way station. I’ll explain everything later. I just need you and dad to come get me right now.”
“Of course, Mei Mei,” her mom says softly. “Your dad is all charged up. He’ll fly your way and bring you right back home.”
“I’ve got Abby with me. We both need to get back; I don’t think dad can fly us both.”
“I see. Well, you’re only about forty minutes from the city. I’ll take the Smashmobile. Be there soon.”
And then there’s nothing to do but wait. The attendant takes pity on them and gives them bottles of water and a slice of hot pizza. She and Abby eat it quickly. It tastes heavenly after two days of nothing but water and protein bars, and they scarf it down, enjoying the cheese.
They sit so Abby can take a few moments to concentrate. “Anything?”
“Nothing,” Abby says. “It’s like my power’s completely gone.”
“This is horrible. If they have the power to turn off the gene and turn it on in anyone they want, they can do all sorts of ridiculous things.”
“De-power people who threaten them, create more meta-humans whenever they want.”
Jess spots the sleek black car pull up. Abby lets out a low whistle. “Wow. So you drive the minivan and your mom drives this, huh?”
Jess laughs. “Yeah, it’s my mom’s baby. I have a license, in case of emergencies, though.”
“Was that a be impressed with my driver’s license line?” Abby asks.
“Uh. Depends. Did it work?”
Abby shakes with laughter. “I’ll tell you later.”
Li Hua rushes out of the vehicle, in full Smasher attire, bright red body suit and the huge boxing gloves. “Here to rescue you,” she says. “Hello, Abby. Jess.”
They’re in the car before Jess starts with the story; the beginning, all of it. Her mother listens quietly as she drives; her face betrays no emotion when Jess explains she’s been working for her parents’ archrival.
“I’ve been thinking something was fishy,” she says. “I never liked the League much; it was always a huge name for your father, he was obsessed with getting to be a real hero. They kept promising all sorts of things, like upping our powers to A-level, and filling his head with dreams and promises that our powers and our contributions were useful and could help people.”
“But we never were really helping people, I saw that. But it was easy; I spent so much time in Meta-Human Training that I didn’t have a degree and couldn’t go into another career if I wanted to. I had to rely completely on the government, and then I was pregnant with Claudia and we needed to make the right choices. Being a hero meant guaranteed housing and a salary, and that was important.”
Abby is silent, and Jess nods. She knows how hard her parents have worked.
“Not everyone got that choice, though,” Abby says quietly. “My parents were told to be villains from the very start. You guys got comic books and merchandise and people who look up to you, and my parents get booed whenever they go out in costume.”
“It’s not a fair system,” Li Hua says. “I know it isn’t. I’m just saying it was easy to stay rather than change. But I guess it’s too late for that now. Whatever you did sparked a huge change. Nothing is going to be the same now.”
“That much is true,” Jess says. “Mom, have you heard from Bells?”
“Not since your birthday party, why?”
“Yeah, he has the footage of Orion—the real Orion, telling everyone about the terrible experiments. We’re planning to just put it online for people to see.”
The radio’s pop station suddenly switches to news. “This just in. Chameleon has gone rogue and teamed up with the Villain’s Guild. The general public especially in Andover must be immediately aware of Chameleon, who can disguise themselves as any person. Make sure who you’re with is really who they should be, ask security questions only they would know. This is a public service announcement. Chameleon is at large and dangerous, and as far as the Heroes’ League knows, he is fully charged and can maintain a disguise for at least ten minutes before recharging. This is a public service announcement.”
Jess and Abby look at each other in horror.
“So that means Bells did escape with the information,” Abby says.
“But we don’t know where he and your mom are,” Jess repeats. “Mom, you said my friends were at the house. Was it Emma and Bells?”
“Bells, Bells, no, just your friend Emma and one of your other friends, Denise. I haven’t seen her at our house in a few years. It’s so nice that all of you are getting along again.”
Jess raises her eyebrows. As far as she knows, Emma still hasn’t forgiven Denise for that incident in the seventh grade.
“Could that be Bells?” Abby asks.
“Probably. Step on it, Mom!”
They get back to the Tran house, and Emma is indeed sitting in the living room with Jess’ dad and also… Denise Ho.
“Bells?” Jess asks.
“How’d you know?” Bells asks with a grin.
“You always sit like this with Emma, with your hips tilted just so. Also, you left a tuft of pink in your hair, right here,” Jess says, tugging the small lock.
“Ah, I couldn’t resist. Your dad totally didn’t notice, though!” Bells says, standing up. He drops the disguise, and then it’s his usual face, dark brown skin and bright amber eyes looking curiously at them.
Victor and Li Hua look at Bells and then at each other in surprise. “Chameleon,” Victor says, as if he’s torn between asking Bells for his autograph and still wanting to treat him like Jess’ best friend.
Bells beams. “So I’ve got the datachip. How do we blow this joint apart?”
“We were counting on Abby to use her powers to connect it to the Net and make sure it plays in every home,” Jess says. “But Abby’s powers aren’t working.”
“That serum really worked?” Bells asks in horror. “That means they can de-power anyone they want to!”
“What serum?” the parents both ask.
Jess explains about Orion’s plan to control all the meta-humans.
“We have to stop them,” Li Hua says.
Everyone starts talking at once. There are too many ideas to sort through, and no, Jess doesn’t think “storm the castle” would work. Emma thinks it could be resolved by sitting Orion down to a nice dinner, while Victor and Li Hua don’t seem very keen on the idea of facing down the superhero. Jess clears her throat.
“First, in order to get this video public, we need to find Abby’s dad.”
“Bells, where did my mom go?” Abby asks.
“Back to your house. Emma and I dropped her off. I think she wanted to get some stuff before she went back to look for your dad.”
“No, no, no,” Abby says. “She needs more time to recover; she can’t be thinking about going to find him already! She won’t be strong enough right now, they’ll just capture her again, and it’ll be awful.”
Jess blinks. “We have to go!”
Her mom tosses her the keycard to the Smashmobile, and Jess looks up in surprise. “Really?”
“Yes, go ahead. Your father and I will fly. You four can go in the car.”
The keycard is hot in Jess’ hand, and she grips it, so ready. Jess starts the engine, and it purrs to life; the electronics whizz and crackle with energy. “Welcome, Smasher,” the computer says smoothly, and the stylized fist logo lights up on the display.
“Very cool,” Abby says, sliding into the passenger seat. Emma and Bells are still in the driveway. Bells has already shifted into his Chameleon outfit, his mask twitching as he scowls.
“We should take you home, it’s too dangerous,” Bells says.
Emma puts her hands on her hips, drawing herself up to her full height, which barely reaches Bells’ shoulders. “Excuse me, what’s dangerous is you gallivanting all over Andover and Devonport playing hero and not telling me! If you all are going, I’m going,” she says.
Bells looks helplessly at the car.
“Just get in the car, we’re wasting time,” Jess says. “You guys can argue over who can protect who later.”
They get back on the road, and head right for Abby’s house.
“This is great,” Emma says from the backseat. “I mean, the situation’s not great, but this is pretty awesome, right? All of us going to save the day? We should have a team name.”
Jess smiles to herself; next to her, she can see Abby’s anxious face relax a little as Emma rattles off potential names and Bells shoots them down.
When they get to Abby’s home, it’s clear that they’re too late.
The door is hanging open, and there’s a distinct scent of ozone and burnt hair.
“Mom? Mom!” Abby yells and rushes inside.
The three of them rush in after her, picking their way around the destroyed living room.
“This is the last time you’ve been noncompliant with the League rules,” Captain Orion yells from the hallway, tossing a statuette down the stairs. It shatters.
“Hey, I made that!” Abby says. “Don’t touch my mother!”
Mistress Mischief rises triumphant from the basement, costume glittering and eyes hard as steel. Captain Orion is flung into the wall.
“Stay out of this, everyone!” Mischief yells.
Emma picks up a broken piece of the coffee table and hurls the chunk at Orion. “You’re a fake and a liar and a kidnapper and—your dumb hair products never work!”
Orion snarls, her fingers crackling with energy, and she blasts a bolt of lightning at Emma.
“No!” Bells pushes Emma out of the way to safety, barely making it himself. The lightning grazes him, and Jess can smell singed hair.
“Stop, Mom!” Abby yells. “Just restrain her with the tantalum. We have some in storage!”
Jess runs downstairs, searching for the precious metal. There are boxes and boxes everywhere, but months at work has made her an expert in filing and she’s got a knack for finding things.
Jess yanks open a lead safe, grabs the tantalum cuffs, and runs upstairs. “I got it, I got it!” Jess yells, shaking the cuffs.
Mistress Mischief levitates them and they float into the air, and for the first time Jess sees the amazing power of telekinesis used in a fight.
Mischief is brutal. She fights ruthlessly with Orion, whose superstrength damages the walls, and the entire house shakes with their battle.
Emma and Bells watch from the floor, curled around each other, as debris whirls. Jess holds onto the doorframe as Mistress Mischief uses her incredible strength to freeze Orion in the air.
“Come on, Mom,” Abby mutters, and raises her hands too, concentrating as if she’s trying to use her own telekinesis.
The cuffs snap on Orion’s wrists, and she falls to the ground, shaking with anger.
“Where is my husband?” Mischief demands.
“You’ll never find him,” Orion says. “He’s already given us the codes for all the MonRobots. This time tomorrow, we’ll have eliminated all the targets we deem fit. And the rest of the League is coming. It doesn’t matter if you have me. If you kill me, I’ll be a martyr. You’ll be known for killing the greatest superhero who ever lived.”
Jess laughs. “You are not the greatest superhero who ever lived. You are a joke. You experimented on innocent people and caused countless suffering for your own power boost, and this whole system is a facade. The Collective is distracting the public from the little wars it’s waging around the world. People have the right to know what’s really going on, and the media needs to report what’s actually happening. We aren’t obsessed with these fake battles that you stage. And the people you force to be villains, that’s not right either. What happens to those kids whose parents you promise so much? You promised Abby could be a hero and shackled her parents, and they willingly sacrificed themselves for her. No one should have to make that choice.”
“No one wants to hear about those sad things,” Orion says. “People have the right to focus on the amusement, the lighter side, and people should be able to hope and feel good that there are heroes protecting them.”
“Yes, but we should have the choice,” Jess says. “It’s not right that the only thing on the news is what’s happening with you and your flirtation with Starscream, and soap operas and what’s going on with your hair.”
“My hair is pretty awesome,” Orion says.
“That’s not the point,” Jess says.
“You weren’t here for the Disasters,” Orion says. She clenches and unclenches her fists; the tantalum cuffs shake but hold fast. “Look, people don’t want to watch the news if it’s filled with awful things. Awful things happened all the time. The X29 solar flare could have ruined our planet, and it almost did. Even without the nuclear meltdowns, the ensuing battle for resources and food would have destroyed us. We needed something positive to focus on.”
Jess realizes Orion wholeheartedly believes in her cause, in the Collective’s cause. “It’s not the time of the Disasters anymore. We’ve gotten past that; we’ve rebuilt as a society, moved forward. We need to be better.”
“She isn’t going to listen,” Mistress Mischief says. She settles on the floor. “Come on, Cindy. It’s time.”
“No one’s called me Cindy in years,” Captain Orion—Cindy—says. “Even my dad calls me Captain.”
“You don’t remember me, but we were in Meta-Human Training together,” Mistress Mischief says. “I’m Genevieve. You used to make fun of my teeth.”
“I do remember,” Captain Orion says. “Look, no hard feelings, okay? You were chosen for the Villain’s Guild because you started to date Phillip. It could have been me, but I wanted to be a superhero. I chose that instead of the guy.”
Abby narrows her eyes. “Wait a minute, you dated my dad?”
“Very briefly,” Orion says. She tosses her head back, regarding Abby with a discerning look. “Philip was very interesting. I dumped him as soon as I knew he was on the villain track, though. The Collective likes to pair people up and make sure that spouses are on the same track; too many complications otherwise.”
Bells pulls Emma to her feet, and they walk toward Orion. Bells stares at her, his lip curling in revulsion.
“And you, Chameleon,” Orion says with a disdainful sniff. “I had such high hopes for you in the League. You have no idea what’s in store for you now; things have already been set in motion.”
“Oh, yeah?” Bells says, scowling. He pulls a chip out of his pocket. “This holovid of you admitting to experimenting on meta-humans, kidnapping all the missing villains, attacking and kidnapping my friends—I’ve got so many copies of this. Even without a technopath we can still be heard.”
Orion shakes and laughs. It’s a shrill, desperate sound, and her entire body shakes on the floor. “You think a holovid like that is enough proof for the people of the Collective? People love me.”
Genevieve takes the chip from Bells, gently laying a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t goad her, she’ll start monologuing, and, even though she’s the one restrained, we’ll all be stuck here.”
“Good point,” Jess says, remembering the long rant she and Abby got back at Orion’s home. “Can we do anything about the video right now?”
Genevieve nods. “I’m not an expert, and it won’t be playing on every DED like we wanted, but at least we can get the word out.”
One of Abby’s computer consoles sits on the kitchen counter projector. She slides the chip into it and taps away at the screen. A holo springs to life: Orion pacing in her home, eyes glittering, saying, “You are nothing more than part of the NAC plan for creating more meta-humans and controlling the ones we have. Of course, we can play with radiation all we like. but we can’t come close to duplicating the effects of X29…”
Glass shatters.
Jess doesn’t have time to see what is happening before Abby pulls her behind the kitchen counter as shards fly everywhere. She peeks up; the beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows she admired so much on her first visit are in pieces, and Claudia is standing there, pulling Orion to her feet.
“I had to wait until I was sure Mistress Mischief here was tapped out, and I had to stop Smasher and Shockwave,” she says.
“Late is better than never, Cora,” Orion snaps.
Claudia grimaces at the incorrect name, but she gingerly takes Orion by the waist, careful to avoid the tantalum cuffs.
Jess lurches forward in horror. “Mom and Dad—what did you do—”
Claudia gives her a hard stare. “Just made sure Shockwave was tapped out. They’re stuck on the other side of town, waiting for a bus, of all things.” She looks at Jess but doesn’t say anything, just sets her jaw and then glances away.
A string of memories run through Jess, and each one hits her in the gut: a young Claudia, taking her torn rice paper and wrapping a new gỏi cuốn for her; Claudia carrying her on her shoulders, promising they’ll fly together one day; the two of them playing hide and seek as children.
Jess is frozen where she stands—even if she could do something, if Claudia’s at full strength or if she’s been taking Orion’s supplements, she can’t take her sister in a fight.
“Let’s go, Powerstorm,” Orion says testily, shaking Claudia out of her stupor.
“Right,” Claudia says, and gives the rest of them a cold look, hovering with Orion. “Good luck being villains.”
They fly out the broken window, and the last thing Jess hears is Orion saying, “You really need to work on your one liners, Connie.”
Things don’t go back to normal right away. Jess thought that it’d be easy; publish the evidence about Orion, show the whole world what’s been happening under their noses. Unfortunately they can’t find any traces of the video on the Net; even the buzz that started on conspiracy forums when they posted it—everything is gone the next day.
They still need to find Master Mischief, but now that Genevieve is back and Jess’ parents are in the loop, the adults want to handle the situation. Jess and her friends are supposed to go back to school, focus on their studies, pretend everything is normal, but Jess doesn’t think Abby will stay put when her dad is still out there. Jess wants answers too, wants the world to know what Orion’s capable of.
“At least wait until you finish your final exams,” Li Hua says testily. “Your grades, Mei-Mei, think about your grades!”
Jess hardly thinks it’s a priority compared with everything that’s going on, but she reluctantly agrees to let the adults work on it until winter break, at least.
Emma still hasn’t given up on coming up with a name for their group, much to everyone else’s amusement and exasperation. Jess is glad she’s taking it well, though.
“Powers? Why would I want powers?” Emma says, shaking her head when Jess pulls her aside at school to talk to her about it. “Look, the way I see it, I’m the only one here who is resistant to tantalum and keeps a cool head when things get rough. Sure, I think powers are neat. But not for me.”
“I thought you’d be upset,” Jess says.
Emma hugs her. “I was just upset when I thought Bells was secretly dating someone and didn’t want to tell us. And he’s not, so everything is fine.”
“Fine, huh?” Jess waggles her eyebrows and is pleased when Emma’s ears turn pink. She doesn’t really know exactly what Bells and Emma talked about when he took her home after the Orion mess to “explain everything,” but she might hazard a guess.
“Yes, fine,” Emma says. “Oh hey, did you see that new transfer student from Nuevo Los Angeles? He’s got dimples, Jess, dimples…”
Ah. Maybe Bells didn’t explain everything.
Abby and Bells are already sitting in their usual lunch spot when Jess and Emma join them, apparently in the middle of a serious conversation.
“Look, you don’t get it, if the League has declared Chameleon as a villain, things are going to get ugly, real fast.” There’s a little furrow of worry in Abby’s brow, and Jess wants to smooth it out. She settles for kissing Abby’s cheek as they sit down, and is delighted when Abby gives her a swift kiss on the lips in return.
“What’s ugly?” Emma asks, stealing Bells’ fruit cup off his lunch tray.
Bells rolls his eyes. “I can handle it,” he says. “Here, look.” He pulls up a newsholo on his DED. It’s an official report from the League that declares the villain Chameleon on the run and collaborating with the United Villain’s Guild for “unknown plans of heinous atrocity.” Bells smirks. “Heinous, that’s great. You think I should add an adjective to my name? The Heinous Chameleon. Or does that sound pretentious?”
“Abby’s right,” Jess says, frowning. “They’re dangerous, and if they’ve decided you’re the enemy…”
Abby nods. “I’ve been dealing with this my whole life. And now that my mom’s back, we’ve taken a lot of extra precautions.” Genevieve and Abby have moved out of their Andover home to a hidden place out in the canyons that Emma is absolutely not allowed to call a secret lair. “You should change your name; your whole family needs new identities, you should move, transfer schools… on paper I’m still Abby Jones, and Orion isn’t going to connect my information to the Monroes at all, but you…”
Bells looks smug. “Well, you’ll be happy to know that my parents being super-paranoid over everything, even Meta-Human Training, has its benefits. I applied to the League as Barry Carmichael, and none of them know what I actually look like.”
“I take back everything I said about your weird family,” Emma says. She flicks through the rest of the newsholo and frowns. “Hey, how come this doesn’t say anything about Jess or Abby?”
Abby shrugs. “Probably because they don’t see either of us as a threat. They don’t know about Jess’ powers, and they think I don’t have them anymore.”
Jess squeezes Abby’s hand.
The physical symptoms disappeared after a few days, but Abby still hasn’t been able to access her powers. She thinks they’re completely gone, but Jess knows Abby’s talked about being able to sense things, like the potential to use her telekinesis or her technopath abilities, but she just can’t, as if there’s a closed door in her head.
Emma pokes Abby in the forehead. “Look, even if you can’t do all that techno mumbo-jumbo, you’re still the best setter in this school—no, the entire Nevada region. If that’s not a superpower, I don’t know what is.”
Abby laughs. “I have definitely missed volleyball.”
“Are you going to come back to the team?” Emma asks, her eyes lighting up.
“Yeah, I think so,” Abby says. “We can’t just sit on our asses and not live our lives while we’re trying to expose a corrupt government,” Abby says.
One Saturday, Abby convinces Jess to come with her to the school. Jess follows her warily until they get to the gymnasium, and Abby unlocks the storage closet and pulls out a volleyball.
Jess ties her hair back, not bothering to check how it looks. She looks around the empty gymnasium. “Are you sure about this? Aren’t we like, trespassing or something?”
“Look, the school is funded by tax dollars. I think we can be here. Plus, I have the keys to the gym and if I say you can be here, you can totally be here,” Abby says, grinning.
“I’m not an athletic person,” Jess warns.
“This isn’t about that. It’s about having fun!” Abby tosses the volleyball in the air, and bounces it on her forearm. Abby’s skin turns pink and shiny with the impact. Abby keeps bouncing the ball, keeping it in rhythm. She aims the ball and sends it flying toward Jess in a slow, easy arc.
Jess throws her hands up and shrieks; the ball hits her hands and falls to the ground.
Abby laughs. “That was a good start. Figuring out where the ball is and protecting yourself! It’s awesome. Okay, this time, try hitting it back toward me.”
“I’m not good at this, okay,” Jess says. “I’m not sporty like you.”
“This isn’t about being sporty or not. That’s not… it’s not even a thing. It’s just about practice and hard work. I think certain people are inclined to like it or start off liking it better than others, but ninety-nine percent of all sports—or anything, really—is a person just working really, really hard at their craft. Like… okay, you know how you are with your writing? I’m not anywhere near as good as you are. Like that time you were talking about imagery and symbolism and like, I don’t even know how to do any of that. How did you get good at that?”
“Practice.”
“Right! You weren’t born an amazing writer. You worked at it, read a lot, got better at it over time. Same with me and volleyball. We do training and conditioning, and I can say for every kid who’s supposedly a natural talent, there’s another person who works their ass off and gets better than that person. You can’t coast by on talent alone. It’s hard work that makes all the difference.”
Jess nods.
Abby tosses the volleyball in the air and gives it a careful spin. “Okay, you ready?”
Jess holds her arms together in the position that Abby taught her and stands with her feet apart.
Abby tosses the ball and then lobs it over, and this time Jess hits it back.
Abby catches it, and then jumps up and down in excitement. “Woo! You did it, you did it!”
Jess blushes. “It wasn’t that amazing.”
Abby tosses the ball aside and rushes toward Jess, hugs her and picks her off the floor, spins her in a circle. They tumble, laughing, to the floor. The gym smells of old sweat and the lights are too bright, but they might as well be in the most romantic place in the world. Abby’s hair tangles with Jess’, and then Jess, emboldened, leans forward for a kiss.
“Okay, that was amazing,” Jess admits.
Abby laughs and laughs and laughs.
“What’s this?” Abby asks as she takes the blue journal.
Jess twists her hands. It seemed like a good idea this morning. Abby was sharing something she enjoyed with her, and she wanted to do the same. “It’s just some stories and stuff that I’ve written.”
Abby opens the cover and looks at the handwriting on the first page. “By Jess Tran,” she announces to the room. “Your handwriting is so cute here.”
“Ah, that’s from when I was twelve. I’ve had this journal for a while. I keep filling it with stuff, just random ideas. There’s a longer story that I’ve been working on in the back. It’s an adventure story. It starts… right here.” She flips to the most recent section, and Abby’s hand curls around hers.
“Thank you for letting me see this,” Abby says softly. “I know it’s hard to show someone what you’re working on.”
Jess flushes. “Well, you’re important to me, and I care what you think, so… yeah. Here it is.”
Abby grins. “Am I gonna see, like, hearts doodled around my name anywhere?”
Jess snorts. “That’s a different notebook.”
Abby holds the notebook in one hand and takes Jess’ hand in the other, pulling her close for a kiss. “I like your stories,” she whispers. “And I knew that our characters in the one we were writing for Rhinehart—that you imagined them to be us, because I did too. I was hoping you’d pick up on it sooner.”
“You knew?” Jess’ eyes widen. She pulls back so abruptly she bumps into Abby’s nose. “But—then you knew about my hugely awkward crush on you!”
“Yeah, but you also told M that,” Abby says, raising her eyebrows. “That never occurred to you?”
“Yes, I mean, but like, I did know but I was too caught up in the whole rescue-your-parents thing I just… forgot.”
“You are so cute when you’re embarrassed. You’re just realizing it now, aren’t you?”
“Đụ!” Jess curses and buries her face in her hands. “I talked about you to your face, oh my God, how did you let me do that?”
Abby laughs. “It was kinda funny. I mean, I didn’t know you very well at the time, but it was really interesting, and I did learn some interesting things about what you thought about me.”
“Look, I didn’t know you then, I just… I don’t know. I had this crush on this idea of you as a person, but then it developed into something real once we started hanging out and then it was worse, oh gosh, the feelings…” Jess shuffles backward, nearly falling, but Abby steadies her with an arm around the waist.
“Hmm, pesky feelings.” Abby kisses her on the nose, making Jess giggle, and then kisses her again on the lips.
On Monday, Ms. Rhinehart passes back their completed short stories. “Good job, everyone,” she says. “I’m quite pleased with your progress, especially the collaborative effort from everyone. My favorite thing about this assignment was seeing writers with different styles pair up and how everyone learned by doing. And you might not think I’d recognize it, but I did warn you not to let one person do all the work, and I’m quite proud to say that everyone gave their best effort and did collaborate. I’m in touch with a local literary magazine, and I suggest you all submit your pieces to it.”
Everyone looks at their grades, and Abby and Jess hold their folder, looking at each other.
Jess takes the first step, tossing back the protective cover.
“What is it? Don’t tell me—okay tell me—okay no, all right, now I’m ready,” Abby says.
“We got an A,” Jess says.
“Oh,” Abby says, eyes widening in awe. “Oh, that’s awesome!”
They look through the document together, reading Ms. Rhinehart’s comments on the story, laughing at one of the appreciated jokes, and then they get to the end.
Jess reads aloud, her smile broadening as she goes. “This ending is nice, but a bit vague. If you do a bit of polish, this would be an excellent work for publication. What happens after they defeat the evil Schuester? Do Rebecca and Michelle have a happy ending?”
Jess looks at Abby, and she thinks about the future. There’s a lot in question, what with figuring out what the government plans for the heroes and the villains, and she has no idea how to make sure that this doesn’t happen again, but she has Abby at her side.
“Yeah, I definitely think so,” Abby says. Under the table, she squeezes Jess’ hand.
“Most definitely a happy ending.”
It’s a Thursday afternoon, and Jess is at Abby’s home again, and this time there’s no pretense of studying or working on a writing assignment. The new house is full of light and the reflected red hues of the canyons that surround it.
Jess is sitting on a half-assembled couch in the space that will be the living room, laughing as plates of food float in the air.
“Mom, I said we’re fine, we already had a snack—” Abby shakes her head, and the plate of cookies flies back toward Genevieve.
“Yeah, but dessert! Oh, but we’re out of milk. I can go down to the store and buy some. Jess, you’re staying for dinner? What would you like? Oh, this pantry is so empty, I hate it. Abby, what did you eat while I was gone? Please tell me it wasn’t just Jacks’ grilled cheese sandwiches.” Genevieve wrings her hands, and a plate of chocolate chip cookies wafts toward Jess. “Is chocolate chip okay? I made peanut butter, too, they should be ready—oh!”
The oven dings and the door opens with a flick of Genevieve’s wrist. The cookies fly out of the oven and onto another plate, which then flies toward the living room. Genevieve insisted on making cookies today instead of continuing to unpack boxes.
Abby buries her face in her hands.
Jess takes the plates, laughing. “Thank you, Mrs. Monroe. Er, Mrs. Jones? Your Mischiefness?”
Genevieve chortles, waving her hands at Jess. “Oh dear, Gena is fine.” She leans on the kitchen counter, giving them an indulgent smile.
“We’re going to be in my lab. Mom, don’t wear yourself out with cookies. I’m serious.” Abby rolls her eyes, but Jess can tell she’s pleased to tease her mother like this.
Abby’s new lab is already cluttered, boxes open and workstations haphazardly set up, scattered with moving holos that show Abby’s older projects. It’s fun to see the evolution of her MonRobot designs through the years, and holos that picture Abby and her parents.
Abby lingers at one of her and her dad, grinning at each other over a workstation. She traces the flickering edges with a wistful smile on her face.
“We’ll find him. Don’t worry,” Jess says.
Abby gives her a grateful smile. “Thanks. C’mon, I have something to show you.”
There’s something on the farthest worktable under a canvas drop cloth. A few lights flicker, and it comes to life as Jess gets closer, and a familiar oblong silver case wheels out from under the fabric, meeping at Jess.
“Chả!” Jess shrieks. The robot cheeps at her and wheels about in circles around her feet. Jess gasps. “Already?”
“Yeah, of course. I know you love that thing. I made a few improvements in motor functions, but the A.I. is exactly the same, so it shouldn’t—”
Chả starts vacuuming, cheeping rapidly, as if it’s excited. It spins back and forth on the tiled floor of the workroom, confused, and then rolls right under one of the worktables and promptly gets stuck.
Jacks and Jills are watching from the corner, and both of them meep and hover forward. Jess is pleased to notice that Abby could have upgraded Chả to the newest design, even given it the ability to fly, but she kept the original shape and functions.
“I, ah, I can fix that,” Abby says, twirling a finger in her hair. “I mean, I’m so used to building things with my powers, I probably messed up when I was—”
Jess curls an arm around her waist and draws her close, kissing her without hesitation.
Abby kisses her right back.
The robots spin about them, making celebratory-sounding noises. Jess opens her eyes and realizes that Chả is chasing Jacks and Jills, like a disobedient puppy. She laughs, picks up the robot, runs a hand along Chả’s new silver casing, and laughs. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
Jess’ DED lights up with a new notification—a message from Emma.
“Hey, there’s a new episode of The Gentleman Detective out,” Jess says. “We usually watch it with Bells. Wanna come?”
Abby raises an eyebrow. “Weren’t we going to try and figure out what to do about the corrupt League and the NAC cover up? I know that my mom said to wait, but—”
“Hmmm,” Jess says. “That’s not going to get done in one night, and you know we’ve done all we could. Pretty sure the only thing we could do at this point is wait and worry about what they’re going to do next.”
“That’s true,” Abby admits. “So we might as well have fun and be normal for a night, right?”
Jess laughs. “Well, I hardly think we’ll ever be normal, but I heard that’s overrated.”