Girl Power Omnibus (Gender Swap Superhero Fiction) Page 22

  “God, don’t call it that. We’re just going together—as friends.”

  “Yes, of course. As friends.”

  Robin frowns into the mirror again. She hasn’t looked so girly since Dr. Roboto dressed her up as “Midnight Cutie.” The light green dress with all its frills and pleats makes her want to barf. The nylons are even worse. And these goddamned heels; whoever invented those had to be a sadistic man.

  She’s about to get up when Jasper stops her. He has a flat black velvet box. When he opens it, Robin puts a hand to her mouth in shock. “I can’t wear that,” she says.

  “I think your mother would want you to wear them on a night like this.”

  “Jasper, please. I don’t want to.”

  “Come now, Mistress Robin, just try it on.”

  “Fine, but only for a second. Then you can put it back in the vault.”

  “Of course.”

  Her hair is already pinned up, so it’s easy enough for him to slip the silver necklace on her. The leaf-shaped emeralds along the necklace wink at her in the light. Robin remembers when she was a little boy and had watched Dad give Mom this necklace for Valentine’s Day. “For the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said and then kissed her, which had made Robin turn away.

  “It is quite fetching if I must say,” Jasper says.

  She touches the necklace with one hand. A tear leaks from her right eye. More threaten to come out and ruin her mascara and eyeliner before she even gets to the door. Mom had worn this necklace every day—except the one she died. Then it had been at the jeweler’s to have the clasp repaired after Robin had torn it when latching onto his mother’s neck. Though it was stupid, Robin had blamed the necklace—and herself—for their deaths that night. Robin had kept it locked up in the vault since Mom’s death, not having the heart to get rid of something so beautiful.

  “I’ll take it off,” Jasper says.

  “No,” she whispers. “I…I think you’re right. I think Mom would want me to have it.”

  She dabs at her eye with a tissue and then stands up. “I’d better get downstairs.”

  She’s on the last step when there’s a knock on the door. Robin brushes a hand along the dress while Jasper hurries past to get the door. She waits on the bottom step for him to usher Robin’s “date” inside.

  Melanie Amis shuffles into the foyer, her head looking down. She wears a pale yellow dress that’s just as frilly as Robin’s. She hasn’t mastered heels yet, so she wears flats, which will at least help to even out the height difference between them. Like Robin’s, her brown hair is pinned back with one tendril framing the right side of her face.

  “Hi,” Melanie says.

  “You’re looking very fetching tonight, Miss Amis.”

  “Thanks.”

  When Melanie looks up, Robin sees she ditched the glasses, at least for tonight. “You got contacts?” Robin asks as she walks across the foyer.

  “Mom says they bring out my ‘natural beauty,’” Melanie says. A little of her old spirit returns when she says, “I wanted to get some red ones or maybe yellow ones.”

  “That would have been awesome.”

  “If you girls wouldn’t mind, I’d just like to get a picture,” Jasper says.

  Robin squeezes in tight against Melanie. They both smile slightly before Jasper pushes the button. He takes a half-dozen shots, not understanding the mechanics of a digital camera. “You girls have a nice time,” he says. “Remember, your curfew is midnight.”

  “I know,” Robin says.

  “And no monkey business.”

  “I’m sure we don’t have to worry about uncovering criminal conspiracies at the prom.”

  “That may be so, but I know you.”

  “We aren’t going to get in any trouble. We’re going to go, drink some stupid punch, listen to some crappy music, and come home, all right?”

  “That a girl.”

  She leans up to kiss him on the cheek. Then she takes Melanie’s hand to lead her outside, to where the limo is waiting. They could have had Jasper drive, but Melanie’s mother insisted on using their car. She has gotten much more protective of her son since he became her daughter.

  Once they’re on their way, Robin pats Melanie’s knee. “You look nice.”

  “Thanks. So do you. That necklace is really pretty.”

  “It belonged to my mom.”

  “Oh.”

  Robin sighs and turns to the window. Since Melvin became Melanie, she’s become so shy. It is a big change, as Robin knows all too well, but it shouldn’t have changed her personality that much. Sometimes Robin wonders if she should ask Allison to run some tests to check for some abnormality. Maybe Roboto’s ray had done something to her mind the way it had Major Dalton, turning her into a simpering coward.

  But Robin suspects it’s just plain old psychological trauma. She wouldn’t think it would be this hard for Melanie since she wasn’t a jock or anything like that. How big of a difference was it to be a female geek instead of a male one?

  She turns back to Melanie and says, “I’m glad you decided to come. I’d hate to do this by myself.”

  Her new therapist, Dr. Kitty Hanover, had suggested Robin go to the senior prom to aid her “transition.” As if wearing this stupid five hundred dollar dress and these ludicrous heels and Mom’s necklace would have her baking cookies and entering beauty pageants or whatever she and Jasper thought Robin should be doing with her life.

  Even if Dr. Hanover hadn’t suggested it, Robin would have asked Melanie to come. For one thing only losers showed up alone and who else could Robin ask? She doesn’t have any other friends at Swearingen. There was that three hundred pound kid with the harelip who had asked her out. At the moment Harelip might be more scintillating conversation.

  When the limo stops at the curb by the hotel hosting the prom, Melanie remains frozen in place. “We’re here,” Robin says. “Come on.”

  “I don’t want to go,” Melanie whispers. “They’ll all make fun of me.”

  “No one will make fun of you.”

  “They all think I’m a freak.”

  “They thought that before you became a girl.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  Robin leans forward to brush the stray lock of hair behind Melanie’s ear. “Mel, I know it’s hard. It hasn’t been a cakewalk for me either—”

  “But no one knows you used to be a boy. They all know who I used to be.”

  “Listen to me, Mel. You don’t have to take any shit from those trust fund brats in there. You’re a hero. You saved all their lives. You saved my life. Hell, you saved the Super Squad! If it weren’t for you, Roboto would have turned all of them into sissies who’d be doing his bidding. So stop feeling sorry for yourself and walk in there with your head up.

  “Maybe those jerks think you’re a freak, but so what? I know you’re smart and brave and sweet—” She stops as her lips touch Melanie’s. She has never wondered what it’s like to kiss a girl as a girl, but it doesn’t seem any different than she remembers. The only difference is this is Melanie, her best friend. Her only friend. She pulls back. “I’m sorry.”

  Melanie’s eyes are wide. She blinks a few times and then whispers, “That was awesome.”

  “You think so?”

  “Can we try it again?”

  It’s twenty minutes of kissing and pawing later when they finally go into the hotel’s ballroom for the prom. They walk in arm-in-arm to display their confidence. Heads turn in their direction. Melanie stiffens as there are a few snickers, but Robin keeps her from running away. “It’s all right. I’ve got you.”

  They go over to the bar for a couple of Shirley Temples. Robin would love a real drink, but this is a high school event so all the booze is put away. She and Melanie squeeze into a corner to sip from their cups.

  The bad girl who harassed Robin the day she and Melvin met stomps up to them with her entourage in tow. They’re dressed in everyday clothes as their way to protest against t
he establishment or whatever. The bad girl sneers at Robin. “Brought your girlfriend, huh?”

  “So did you.”

  “You think you’re funny, pipsqueak?” the girl shoves Robin back into the wall. “You and the freak should go to one of those lesbian bars to hang out with the rest of the queers.”

  “Leave us alone,” Melanie says quietly.

  “Or what? You’ll cry like a little bitch and have your girlfriend save you?”

  “No.” Melanie does a textbook leg sweep to knock the girl off her feet. This is followed by a kick to the girl’s midsection. “I’ll save myself.”

  The girl’s entourage glares at Melanie. Robin takes a step forward. “You girls want to throw down, we’re ready. Or you can take Princess here and get lost.”

  The girls study Robin and Melanie for a moment. Then they grab their leader by the armpits to haul her away. Robin’s sure they’ll plot revenge for on Monday, but for now she and Melanie have won.

  Robin pats Melanie on the shoulder. “That was great. You’re a quick learner.”

  “Thanks.”

  Perhaps for the sake of irony, the DJ plays “Endless Love,” which Robin remembers from her first senior prom. Back then she had danced with Stacey Chang, who had been the only non-white girl who wasn’t serving drinks. During the dance Robin had copped a feel of Stacey’s ass, which had prompted her to slap Robin.

  “How are your dance moves?” she asks Melanie.

  “Um—”

  “Come on, it’s not much different than fighting. Only no one gets hurt.” She takes Melanie’s hand and drags her out onto the dance floor. “Just lean up against me and take it nice and slow.”

  Robin keeps her hand on Melanie’s back as they glide along the dance floor. Melanie rests her head on Robin’s shoulder. Robin can hear her friend crying softly. “What’s wrong? If it’s about that girl—”

  “No. I’ve…I’ve been wanting to do this with you for months. Since you saved me from Barf. After what happened…I didn’t think I’d ever get to.”

  “Well you were wrong, weren’t you?”

  Melanie looks up at her with tears in her eyes. “I love you.”

  Robin comes to a stop on the dance floor. Her mouth opens but no sound will come out. She hasn’t said the L-word to anyone since Christy Connor was butchered. She hadn’t let herself get involved with anyone since then, to protect herself—and them. But as Jasper would be quick to point out, she’s not Midnight Spectre anymore. She’s just Robin Holloway, a scrawny little high school senior with a C- average.

  “I…I love you too,” she whispers.

  “You mean it?”

  “Would I have tongued you in the limo if I didn’t?” she says, trying to put some of her old sarcasm into the words. They stagger off the dance floor, back to their corner as the song winds down.

  “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”

  “No, you didn’t ruin anything.”

  “I wanted to say it in the hospital, but Mom was always around or a nurse and then I wasn’t sure how you felt about me and by the time I got back to school it was easier not to say it, you know?”

  “I know.”

  “Are you mad?”

  “What? No. I’m just…surprised. The way you’ve been acting since the change, I didn’t really expect it.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t have tongued you in the limo if I didn’t, would I?”

  “Smart ass,” Robin says with a smile. She takes Melanie’s hand. “Come on, Jasper’s not expecting us until midnight. Let’s ditch these losers and have some fun.”

  They’re back in the limo making out when Robin’s phone rings. From the ringtone, she knows it’s Jasper. “It’ll go to voicemail,” she whispers to Melanie.

  It doesn’t, which means he must be using the phone in the bunker. That can only mean it’s an emergency. “Hold on,” she says, leaving Melanie with her lips puckered in mid-kiss. She takes the phone out of her purse. “What’s up?”

  “Colonel Storm just called.”

  “Storm? I thought he retired.”

  “It appears he’s been reactivated since Major Dalton’s arrest.”

  “Oh. What does he want?”

  “He wouldn’t give specifics, but he indicated there’s a grave threat to national security.”

  “So? Have him call Starla or Allison. That’s what they’re on the payroll for.”

  “He already has. He indicated he would like you to sit in on the briefing. Only as a consultant, of course.”

  Robin looks over at Melanie, who’s wearing a concerned look. The last time Robin stuck her nose in a grave threat to national security Melvin ended up as Melanie. Robin promised herself after that she would retire Midnight Spectre. Still, if it’s only as a consultant—

  Melanie snatches the phone from her. “We’ll be right there,” she says and then pushes the off button.

  “You heard that?”

  “I got the gist.”

  “Look, Mel, you can’t be part of this. Not after what happened—”

  “No, Rob, you’re right: I’m a hero. We’re heroes. We saved the Super Squad. We saved the whole world. We can’t quit now when the world needs us.”

  “They only asked for me. You can stay home, where it’s safe.”

  “The hell with that. We’re a team: Midnight Spectre and the Outcast, remember?”

  Robin considers this for a moment. The pleading in Melanie’s eyes is finally too much for her. “Let’s do it.”

  Book 2: The Impostors

  Part 1

  Chapter 1

  Apex Girl has been inside military courtrooms before. In her previous life as Stan Shaw, mild-mannered reporter for the Atomic City Star, he had often covered trials of soldiers accused of misdeeds. This is the first time that she has gone as a superhero—and as a victim.

  Starla Marsh shifts uncomfortably in her chair as she glances over at the accused. The former Major Carrie Dalton—now a mere civilian—sits at her table with a dopey grin plastered to her face. It’s the same dopey grin she has worn throughout the trial. Her army lawyer had tried to argue that since Dr. Roboto had hypnotized her, Dalton’s mind had become equivalent to that of a mentally challenged teenager. This argument had fallen on deaf ears, but as Starla watches Dalton, she can believe it.

  The doors at the front of the room open and everyone gets to their feet as the tribunal returns. While Dalton seems unconcerned, Starla and the rest of Dalton’s victims tense up. Even Midnight Spectre—by far the hardest of them psychologically—lets a flicker of concern flash across her face for a moment.

  As the tribunal judges sit down, Starla does the same. So does everyone except Dalton, who has to be yanked down by her lawyer. Though it’s unbecoming for a superhero, Starla wrings her hands as she waits for the sentence to be read.

  An army general reads the verdict. For her treasonous actions against the United States and the world, Dalton is sentenced to death by firing squad. He bangs his gavel to finalize the verdict.

  “Can I go home now?” Dalton asks with the high-pitched sunniness of a little girl. Her lawyer whispers something into her ear, but it’s clear Dalton doesn’t understand she’s going to die as soon as the government can manage it.

  “About fucking time,” Midnight Spectre grumbles.

  Starla knows she should agree with this sentiment, but she doesn’t. She always tries to avoid killing her enemies, believing everyone has a bit of good in them that with the right nurturing can come out. But she also believes in the fairness and impartiality of the justice system. That system has decreed Dalton will die. There’s nothing Apex Girl can do about it without violating her principles. And as much as she hates to admit it, Dalton probably does deserve it for working with Dr. Roboto to try to change all of the world’s men into women, as she’d done to Apex Girl and the rest of the Super Squad.

  Velocity Gal pats her hand. “Are you all right?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Starla says. She tries to s
mile. That’s harder when she sees Kate King among the throng of reporters outside the courtroom.

  Given the number of times Kate has interviewed her over the last year, Starla’s not surprised when Kate steps up to her to ask, “How do you feel about the verdict?”

  “I feel that justice has been done,” Starla says.

  “Are you going to be there for the execution?”

  “I hope not.” She tries to escape, but Kate blocks her path. With a flick of her hand she can send Kate flying down the corridor, but she won’t; Kate is doing her job with her usual amount of tenacity.

  “Do you have anything to say to Dalton?”

  “No. I want to get past this.”

  When she sees Billy Leyton heading towards her with his camera, Apex Girl finally does brush Kate aside, albeit gently. She can’t run quite as fast as Velocity Gal, but it’s fast enough to get her out of the building. Once she’s safely outside, she takes to the air.

  She never likes Billy to get too close to her. If he does, he might recognize her as Starla Marsh, the Star’s copy editor who has become Billy’s good friend in the last year. That might not only make things awkward between them but also put Billy in danger.

  She doesn’t fly very far, only to Andrews Air Force Base. A plane is already on the runway to take Dalton back to Guantanamo Bay in Cuba. It’s always a sad irony that Dalton is locked up with so many of the villains she and the Super Squad put into the high security wing.

  Velocity Gal is of course already there; it probably took her a half-second to get here from the courtroom. At the moment she has a cell phone pressed to one ear. “I’ll be home a little late tonight,” she says, no doubt to her wife Sally. “I’ll try to get back before Jenny’s in bed. OK, I love you too.”

  Velocity Gal’s cheeks redden a bit as she realizes Starla is there. “You feeling better now?”

  “A little. Being around her in that courtroom makes things fresh, you know?”

  “I know, but at least it will be over soon.”

  “I suppose.” Starla would like to believe that, but she knows it won’t ever be over. Whenever she looks in the mirror she has to see what Dalton, with help from Dr. Roboto and a friend going by the name of the Feminazi, had done to her. While she’s relatively comfortable in her life as Starla Marsh, she still mourns the loss of Stan Shaw’s life, especially his adopted parents. Starla could go to them and tell them what happened to her, but she hasn’t been able to bring herself to do it. She figures it’s better for them to keep thinking their son is dead than to unload another big shock on them.