Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm a Supervillain (43 page)

It didn’t take me long to get home. I should have gone around to the lab and changed back into civilian clothes, but I was physically and emotionally exhausted. What a day. Anyway, the sun had finally set and it was getting pretty dark. I pulled up at the street corner and teleported to my front door so no one would see me walking up to the house in supervillain costume. That hurt, but what was one more ache?

My worries were worse than the physical pain. Stealing a bottle of blood from crooks before a hero could do the same thing? I didn’t feel bad about that, much. Setting Chimera free was another matter. He’d seemed friendly, but he was a serious supervillain. Police might die and were certainly getting hurt, just so he could reenter the community with a little more style than getting beaten to a pulp by Generic Girl.

That was not the game I wanted to be part of. Maybe I should be trying harder to switch over to the hero side. I’d proven I could be a real supervillain. That didn’t mean I had to be one.

I unlocked the door and pushed it open. With my parents out of town, I ought to get the mail. I scooped it out of the mailbox, all those bills and bank notices and official adult letters that all looked the same.

All except one, a pink envelope with fancy gold edging. I pushed the door closed behind me, walked into the kitchen, and laid the mail out on the table so I could look at this different, special envelope. The envelope addressed to me, Penelope Akk. The envelope with no return address or postmark.

I ripped it open, and pulled out a fancy white gold-embossed card.

Bad Penny,

I have been following your career with great interest, and it is time we became personally acquainted. You and The Inscrutable Machine are invited to meet with me at 10 p.m. this Friday in Chinatown, so that I may officially welcome you to the community and we can discuss where you go from here. I strongly suggest you arrive several hours early and enjoy yourselves before the meeting.

Looking Forward to Working with You,

Spider

pider knew who I was.

The note could not be left lying around. I put it in my belt pouch. If it wasn’t safe there, neither were my teleport rings.

I was too tired to take this in. It had been too long a day. Food would help with that. We had some leftover macaroni and cheese. That would be easy to make.

I looked in the fridge. No, we’d finished the macaroni and cheese. It wouldn’t be hard to make some. I got out a couple of packages lurking in the back of the pantry and set a pot of water on to boil. I turned the boxes over to find the instructions, sections of text leaping into focus as the visor of my helmet magnified them. That was confusing enough that I had to flip the visor up.

Oh, right. I was still in supervillain costume. I wasn’t expecting my parents home tonight, but I didn’t want anyone to see me at home dressed like this. I also didn’t want to leave the pot long enough to undress, because, as tired as I was, I might forget it. Vera picked up the other package and started to read it in imitation of me, although she was only slightly bigger than it was.

Vera. No one would see me in costume indoors, but Vera liked windows. I reached up and tapped her crystal ball. “Sleep.” She fell into my other hand as her ceramic casing slid into place. I hurried back to my room and put her behind my computer monitor. Then I hurried back to the kitchen and found the pot boiling.

I tipped in the macaroni, set the timer on my phone, and stared at the opposite wall, kicking my foot. Ten minutes later, the alarm beeped. I drained the macaroni, stirred in cheese, and behold: A convincing simulacrum of food.

I ate it. Slowly, tired and with little appetite, but I ate it.

I felt a bit stronger after that and went back to my room through a silent house. I flipped on my computer, grateful for the whine and whistles as it started. Scooping up my stack of Sentient Life comics, I dropped heavily onto my bed and cracked one open. That left me staring at my gloves. Still in costume.

I pulled the whole costume off and shoved it and my sugar tank under the bed.

Since I was standing again, I wandered back to my computer and clicked on my web browser and favorite programs. My friends list dutifully reported Claire and Ray were online. Nevermind. I shut the programs down again.

Now boredom was the problem. I wanted to play Teddy Bears and Machine Guns, but I could only play it online and Claire and Ray would see me. Most every game I had would have that problem.

I let out a sigh and turned around, leaning against my desk as I stared at my room, wondering what to do. The comics scattered on my bed wouldn’t keep my focus in this mood. I could see one arm of my jumpsuit peeking out from under the edge of my bed, and I couldn’t have that.

I cleaned my room. Might as well. I’d let it get horribly untidy. I had books and shoes and clothes lying around. I put everything away where it was supposed to be and shoved the jumpsuit way back under the bed out of sight. The bed was a mess too. I’d kicked the covers loose again. I went and got new sheets and remade it. On the way I saw my macaroni bowl sitting on the kitchen table, so after I remade my bed I went and washed all the dishes.

Drying my hands afterwards, I looked at my phone. Nine forty-five. That would do. My whole body was falling out from under me with exhaustion. I went to bed.

I woke up to bright sunshine and stared at the white, bumpy spackled ceiling. I’d gotten used to waking up and feeling nicely lazy about lying around. The exercise and satisfaction of supervillainy made for pleasantly relaxed mornings. Not this time. I couldn’t lie here for long. I felt much too tense.

The reason for that was obvious.

Spider knew who I was.

He knew my name, my real name and my supervillain identity. He knew where I lived. He knew who my parents were. That had to be why he contacted me. The insincerely friendly letter screamed blackmail.

He was going to use me to get at my parents.

No. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t. When I refused, Spider would reveal my identity to the world, and even my parents would have to believe it.

Everyone would know I’m a supervillain. I would never get to be a superhero. Who would trust me? Even my parents wouldn’t trust me. They’d watch me, never let me use my super powers again. I would have to say goodbye to that crazy, all-knowing thing in the back of my head. I might not get to say goodbye to Ray and Claire. There was no way they’d let me hang out with my partners in crime anymore.

I might get sent to jail. Probably not. But maybe.

My phone rang. I lay in my bed and let it ring. I had bigger problems. What would I do? I had no idea. Was there anything I could hope to do against the ruler of the supervillain underworld in LA?

The doorbell rang. I tried to lie there staring at the ceiling, but it rang again. Someone at the door was harder to ignore than a phone call.

I grabbed a sweater and sweat pants, the fastest clothes I could pull on, and went and answered the door.

It opened to reveal painfully bright sunshine and Marvelous, smiling at me. I’d last seen her drugged and glued to a floor. The disconnect left me feeling off-balance. She’d lost a couple of inches of hair from my fabric-eating enzyme mixture, but didn’t look bothered by that at all.

Her voice chirped happily as she reached out and ruffled the top of my head. “Wow, I’ve never seen you without your hair braided. No wonder!”

“Yeah, it goes everywhere,” I admitted.

Leaning forward to look past me into the house, she asked, “Can I talk to Brian?”

“He’s at the conference. You can call him as easily as I can.” I sounded crabby, but I wasn’t sure how not to right now.

Marvelous didn’t take it badly. She smiled even more. “I know. The thing is, I don’t just want to talk to him. I want to show him something.”

I swallowed my reply, because obviously she felt an email or webcam wouldn’t do the job. I couldn’t just brush this off. I pulled out my phone and dialed up Dad.

“Is everything alright, Princess?” he asked as he picked up. His cheerful tone suggested he had a lot more confidence in me than I did right now.

Dutifully, I said, “Marvelous wants to talk to you, Dad. Are you able to use your video chat system where you are?”

“Sure. My laptop can handle it, if you can get it running on your end.” If Dad told me his laptop unfolded into a sports car, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

I beckoned to Marvelous with one hand and led her into Dad’s office. His computer booted in seconds, and it only took a couple of seconds more to find his projection chat system and turn it on. The window reported a connection, and Dad hung up on me as his head and shoulders appeared hovering in front of the monitor.

“What’s up, Marvelous?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. I had to admit, it was better than any webcam. He might as well have been in the room.

Marvelous answered solemnly, “I ran into The Inscrutable Machine.” Ow. My heart locked up, cold and tight, but all I could do was listen.

Dad tilted his head curiously. He sounded almost teasing as he asked, “Did it change your opinion of how to treat them?”

Marvelous shook her head. Her smile was back. Sure, she was serious, but I was the only person not enjoying this conversation. She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and carefully unfolded it. “Not much. They were better than I expected, but they acted like professionals and we should treat them that way. I wanted to ask if this is what I think it is.”

She held up her unfolded paper. The painting of Vera on it was impressive, almost photographic.

Long, silent seconds went by as Dad examined it. When he answered, it came as a grudging admission. “Yes. It’s a Conqueror orb. Where did you see it, and how big was the orb itself?”

Marvelous nodded her head down at the page. “This is life size, I’d guess four inches diameter. I saw it following Bad Penny around like a puppy dog.”

Dad’s smile had completely disappeared. My heart managed to knot itself tighter, but I forced myself to relax. He looked much more thoughtful than worried. He only sounded as solemn as if he were taking a puzzle apart. “That’s not right. The body is a command configuration. Command level orbs are basketball sized, or greater. What powers did it display?”