I sent everybody a red, and a message. Then I ran back to the lab, and started to put on the Rocket suit.
I’d spent a lot of time fixing and modifying the Rocket suit that summer, but I hadn’t spent much time figuring out how to get it on faster. You know how the armor comes from all directions and attaches itself in the Iron Man movies? I needed that.
The portable briefcase version wouldn’t have hurt either. Continue reading Under 30: Part 14
Sunday night, Marcus and I placed roachbots around the city, and sat back to wait for something exciting to happen.
It didn’t. We went home around two in the morning, having discovered that people really did sneak in after the beach officially closed to drink. They also got discovered by rangers, and then ticketed and fined by the police.
It seemed distinctly less fun than the stories I’d heard.
Continue reading Under 30: Part 13
The sole good point about Sean calling to gloat was that I could at least be sure that he didn’t expect me to call back. Lucas, I felt fairly sure, did.
Clicking on the icon that distorted my voice to match how the Rocket sounded in person, I set the voice mail program to dial. I felt sure Lucas would catch that this was an official call—which was good considering he’d probably inherited his grandfather’s resistance to mental tampering.
Daniel had put in our version of the Block on each Justice Fist member back when we all fought Prime and the Cabal’s private army. He’d told me to assume Lucas didn’t have one.
I wore the full Rocket armor. Pulling the stealth suit out of my closet at home would have been faster, but according to Grandpa and the reports, Dixie Superman had been tough. Flying into a fight with Dixie Supergirl in less than full gear sounded stupid.
And how much did I want to bet that more of her group was in the crowd?
After running to HQ, plus five minutes worth of pulling the armor on, and a twenty second flight to Grand Lake State Park (with Marcus gliding behind me, shifted into the form of a pair of wings), we were too late.
Not completely too late because she wasn’t gone, but it would have been better if we’d all arrived and attacked simultaneously.
Continue reading Under 30: Part 11
After Vaughn and Jaclyn sat down, we started to make a plan.
“At least we know how it’s been done before,” Jaclyn said. “Once we stop his followers and reveal who he’s possessing, he disappears. Hey, do you think we might be able to take the ring if we’re wearing gloves?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “it’s magic. Who knows what the rules are? When one of the Hangmen lassoed me with his noose, it didn’t paralyze me like it was supposed to, but with Evil Beatnik, it might go the other way. The original League surrounded the ring with concrete and bulletproof glass for a reason.” Continue reading Under 30: Part 10
Vaughn leaned back from the table and thought about it. “I can’t think of a single way I’ve been influenced.”
“Not noticing is the whole point of influencing somebody,” Rachel began.
I interrupted her.
“My theory goes like this. Evil Beatnik can influence people that might be vulnerable to possession. We’re all under thirty, but those of us who are anti-authority, and who are, or at least try to be cool, are most vulnerable. Continue reading Under 30: Part 9
In the face of mounting embarrassment, what was left of the League arranged to meet in HQ on Saturday evening. Rachel and I arrived before everyone else. She’d gone to an open mike night on Friday, so this was the first chance we’d had to talk in two days.
We sat down at the table in the main room, and waited.
“I completely forgot to tell you about the Ice Twins yesterday morning,” I said. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise. I needed the sleep. I stayed at Lucas’ house until four in the morning.”
“Oh yuck.” Sydney crinkled her nose. “I didn’t think that movie could have been worse, but that’s worse.”
Camille smiled a little as Sydney talked, but addressed me, “You made it sound like this was embarrassing for you. Was it? Come on, you can tell us.”
“OK. My grandpa told me what it did when I was twelve, and I tried it on my family’s cat. I mean, who was going to notice? We’d already had him neutered. Except there were a few things I didn’t know. One thing was that the genes that make a cat’s fur a particular color show themselves differently in each gender, so his fur started to change color. He’s normally orange, but female cats aren’t generally orange—”
Haley asked, “What color did he turn into?” She used the same, slightly disbelieving voice she used when asking things like how many days in a row I’d worn a pair of jeans.
We talked more after that, but not much worth repeating.
What can you say that tops, “I’m an alien on the run from my people who, by the way, commit genocide as a hobby, and might stop by any day now?”
Near the end of lunch, I got a text message from Daniel. It said, “Dad says come by any time.” Continue reading Turning Eighteen: Part 4
I thought about that. “Uh… Is there anything you’re likely to do that would put the human race in danger?”
Lee took another piece of pizza. “Anything that I’m likely to do? No. I’ve been keeping my head down for a long time now, but sometimes I’ve been known to take a risk. Now I take less.”
“I’m assuming that you’re hiding from your people, whatever they are… What happens if they catch you?” Continue reading Turning Eighteen: Part 3