Chapter 3, 3: Pirates Don’t Need
Rescuing!
Bruce
was moving alongside Charlotte, gliding along to match her speed on his
retractile rocket skates. “Looks like Professor Paradigm and the Yarr-Birds.”
“You
figure?” Charlotte asked. Because that was what she thought, and she felt
pleased to be keeping up with The World’s Fiftieth Best Detective, or wherever
Bruce ranked currently. There were a lot of masked detectives out there these
days.
“A
guess.”
“Look
Out!” Charlotte felt herself being pushed to the ground. She reacted, sliding
down into Mantis stance, Pearl Harmony out, but not cutting. A violet ray
sliced across the air just above her. Charlotte was glad to see that Bruce had
rolled out of the path of the blast, which was emanating from a medium-sized guy
in a blue jumpsuit with gold trim, who was throwing eyebeams around with pretty
impressive accuracy.
“At
least he’s playing fair,” Charlotte muttered.
“What?”
Bruce asked.
“Look!
He’s shooting at the Paradigm Pirates, too.” It was true. The blurred figures
that had piled out of the burning mini-van were legging it towards the cover of
a line of trees along the edge of the county road, except for one flying guy,
who was just starting to do the villain-gives-a-lecture pose in mid-air above
the road when the violet ray caught him square in the chest. It was a powerful blast, Charlotte figured, and
that poor oak tree in the middle of the field over there probably agreed.
“I’ll
get him!” Dora shouted, swooping overhead in a glittery trail of spun gold.
“No—“
Rose yelled, but too late, as the violet ray hit Dora smack in her golden
energy shield.
Dora
slammed into the pavement.
“That’s
Oculon,” Rose finished. “He can knock Doctor
Destroyer down at full power!” As she finished speaking, Rose blurred up
again, and Dora seemed to stir and move herself out on the asphalt. Until, that
is, a black streak extruded itself from the treeline on the other side of the
road, and, well, Charlotte would have said something about it creeping or
oozing, except that that was foreshortening with distance, and it was moving
bloody fast, intercepting Rose’s
black-and-white streak and sending her and Dora flying through the air.
“Oof,”
Bruce said, behind Charlotte, as he caught Dora. Charlotte hardly noticed that,
because she was busy trying to put a legsweep on a superspeedster. This works
with Rose, Charlotte thought. And, amazingly, it worked with this guy, too. The
black streak rammed her leg with enough power that she would have confused it
with her principal or her uncle, and the streak abruptly turned into another
medium-sized guy with a mustache and shiny machinegun thingies on his wrists.
Who was in mid air. Going very fast. Towards her. Charlotte let her chi flow, ducking at superspeed. This is
getting to be a habit, Charlotte thought, as she measured out some cover in the
roadside ditch.
Mr.
Sleazy Speedster, meanwhile, slammed into a telephone pole and fell to the
ground. “Serves you right for your grooming alone,” Charlotte said.
“I
was going to say ‘manscaping,’” Bruce answered, as he dropped beside her.
“That’s
because you’re a goof,” Charlotte supplied in the way of an explanation. “Rose,
these are Dragon Branch dudes, right?”
“Viper’s
finest,” Rose agreed.
“Seriously?”
Bruce asked. “Oculon and Sidewinder?”
“Okay,
Viper’s B-Team. At least we haven’t seen Draconis yet.” Rose swept her hand at
the road, where Viper agents in their green-and-gold masked bodysuits were
spreading across the road, headed towards the burning mini-van. For some
reason, they were giving the Tatammy team a wide berth.
“He’s
the one who does the Darth Vader choke all the time, right?” Charlotte asked.
“Especially
his team-mates. Like I said, B-Team, not C or A.”
“We’re
one letter grade above average!” Charlotte said.
“That’s
what a ‘B’ means where you come from?” Bruce asked. “We need to send Rose
there.”
“Hey.
I earned that straight A++ report card, so you shut up about your stupid ‘grade
inflation’!”
“And
why are they attacking the Paradigm Pirates?”
“I
don’t know,” said Eve.
“I
can think of scenarios,” Bruce said. “But some facts would be nice. You know, a
nice, crunchy topping of empiricism on creamy speculation?”
“Ready
for lunch already, are you, Richie Rich?” Charlotte asked.
“Hey,
I’m a growing boy. I need my nourishment. Gloria.”
“Yeah.
Like I’m your girlfriend.”
“I-I’m
sorry, Charlotte.”
Charlotte
glared at Bruce. He was such a drip, sometimes.
Charlotte’s
wrist phone vibrated. She held it to her face. It was her cousin Jennie. “Hey.”
“Hey,
Jennie.”
“Hear
you’ve got Dragon Branch horning in on Paradigm Pirate action.”
“Think they’re the Pirates.”
“No
proof?” Jenny sounded disappointed.
“What’s
with the Dragon Branch?”
“Er.
. . “ Charlotte’s cousin spoke unusually slowly, like she was embarrassed. “You
know that Mrs. Neilsen runs a Viper Nest somewhere up here in the Lehigh,
right?”
“I
thought she divorced Mr. Neilsen?”
“Focus,
Charlotte. Last Fall, someone ambushed Emily and Jamie Neilsen and their buds
just a few miles from here and damn near aced them. I think VIPER’s got a watch
on the neighbourhood, these days.”
Charlotte
knew about that. ‘Someone’ was her Dad, she knew, but what she didn’t know was
what she felt about that. She also knew that Jenny’s fiancée was Emily and
Jamie’s big bro. In-law trouble for Cousin Jenny! No wonder she sounded
embarrassed. “So. Overprotective mom says what?”
“Hi-larious,
Char-Char. You guys get out of there, and let Dragon Banch and the Pirates duke
it out.”
“They’re
not duking it out,” Charlotte said, watching the VIPER agents spread out around
the mini-van. One of the blurred possible-Paradigm-Pirates tried to make a
break for it, and was intercepted by a black streak that sent the blur flying
towards the oak tree that had just cushioned possible-Professor-Paradigm’s
trajectory.
“I
can’t believe I beat that guy,” Charlotte said.
“Well,
I did shut down his wrist blasters with my cyberpathy,” Rose pointed out.
“Thanks,
Rose.”
Jenny’s
voice rose an octave, calling their attention back to the phone. “I’m not
kidding. Stay out of their way. VIPER is not the good guys, no matter what they’re
doing this very moment.”
“But
what about the Pirates?” Bruce asked. “They’re going to get slaughtered!”
“Where
am I?” Dora asked, her voice thick.
“You
were knocked out again, Ms. Maid of Overconfidence,” Rose explained.
“Wiedersehen,
Schatzi.” A new voice broke over into
the conversation.
“Auntie
Rosa?” Dora asked.
“Ja bitter. I just had my teleporter
tuned up, and I have fixes on you guys. Now I just need a fix on the Pirates.”
“No
prob,” Bruce said. “I’ve got autonomous mini-drones with localisers on all six
of them. Hoped I’d get some usable pictures, but the drones will only handle so
many megapixels.”
“Can
you upload your location fixes?” Rose asked.
“Done,”
Bruce said.
And,
just like that, the four of them were standing on Rosa’s bridge. They were
aboard the Liberty Legion’s sentient starship, the one that used to belong to
Dora’s grandfather. It was as awesome as Charlotte ever imagined, with a line
of comfortable swivel chairs facing desk-mounted computer-monitory thingies,
and Earth turning in the wall-sized viewscreen, lazily, as though not wanting
to rotate through the first day of summer vacation too quickly. Or, because it
was awfully far away already.
It
was perfect. Except that they were standing in front of Doctor Beverly
Cambridge, Tatammy’s Department Of Superpower Affairs liaison and Tatammy High
guidance counsellor. Charlotte’s heart sank. First day of vacation, and they
were saddled with this wet blanket?
“Hello,
children. I was just taking Rosa out for a spin, and who do I find, in over
their heads and in unauthorised possession of Tatammy combat fatigues to boot?
Dora, if you’re going to wear the fatigues, no accessorising with jewelry. It
can be a handhold for enemies in a fight. Char-Char, that scabbard is
distinctly unregulationary. And Rose, those boots.”
“We
were not in over our heads, and we had every right to be—“ Dora nudged her,
hard. Okay, let little Ms. Trouble take the lead then, Charlotte thought. I can’t
trust myself to talk right now, anyway. She was just so angry.
“Ahem,
Gnadige Damen und Herr, if I could
just have your attention for a moment, please?”
“Yes,
Rosa, what is it?” Dr. Cambridge asked.
“I
have your erstwhile playmates in a detention cell that I have rigged in ‘D’
Hold.”
“D
Hold?” Dr. Cambridge asked.
“It
seemed appropriate. In any case, the prisoners are trying to communicate.” The viewscreen
changed, resolving into a blank, metal room filled with six blurs. The foremost
one gestured, and a long sequence of numbers and symbols appeared, glowing in
the air.
“What?”
Charlotte asked.
“It’s
an orbital trajectory,” Rose explained.
“Yeah!
Of course. There’s the azimuth, and there’s the declineations, and that’s the
velocity function” Bruce said, excited. “Weird.”
“I
take it back about Rose being a keener,” Dora said. “You’re both keeners.” Charlotte felt left out
for a second.
“It’s
an antigrav drive,” Rosa explained. “Rather higher tech than anyone on Earth is
capable of. At least on that scale.
And. . . There it is. Taking off from . .
.Oh, goodness, someone has bad taste in isolated locations, just outside of Kenora,
Ontario, Canada. Nice cloaking function it’s got. No match for my sensors, but
nice.”
“So
why should we care?” Charlotte asked, addressing the screen. The numbers in the
air blurred, turning into a single word: “Phocion.”
“What?”
Charlotte asked, politely.
“Uhm,
downloading,” Rose said, absently. “Uhm. Okay. Phocion was an ancient Athenian
general, blah blah hero of moral virtue and stuff like that. Plutarch compared
him to Cato the Younger.”
“Oh,
Plutarch. That explains everything!”
Charlotte said, brightly.
“Point.
There’s a couple of Poussin paintings about Phocion.”
“You
mean that French painter whose paintings are all clues about what happened to
my brother’s girlfriend’s Dad for some lame reason?”
“That’d
be the guy.”
“So
what’s the clue today?”
“They’re
all about the exile of Phocion.”
“So
that spaceship is going where Dr. Suzuki is?”
“That
would be the huge leap-of-logic of it all,” Rose answered.
“So
we can follow it and find out and save Kumi’s Dad?”
“Yes,”
Rosa said. “We can. If we follow it closely enough, we can model its hyperspace
transition and come out right on its trail.”
“No.”
Dr. Cambridge said. “Not on your life. You kids should be in summer school
right now. Tatammy’s test scores last year were a tenth of a percent below National
Merit Scholar rank. You know how few public schools are on that rank?”
Which
would earn all the teachers a bonus, Charlotte knew. A big bonus. As if drawing double pay from DOSPA and the Philadelphia
School Board wasn’t enough for her.
“But
if we don’t follow now, we won’t be able to get the coordinates of wherever
they’re going,” Rosa said.
“No!”
Doctor Cambridge said.
“It’s
a local jump. Less than a hundred light years. We’ll be there and back
overnight.”
“Ooh.
We need to do this!” Dora shouted.
“No,
we don’t. This is grownup business.”
“I’m
sorry, I’m programmed to obey Major von Wrede’s descendants, unless doing so
puts their lives in danger.”
“You
are?” Dr. Cambridge asked. “That’s remarkably stupid.”
“Nevertheless,”
Rosa said. “Unless it’s just a programming glitch. Which, I’m sure, I’ll get
sorted out when I get back to Goblin Deep. Tomorrow. After our trip.” Rosa’s
computer voice made a very human-like giggle. “You know us computers, always
glitching up.”
“It’s
true,” Bruce said. “Have you seen that Youtube video with the flying Skyrim
mammoths? That’s some weird pathing there.”
“Which
one?” Eve asked.
“The
funny one.”
“By
your standards, or mine?”
“Shut
up.”
“Okay,”
Dr. Cambridge said, sighing melodramatically. “We’ll follow the alien starship.
But, rest assured, Rosa, your programming is going to get a thorough going over when we get back.”
“Yeah,
like that’ll happen,” Dora whispered.
In
the mean time,” Doctor Cambridge said, loudly, as though to drown out the
whisper that she could not even here, “I think the children would be more
comfortable in the passenger lounge.”
As
Dora led them out, she muttered, “Yeah, don’t think that sending us to the ball
pit is going to stop Rosa from talking to me. Bitch.”
“So,
why are we helping your brother’s girlfriend, again?” Rose asked Charlotte.
Charlotte
shrugged. “Sure, she’s a stuck-up bitch, but we get to go to space.”
“And
we even have our own Jar-Jar!” Bruce said.
“Char-Char. Don’t start with me, McNeely,”
Charlotte hissed.
“I
can’t help it. Your nickname is funny.”
“No,
it’s not. It’s sort of a Chinese thing, and I like it.”
“You
don’t like it when Dr. Cambridge calls you that,” Bruce pointed out. “I could
see you tense up.”
“It’s
for family. She hasn’t earned it,”
Charlotte explained.
“Fair
enough,” Bruce said, shrugging. “I won’t call you Jar-Jar again.”
Charlotte
didn’t say anything more until they got to the lounge. Which, it turned out,
wasn’t an actual ball pit, but might as well have been. Their first, awesome
space trip, and they ended up sitting around in brightly coloured lounge
furniture watching Wall-E and then some
movies. By the time Battleship ended,
Charlotte was so fidgety that she could barely manage to sit in a chair. Rosa
put on a nice lunch and then a nice tea, but she was ready to chew her way out the hull of the
spaceship.
“I
don’t understand how we could screen Battleship.
It’s only been in theatres for a month-and-a-half,” Bruce said. “Are we
videopirates?”
“Yarr!”
Dora said. “No. The pirates are five decks down in a power-suppression field. Rosa
wouldn’t steal a movie. Even a Taylor Kitsch movie. Yowsers.”
“Oh,
come on, Dora,” Rose said. “Taylor
Kitsch? He’s a boy. You know who’s hot?”
“.
. .Colin Firth in Pride and Prejudice," Dora
finished for her friend. “God. Things happened so slowly in the old days.”
And
at that very moment, a slow, grinding shudder broke through the hull, and a
siren began to wail.
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