A Mutant Named Mizzie

“And
that
is why they call me Captain Justice!” I declared, staring down at the mutant I was holding in a headlock.
Chirp chirp!
My utility belt vibrated with an incoming call. Tightening my chokehold with one arm, I reached for my phone with the other. The mutant growled, then gurgled. I glanced up in time to see more mutants rushing my way. A roaring mass of gray skin, bloodshot eyes, rows of sharp teeth. I would have to make this quick.

“Captain Justice speaking,” I said into the phone.

“Hiya, Cap!” The voice belonged to Zimmerman, my new business manager. “Is this an okay time to chat?”

I took another glance at the horde of bloodthirsty mutants: gnashing shark teeth, claws ripping through the air.

“Of course,” I said.

Ordinarily, I would’ve let the call go straight to voice mail, but I’d been waiting all day to hear from Zimmerman. A popular chain of barbecue restaurants was expanding into the microwaveable dinner market, and the owners were considering hiring
me
to be the official spokesperson. I could already imagine my face on all the colorful boxes, looking out from the frozen food aisle. Captain’s Down-Home Brisket and Beans … Sloppy Joe with Superhero Sauce. The possibilities were endless.

“Good news, Cap!” Zimmerman said. “They agreed to the deal!”

“That’s terrific!” I elbowed the mutant in the side of its gnarled head. “I’ll swing by to sign the contracts later today.”

“And you should know, I scheduled you for a photo shoot next week. We just need to find a cowboy hat that matches your cape.”

I shifted sideways to avoid getting clawed by the mutant in my grasp.
“GRAAAAARG!”
it screamed.

“What’s that, Cap?” asked Zimmerman. “I didn’t quite catch that last part.”

“That wasn’t me,” I began. “It was the m—”

“ARRRPH!”
the creature interrupted.
“MUUUURRGG!”

“If you don’t want to wear a hat, all you have to do is say so,” Zimmerman complained. “Groaning at me won’t accomplish anything.”

I sighed. The first of the mutant horde would reach me any second.

“I shall call you back,” I said.

Clipping the phone back onto my belt, I swung the mutant in my grasp like an ugly gray baseball bat, knocking aside several of the attacking monsters before they could dog-pile me. But there were more where that came from: A tornado of claws and teeth. Murderous howls. And the breath … I didn’t know what these things had had for breakfast, but whatever it was, I wished I’d packed some extra breath mints in my utility belt.

I made quick work of the remaining mutants. But they were just the preview. The main event was standing close by. Abominator. His face was shrouded in a black mask. A matching uniform and cape made him look like a shadow come to life.

“Engage Net of Truth!” I called.

A glowing blue hologram sprang from my armored wristband and flew through the air toward Abominator. At the same time, he reached beneath his cape and pulled out a javelin with a glowing green tip: the Radiation Spear. It was Abominator’s trademark. A swing of the spear sliced the Net of Truth to nothingness.

I leaped three stories into the air, my shining blue cape billowing behind me. In addition to super strength, I also possess the power of flight, plus an arsenal of hologram weapons and the best technology money can buy. The total package. It’s easy to see why I—Captain Justice!—have long been considered the greatest superhero who has ever lived.

A quick glimpse at my surroundings revealed an audience observing the fight: Citizens watching anxiously from office windows and stopped cars. A mailman hunched behind a trash can. And more journalists than you could count. Reporters, TV vans, microphones. I paused in the air for a little midflight posing.

Cameras flashed as I flexed my muscles and smiled. People assume that my impressive
physique and dashing good looks come naturally to me, but the truth is, I work hard to look this good. Three hours a day in the gym and state-of-the-art tooth-whitening procedures. Not to mention the manicures, exfoliation sessions, stylists, wardrobe consultants … Oh, the demands of being a modern superhero!

The impromptu photo session came to a sudden end when a green-tipped spear whizzed past me.

“Curse you, Captain Justice!” Abominator hollered from below. “Next time, I won’t miss!”

“Ah, but you’re mistaken about that,” I replied, projecting my voice so that reporters would be able to hear me clearly. “For you see, there won’t
be
a next time. Prepare yourself for a life in confinement, you fiend!”

“Not a chance, supergoof!” Abominator yelled back. “
You’re
the one who’s headed for confinement. In a coffin. Because you’ll be DEAD!”

I was still trying to think of a snappy comeback when Abominator’s spear shot past me a second time. Only now it was heading back in the other direction.
Toward
the supervillain.

How could I have been so foolish! A superhero who’s been in the business as long as I have ought to know that Abominator’s Radiation Spear functions like a boomerang. It always travels back to the place where it originated: Abominator’s hand.

I’d been distracted, and had nearly paid for it with a radioactive spear in the back. I wouldn’t let it happen again.

Speeding toward the supervillain, I extended one arm. “Engage Heat Beam of Honesty!”

A holographic ray of blue light shot from my wristband. Abominator dove out of the way, and the beam hit the side of a delivery truck with the logo SAMWELL’S POTATO CHIPS printed on the side. The Heat Beam of Honesty carved a hole in the truck, unleashing a sea of potato chip bags on top of Abominator.

“Looks like it’s snack time for you!” I announced.

By the time Abominator’s head emerged from the mountain of bags, I was standing over
him.

“Just sit tight.” I pointed my armored wristband at him, ready to unleash any number of hologram weapons. “One move and we’ll have supervillain salsa to go along with all these chips.”

On the ground beside the pile of chips was an electronic device that had fallen loose when Abominator dove to avoid the Heat Beam of Honesty. Bending down to pick it up, I saw a single gray button in its center.

“I’ll hang on to this,” I said, slipping the gadget into a pouch of my utility belt.

After ensuring that the police had the supervillain locked away and granting interviews to a few reporters on the scene, I climbed into the back of the SUV parked nearby. In the front seat was a robot in a tuxedo and chauffer’s cap.

“Greetings, Stanley!” I said.

“Excellent work today, sir,” said my robot butler in his precise electronic voice. “Where would you like to go?”

“Take me to Zimmerman’s office,” I said as the car lurched into motion. “I’ve got some contracts I need to—WATCH OUT!”

The SUV screeched to a halt. Something was blocking our path. I leaned forward, staring out the front window. A mutant was sitting in the center of the street. But unlike the monstrous creatures I’d grappled with earlier, this mutant appeared to be … a baby girl. A tiny thing with gray skin and nothing in the way of clothing except a pink diaper.

Climbing out of the SUV, I approached the baby mutant cautiously. The thing looked harmless, but you never knew. It could be a trick. There didn’t seem to be anyone else around. For the time being, it was just the mutant and me.

Holding her as far from me as possible, like a bomb that could go off at any second, I cast a glance back in the direction of the battle scene. The other mutants were confined in a group, locked into submission with handcuffs and ankle restraints, watched over by the police. There was little doubt that the baby had been a part of the horde. Perhaps Abominator had brought her
along by accident. Perhaps her parents were in the group that was getting detained.

Whatever the reason for the baby’s presence, the best solution was to hand her over to the authorities. I took a step in that direction, but something stopped me in my tracks.

The mutant giggled.

She was gazing up at me with a grin on her face. Her big dark eyes shone in the morning sunlight. A tuft of black hair stood up on her head. She only had a single tooth in her mouth—although it looked sharp enough to cause some major damage.

Attached to her diaper was a tag with text printed on one side.

I sounded out the letters in my head.
MI-Z
. Almost like a name.
Mizzie
.

I shook away the thought. In my line of work, the names of mutants didn’t matter. All that mattered was stopping them before they could wreak havoc on innocent people.

Turning away from the mutant, I reminded myself that I still had a busy day in front of me. Zimmerman’s office to sign the contracts, then on to the gym, followed by lunch with my agent, a quick trip to the hairdresser, an afternoon meeting to look over the new season’s weapon designs … I didn’t need to check my calendar to know that
take care of baby mutant
wasn’t on my to-do list.

And yet I still couldn’t bring myself to turn the child over to the authorities. I watched as an officer yanked one of the creatures off the ground and tossed it into the back of an armored police van. What would they do to the baby if I handed her over now? Would they treat her the same way?

I hesitated for a moment longer. Then I returned to the SUV.

“Slight change of plans,” I said to Stanley.

The mutant giggled again as I lowered her into the backseat.

“This microwaveable barbecue deal has the potential to expand my market in the south,” I said to Zimmerman. Contracts were spread across the desk, ready to be signed. “Let us begin putting together tour dates to promote—”

“Uh … Cap?” Zimmerman interrupted. “Why is there a baby mutant in my office?”

He was staring nervously at the gray-skinned child, who was sitting in one of his swivel chairs, chewing on a paperweight with her one extremely sharp tooth.

“Oh, this is Mizzie,” I said. “I discovered her a little while ago.”

“So you thought you’d bring it to
my
office?” Zimmerman scooted away from Mizzie, his mouth curling with disgust.