Not Your Sidekick (11 page)

“I can't tell you everything!” Bells snaps. “You know what, I came here to relax and hang out, not get interrogated.”

Jess' mouth falls open; she's never heard Bells raise his voice, ever.

Bells turns to Jess. “Are you just gonna stand there and let her accuse me of this?”

“Emma's feelings were just hurt because you kept blowing her off,” Jess says. “Us, I mean.”

“Yeah, I don't see her getting all high and mighty with you and your big new job, busy every day after school now!” Bells says. “You know what, I don't need this.”

He whirls around, leaves, and slams the door behind him. He hadn't even stepped past the entryway.

Emma and Jess stare at the closed door, and then Mrs. Robledo calls out, “Was that Bells? I made horchata; he likes it better than hot cocoa!”

Emma sniffs, grabs Jess by the elbow and leads her back into her bedroom. “We don't have to marathon this anymore; Bells is the only one who likes this dumb show anyway.”

Jess sinks onto Emma's bed, deflated.

“I don't think those extensions looked that great,” Emma says. “Who gets extensions like, for two inches of hair?”

“Bells is very serious about his hair.” It wouldn't seem like a stretch for him to ask for a specific thing, like only two inches or so, but it's not as if Jess is an expert on hair extensions.

“Yeah, but it's not possible to just get your hair just a
bit
longer. It's usually at least six inches. My cousin, for her quinceañera, had the whole nine yards: hair, makeup, everything. Isn't just a little bit longer
weird
?”

“I guess,” Jess says.

Emma changes the channel; the characters from
The Gentleman Detective
dissolve and reform into Lilliputian and Starscream. Wilton Lysander stands in front of the camera, gesturing frantically. “I'm here in Orange Port where Lilliputian and Starscream are taking on Coldfront.”

Lysander nearly gets shot with an ice blast, but ducks just in time. The narration is interesting, despite the somewhat routine fight. Lilliputian and Starscream apprehend the villain easily, and soon Emma is rewinding the clip to play it again.

Something occurs to Jess during the rewatch. “I wonder how the cameraperson knew they were there,” she says.

“They probably just showed up.”

“But look at all the angles. Like how we can see Starscream's face perfectly here, and then Lilliputian here when he gets small, and then here when they fight again on this ledge. This fight only takes about five minutes total, and there's no way there was a photographer at each of these spots with a holocam. It's put together like a movie.”

Emma blinks. “I guess? But look how you can see Starscream's face here. Aren't his eyes dreamy? And that jawline. And the stubble.”

“Yes, he's hot, but I'm saying that … actual news footage wouldn't look like this. It would be super-zoomed in, unless they were fighting where people were already set up for the angles.”

“Maybe the reporters are just really good at their job,” Emma says. She props her face in her elbows, eyebrows furrowed. “I'm not in the mood to figure out what's going on here. I just want to veg out and watch Starscream's butt in his tights.”

“All right.” Jess says. “Hey, come here.” She pulls Emma into a hug and Emma sniffs, as if she's been holding back tears. Jess rubs her back; Bells is better at this than she is, but Bells is the reason Emma's upset.

They settle back and watch the fight again. Starscream and Lilliputian work together effortlessly, and Coldfront goes down, shuddering when the two heroes slap the tantalum cuffs on him and lead him away.

With a neat, packaged finish, it's not unlike any of the other battles Jess has seen on television, but now she remembers how other battles were similar, from the confrontation to the one-two punch and right down to the final arrest. It varies depending on the hero and the powers, but the pattern is totally familiar.

Emma seems as though she's doing better after a few video compilations of Starscream's greatest battles. Jess looks at the pile of snacks and vintage board games Emma had pulled out in preparation for the night. There's even a brand-new sketchpad and a set of expensive markers Bells would never have bought for himself. With a sad smile, Jess touches the gifts and hopes that things work out soon.

Emma suggests that Jess sleep over, but Jess doesn't think it's a good idea. Mrs. Robledo likes sleepover guests to have a big breakfast with the family, but Jess wants to avoid the awkward questions about why Bells isn't there.

After Emma drops her off at home, she looks for footage of previously aired battles, starting with the major heroes in New Bright City.

Jess compares. Same too obvious camera angles. Same finish with the tantalum cuffs. No one ever gets injured, no one is actually in danger, and nothing is really at stake. Jess hadn't realized that what she's been seeing play out in her own small city—the Mischiefs causing a minor disturbance, her parents chasing them away or recovering the item they stole—was happening all over the country. Jess thought the harmless pranks were just because they were C-class heroes and villains, but it's the same everywhere, though at grander scales.

There's a cheeping outside Jess' door, and Jess opens it to find Chả blinking up at her. “Hey dude.” Jess says. “Come on in.”

The MonRobot rolls inside, knocks into the foot of Jess' bed and continues vacuuming haphazardly. It's only halfway through with the room before it runs out of battery and cheeps sadly until Jess picks it up and carries it to its charging station. “Poor baby, I just charged you yesterday. Hey, I wonder if I get some sort of employee discount and can get you an upgrade?”

Chả cheeps.

* * *

Saturday afternoon, Jess takes the
bus downtown. She straightens her best pair of jeans. M said to wear whatever she wants, but she can't help but worry that jeans are unprofessional. Still, they are a lot more comfortable than her dress slacks from freshman year.

The Monroe building is fairly empty, and the robot at the front desk bobs at her in greeting and says, “Hello, Jessica,” in an even tone.

Jess swipes her own keycard to access the special floor on the elevator, and it whirs to life, heading downstairs.

Abby is already at the reception desk, typing away at something at the computer. “Hey,” she says with a disarming smile. It's blinding, that's what it is, and Jess doesn't assume that it's meant for her; Abby's just nice to everyone.

Say hello
.
Say something. Anything. How's the weather? You look great. Your skirt is amazing. Why do you smell so good?

Finally Jess just nods, and congratulates herself for not saying anything awkward.

“M will join you in your office in a bit,” Abby says. She stands up and brushes off imaginary dust.

“Are you—are you going to be doing more robotics work today?” Jess asks.

“Yeah. And M liked your idea about the casual attire—as long as you're comfortable, you know.”

“You're still wearing a dress.”

Abby lifts an eyebrow, and a smile tickles the corners of her lips. “I'm wearing a dress because I like it. I'll see you later.”

Jess mutters to herself and walks right into the wall. She winces and rubs her shoulder. Ugh, at least she was out of sight. She can't believe she said that. It sounded awful, as if she was judging Abby for her fashion choices. She cringes.
You're still wearing a dress?
There's nothing wrong with dresses, in fact Abby looks great wearing them.

Abby looks great in her volleyball uniform. Abby looks great in her workout clothes. Jess probably has no chance of interacting with her like a normal person because she always is gorgeous, no matter what she wears.

Jess slumps face first onto the desk until she gets motivated to pick herself up and read today's to-do list.

The first item is to go up to the fourteenth floor and pick up parts for M. Jess pulls the instructions onto a DED chip and loads it into her own, and then adds the three more orders of magnesium and aluminum alloys M mentioned she needed yesterday. The elevator is empty all the way up to the first floor, and then dings for the lobby. The doors open, but no one enters.

“Close doors,” Jess says.

“Wait, wait, hold the elevator!”

Jess sticks her arm out so the doors don't shut, and a breathless teenage boy dashes in.

He's wearing what seems to be a flashy blue designer suit; it looks exactly like the one Wilton Lysander wears on the news. The boy grins at Jess and runs his hands through his blond hair; there's a matching blue streak running down the left side. “Hi! Thanks so much,” he says.

He looks familiar somehow, but Jess doesn't think she's seen him at AHHS.

“No problem,” Jess says. “Are you an intern too? I haven't met any of the ones in the other departments.”

“Yes! I'm an intern,” he says. “I'm Barry.” Oddly formal, he holds out his hand for Jess to shake.

“Jess.” She shakes his hand. It's going to be one of those things, she can tell, like figuring out who is that one extra in that one movie. “Sorry, you just look really familiar. Do you go to AHHS?”

“Ah, no! I live in Devonport. I must have one of those faces, you know.”

“Do you know what floor you're going to?” Jess asks. They've already passed the fifth through eighth floors, where most of the research and development takes place. Jess was pretty sure all the other internships were for that area, but she could be wrong.

“Oh, ah, fourteen.”

They stand in silence for a bit until the boy blurts out, “So, how are you liking the job, Jess?”

“It's great. I mean, I don't have any other internships to compare it to, but I like the people I work with, and the projects are interesting.”

Barry keeps smiling and nodding as she talks. Jess goes on a bit about the tedium of filing, and finds his active interest in her pleasant. She's not one to make friends quickly. It reminds her of the first time Bells sat down with her at lunch and just started talking to her.

“How's things in research and development? I would have applied there, but I don't really know much about robotics.”

Barry shrugs. “Ah, it's great. I love it. Lots of explosions. Just kidding!” He leans in and lowers his voice, even though they're the only two in the elevator. “Hey, have you seen anything weird around here lately?”

“Weird? Like what?” Jess folds her arms.

“Anything. You know… I heard that Master Mischief was seen a few times going in and out of this building. Maybe he's hiding out here.” Barry lifts his eyebrows.

“I have no idea,” Jess says, more fiercely than she intends. The Mischief's lab is supposed to be a secret. “That sounds like something the conspiracy theorists on the Net would come up with.”

Barry leans back against the elevator wall. He opens his mouth, but the elevator door opens and a few more employees join them. Two women are complaining to each other about project deadlines, but the conversation ends when they get in the elevator and they glare at the display. One man is flicking furiously at the messages on his DED. He's wearing jeans and a polo shirt. All the employees look pretty casual, much to Jess' relief. It must be a Saturday thing, and now Barry looks overdressed.

The other intern keeps eyeing her as if he wants to talk more about his Mischief theories. The women get off on the tenth floor, and, on the eleventh, the man still on his DED walks right into a MonRobot hovering at the elevator doors. It spins about in confusion even as it's scanning him, and the man just walks right past. “Bill Neighton, Thermodynamics Specialist,” the MonRobot mutters.

“Hey, watch it,” Jess calls after the rude man, reaching out to steady the MonRobot.

“Thank you,” it says in a steady monotone. It scans Jess' face briefly and makes an affirmative noise. “Jessica Tran, Experimental Division Intern.” The MonRobot turns to Barry, scans him quickly, and then makes a series of panicked beeps. “No employee or registered guest facial match. Intruder! Intruder!”

Lights flash from the MonRobot, and Jess flattens herself against the wall in a panic.

Barry gives her a small salute. “Later, Jess. Have a great day at work!”

He ducks out of reach of the MonRobot's emerging arms and shrugs out of his suit jacket. Barry tosses the jacket over the robot. The MonRobot spins about in confusion, chirping “Apprehend the intruder!” over and over.

People join the chase, and the MonRobot finally shakes off the jacket and flies after Barry. Jess sees the MonRobot chase him down the hallway and around the corner while startled employees leap aside.

“Hey, where'd he go?” a woman calls out.

The elevator door starts to close, and the eleventh floor hallway is empty despite the noisy chaos around the corner. On the floor, Barry's jacket shimmers and… disappears.

Jess rides to the fourteenth floor. Barry hadn't seemed dangerous, just another kid.
What was he doing here?
He was asking questions about Master Mischief.

Maybe Barry was looking for Master Mischief?

And what was up with that jacket? Maybe it was some advanced tech from a rival company. Barry was probably a spy, Jess decides.

Too bad. He seemed nice.

The fourteenth floor is filled
with row after row of shelved tech, working and not. A MonRobot takes the datachip from Jess' DED and hums to itself as it whirrs about the shelves and fills a box.

Jess thanks the robot and carries the box back down to the lab. No one joins her in the elevator this time; the ride is short and silent. She leaves the materials outside M's office; strange noises are coming from behind the closed door, which is marked
NO ENTRY WITHOUT PERMISSION.