Please Don't Tell My Parents I Blew Up the Moon (4 page)

BOOK: Please Don't Tell My Parents I Blew Up the Moon
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Claire did not sound so cheerful. “Penny, we’re late!”

Not that Claire could see, but I gave the phone a skeptical stare anyway. “What? It’s only eleven!”

“The store is in Studio City!”

Oops. That was on the other side of Griffith Park. There was no straight shot over the hills, either.

“Where are you at?” I asked, much faster than before.

“Our lair.”

“On my way!” I snapped my phone shut, ran back to my room, shoved my teleport bracelets on under my blouse, and grabbed Dad’s goofy but dangerously effective boxing glove gun. I had the bracelets, I had the Machine… there just wasn’t much to take, and there wouldn’t be until I got to a cloning laboratory.

It would have to do. I ran through the house, and as Dad leaned over his chair and started to speak, I held up the gun. It was sweet of him to make sure I started carrying protection since I started spending more time out of the house. He didn’t know I didn’t need it.

I was in the garage reaching for my bike when it occurred to me. I’d left the German Grenade in my room. Yes, it was stupid and ridiculous, but I couldn’t use a weapon Dad gave me in my supervillainy, and the Grenade was the closest to an offensive weapon I had. I ran back to the door.

As I reached for the handle, Dad said something I couldn’t hear. Mom, on the other hand, had a clear, perfect, and penetrating voice even when she spoke calmly. “Of course she is, Brian. She and Ray are dating.”

Uh.

Dad must have had the same reaction. Mom seemed amused. “You didn’t know? Why did you think Ray suddenly started dressing better?”

I caught the words “…outlook on grooming…” in Dad’s reply.

Mom was still amused. “Right. It can be a life changing moment for a socially awkward boy. Penny was concerned Claire would take him away at the beginning, but in some capacity, Penny and Ray have been dating for a month.”

I couldn’t make anything about what Dad next. His voice had gotten
real
quiet. Was he angry?

Mom did sound more serious, but still pretty lighthearted. “Not yet. Watch their body language when they’re together. They stand close together, but don’t touch. They get tense and nervous, and don’t even hold hands. Penny’s taking things slow, and as long as she does, I think we should trust her and wait for her to tell us.”

I felt cold. Stiff. Listening to my mother dissect my behavior was chilling. The rest of me might feel cold, but my cheeks burned. My parents knew about me and Ray already? I barely knew about me and Ray!

I was late. I needed to get moving, but it took some effort. Before I managed a single step, Dad’s chair squeaked. When Mom spoke next, it was a lot softer. “Yes. I’m―I’m still worried about them and the Inscrutable Machine, Brian.”

Dad’s voice got firm. I caught the word “personal.” Yes, Mom, the last thing I wanted was the Audit getting personal!

Her voice picked up. She sounded closer, too. Was I going to have to hide? We had curtains on the kitchen door window, so she probably couldn’t see me. Probably. No, she couldn’t see me, because she wouldn’t keep talking in such a haunted, vulnerable tone. “It’s not that. I know the Inscrutable Machine have declared they’re going to act like professionals, but between them and Penny, this is personal. Not personal in the way the community means, but really personal.”

I had no idea where this was going anymore. I stood there, listening to the deeper squeak of Dad settling into a kitchen chair. Now I could hear him. Well, just barely. “Alright. Lay it out for me, Beebee.”

He might have said Mom’s name, but she was speaking as the Audit, and we both knew it. She swore no superpower was involved, but even fifteen years retired, my mother’s ability to calculate and predict felt supernatural every time she let it show.

Her voice turned even, emotionless, and professional. “The similarities between the Inscrutable Machine and our kids are stark. Their first appearance was in Penny’s school, and the second close by. There’s enough travel time for them to be from another middle school, but the odds are overwhelming that they’re Penny’s schoolmates, and Reviled’s costume similarity to Ray and E-Claire’s choice of name and theme are deliberate.”

Criminy. Was I about to be unmasked? No. No, Mom would have said so. I had to let her talk, and find out where this was going.

She obliged. “We have no link between Ray and Reviled other than general build and outfit. E-Claire has projective telepath-”

“We don’t know what E-Claire’s powers are,” Dad cut her off.

Mom wasn’t ruffled at all. “Correct. We only know their effect, which is as close to Claire’s as her appearance. We have clear video recordings of E-Claire. She has a rounder face than Claire Lutra, and darker hair, but they look similar enough-”

“To look similar, yes,” Dad finished for her.

I knew that when she turned on her power, Claire did subtly change shape, but her power recolored her hair? Really? I… it was so hard to remember anything but the sense of ‘Awww!’ when Claire had her power turned up. Framing those sparkly blue eyes were… wavy, golden yellow locks, yes. The kind you’d find on an expensive doll. Not Claire’s normal pale, almost white ‘How do you get that color without bleach?’ shade.

Immune to her own power, Claire knew how different she looked. No wonder she avoided masks and showed off for cameras. She didn’t have to worry about exposure.

Mom kept talking right over my thoughts. “Similar enough to draw comments. ‘You look like Claire Lutra, but not as pretty’ stings for a thirteen year old girl, Brian. Between superhero demographics and our best guess of the number of superpowered parents, there should be eleven natural blondes with superpowers in Penny’s school. The odds of at least one having mind control related powers is over forty percent. Thirty two percent of supervillains were motivated by jealousy at the start of their career. Another forty percent had jealousy as a major secondary motivation. Claire’s mother is famous. Claire’s version of her mother’s power got a lot of attention. E-Claire’s name and bear costume were chosen to mock Claire Lutra. All the other possibilities are statistically remote.”

Dad let out an audible sigh. He sounded downright defeated. “Imperfect clone, Jekyll/Hyde syndrome, power leech…”

“Statistically insignificant. Much less than one percent,” Mom repeated, just a touch of victory in her emphasis. “A Jekyll/Hyde scenario would be realistic, if only around a ten percent probability, but Misty is a professional, and a better parent than we are. She would not have missed that.”

Dad sounded surprised. “Are Jekyll/Hydes that common?”

“My data is ten years old, but for mental powers? Yes.”

Claire’s mom hadn’t missed anything. I felt weird, itchy and uncomfortable listening to my mother follow a chain of numbers down the wrong track. That she hadn’t figured me out was a detail. I knew that already. Really, Mom, where was this going?

I had two minions and a crazed pretend demoness waiting for me, so this had better be good.

Dad thought it would be. I heard dread in his voice as he pointed out, “You’ve left Penny for last.”

Mom returned a question. “How good is Penny’s power, Brian?”

Even the grim topic couldn’t erase Dad’s pride. “Well, she may not have inherited my power, but her breakout invention was a Tier Three. If there was a Tier Four, her Machine would be it. It doesn’t just work on unknown principles; it shouldn’t work at all. I’ve seen her demonstrate a Tier Two upgrade, and her lunchbox is Tier One, unrelated to her breakout invention but retaining the clockwork theme. I know she’s made at least a Tier One electrical invention unconnected to theme or breakout invention, but she considered it a failure and wouldn’t show us. She mentioned an invention in her programming class. It sounded Tier Two, an AI more advanced than regular science knows how to make yet.”

Mom was more businesslike. In fact, she sounded more solemn than ever. “All within the first month of emergence. That places her within the top one percent of mad science powers. There’s no way to know how much farther her power will grow, because she’s off the charts. You wanted a daughter to inherit your legacy, Brian. You got it. She’ll be famous if this is as good as she gets. Realistically, she could grow up to be the most powerful mad scientist of her generation, a Tesla or da Vinci or Krebs level talent.”

I tried not to feel really, really smug. Guess what, Mom and Dad? When I get this supervillain thing worked out, you’ll see what I can really do!

Dad went, “Huh,” with the tone of a father also trying not to feel really, really smug.

Mom was still going somewhere. “Now, how good is Bad Penny’s power?”

Dad started to list. He doesn’t actually do the counting on his fingers thing, but each item had that perfect pause as if he was. “The rag dolls were Tier Three. The sugar chemical tank was Tier Two in a similar theme, but a different technology. Marvelous described a set of Tier Two toys in the same theme but a third type of technology. The pennies she probably didn’t make herself. The air cannon was Tier Two, in a theme matched by her costume, whose tech level I can’t say. No one knows how she teleports, but if it’s not an inherent power, it has to be at least Tier Three in a tech type and theme I don’t…” Dad drifted into silence.

It did sound impressive when you put it that way, Dad.

“How many mad scientists are you aware of with that diverse and high level a talent?”

“Organism One has a broad tech level base and has achieved multiple Tier Three inventions. Thematically, he can branch out a little. Edison had a very broad thematic base, although he never achieved Tier Three. If he had, his inventions wouldn’t have been useful. By definition, Tier Three can’t be copied, because it’s based on unknown properties of physics. There are rumors Tesla disappeared because he was hiding multiple Tier Three inventions.” Dad was hedging.

Mom knew it. “So, none.”

“Assuming she made all those inventions herself, which we know she didn’t.”

Wait, wait. Holy crumbs. Did Dad just say I was a better mad scientist than Tesla?!

“More than you know, in fact. Do you remember Wonderland?” Yes, yes, Mom. Could we get back to me being a better mad scientist than Tesla?

Dad answered slowly, “No…?”

“Not surprising. She responded well to medication, and her career was very brief. Not a bad mad scientist, but the schizophrenic cognitive damage took care of that. She primarily used a wand and sugar chemical tank weapon. She was said to have other toy-based inventions, but no one kept track after her capture.”

I went from grinning like a manic idiot to frowning like a clueless idiot so fast my face hurt. This conversation had just detoured onto Weird Street.

“We do already know she’s a weapon thief.” Dad’s voice got so thoughtful that I could picture him, leaning way back in his kitchen chair and scratching his chin, like he always did.

Mom’s tone didn’t change. She was still leading him somewhere. “Eighty percent of mad scientists use only their own inventions, but twenty percent are realistic odds. The odds Bad Penny made even most of her own inventions-”

“-are not realistic,” Dad finished for her. “Okay, Beebee. You’ve made your point. What’s the punchline?”

“The odds overwhelmingly favor Bad Penny being a frustrated minor mad scientist jealous of Penny’s incredible breakout. E-Claire is similarly jealous of Claire. With Reviled they became a trio to express their jealousy by busting up a science fair, and things snowballed when Bad Penny started to crave more toys.”

Wow. Mom was remarkably close, assuming that my superpower was too awesome to be believably likely. I’d been launched into this life of crime by Ray destroying the science fair over a fit of jealousy, so she’d even gotten that right.

Ha! Mom always said you couldn’t beat the numbers. I had!

My phone roared.

Oh, criminy.

Mom couldn’t catch me here. I teleported into the garage, scrambled up on my bike, pedaled two steps, and teleported to the road. My muscles went stiff and achy and I had to take a deep breath, but I kept pedaling, and teleported to the next block.

The bike wobbled as blue spots flashed before my eyes, but they faded, and despite the pain I kept pedaling. I was in good shape, now. My wind would come back in a minute. I was way, way late, and I had to get to my secret lab as fast as superhumanly possible.

To brag, obviously.

Not that I had time. I was wheezy from taking as many teleports as I dared when I pulled open the grungy old doors around the far corner of Northeast West Hollywood Middle and dragged my bike into the concealed elevator. It didn’t have proper railings, so as soon as it rattled down far enough for me to see into the lower level, I slid out and jumped to the ground.

Claire gave me the fists-on-hips look. “It’s eleven thirty already, Penny!”

“I know. I’m getting changed as fast as I can!” I grabbed my helmet and jumpsuit, and ran out of the big domed central chamber into the little side room where I kept the cursed jade statue.

Ray, of course, suddenly unglued himself from the wall. I yelled back, “Claire!” She understood what I meant, and stood in Ray’s way. His grin never faltered. He’d just been teasing. Probably. What had I started with that one kiss?

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