When teenage superhero Prodigious Girl accompanies her mentor to a mysterious tropical resort for superheroes and supervillains, her best friend Caleb gets transformed into the pigtailed heroine Hissyfit—and what starts as a chaotic island getaway turns into a romantic, reality-bending identity crisis. (A tale of Faraday City.)

Identity Crisis: Island Dreams

By Jenny North

People will sometimes ask me what teenage superheroes enjoy doing in our time off.

Everybody is different, but over time I've observed that when it comes to integrating the superhero lifestyle into our private lives, we tend to fall into one of two camps.

The first group largely adheres to the adage, "Choose a job you love, and you'll never have to work a day in your life." This, by the way, is a quote that I've widely heard attributed to either Confucius, Mark Twain, or Doctor Malevolence. In fairness, the good Doctor has been known to turn a pithy quote from time to time. And while some may balk at adopting a tentacled horror from another dimension who once tried to sink Australia as their personal life coach, it's fairly indisputable that he pursues his world-domineering schemes with a certain joie de vivre.

The other group is more like the old joke about the gynecologist who comes home after a hard day's work to find his wife greeting him in sexy lingerie. He tells her, "Honey, if I see one more..."

Me, I tended to fall more in the first group. I was a superhero geek well before I became one. And even then, I still kinda geeked out about them.

So, while I was no stranger to a variety of tabletop role-playing games (or TTRPGs, in our parlance), my personal game of choice would always be...

The sound of the bank alarm sliced through the cool night air of the darkened city street as the vigilante known as Streetwise squared his shoulders and prepared himself for a fight. This was, he knew, no ordinary bank robber, but ultimately it would make no difference. His reputation as one of the city's strongest and fiercest protectors was not for nothing, and the jails were filled with the miscreants he had brought to justice.

The bank's front door was kicked open by the villain as he made his exit, and he was revealed to be a kangaroo wearing a wizard's hat and cape. Loose bills were sticking out of his kangaroo pouch, and he was carrying a full sack of money that literally had a dollar sign emblazoned on it like a cartoon.

"Stop right there, Changearoo!" Streetwise declared in a commanding tone. "Return that money and surrender!"

Changearoo scratched behind one of his big, furry ears. "Uhh...no," he decided. "Catch ya later, hero! Gotta bounce!"

He moved to take off down the street, but the dark vigilante, clearly having had enough of this nonsense, threw a handful of lethal throwing knives at the bandit, cutting off his retreat.

"Whoa!" Changearoo said as he bounced to a halt just short of the knives that had buried themselves into the brick wall. "Do not clash with the kangaroos! We're danger-oos!"

"That's enough!" Streetwise growled as he raced towards his foe with dire intent and launched into a flying side kick, which with his enhanced strength was bound to make an impression. But while the dark vigilante was strong and fast, Changearoo was unexpectedly nimble and ducked under the attack and struck back with a kick of his own. It was a glancing blow, not enough to do any serious damage, but it put Streetwise back on his heels.

"You can't beat me that way! I used to work as a bouncer!" Changearoo taunted.

"It's time for you to eat street," Streetwise quipped. He slammed his foot against the pavement, unleashing a shockwave that rippled through the concrete. The impact was enough to send Changearoo flying, even as he was showered with rocky debris.

"Ooh, special attacks, huh?" he said. "Okay, you asked for it. Time for some...Changer Danger!"

Changearoo pulled a wand out of his pouch, and it twinkled brightly as he cast a spell. Streetwise attempted to dodge, but he took a misstep on the shattered pavement and the glimmering attack hit him squarely in the chest. A swirling, glittering, magical effect engulfed him, and as it cleared, a wholly different figure emerged.

A horrified and curvaceous brunette woman now stood where Streetwise had been only a moment ago. She was heavily made up and wore a scant black bustier, a black miniskirt that was about two inches from violating some decency laws, a pair of daring stiletto heels, and not much else. At this time of night, she would have seemed right at home at a nightclub, going dancing and trolling for guys.

In fact, as Streetwise stared down at himself in stunned disbelief, he realized he looked exactly like a—

"Haha, we're gonna have to call you Streetwalker from now on!" Changearoo laughed.

Streetwise was still reeling from the transformation, staring down at the impressive breasts that were on display in his skimpy bustier. He reflexively reached for his trench coat to cover his shame, but it was gone. The only remaining scraps of fabric that constituted his outfit had their work cut out just keeping him from exposing himself.

Changearoo was clearly enjoying the show. "Ha! Now you bounce almost as good as me!"

"Change me back!" Streetwise shrieked in a decidedly feminine register.

"Mmm...again, gonna go with 'no'? This is a good look for you."

"Aaagh!" the transformed vigilante screamed in frustration. He still had his powers, so he took a few unsteady steps in his stiletto heels and then reached down and shoved some debris out of the way and wrenched loose a manhole cover. He launched it at Changearoo with deadly force, hitting the stunned creature squarely—

"Wait, wait, whoa. Time out. You can't do that."

Streetwise's prettily made-up face fell into a confused pout. "It's a legal attack. I'm allowed to use the local environment for improvised attacks."

I crossed my arms petulantly as I peered across the table at Roger Alvarez, one of the guys from my gaming group. Unfortunately, the move caused me to push my big, jutting falsies together, a move that did not go unnoticed by Roger and the other guys at the table. This stupid crossdressing was for the birds, and I was counting the days before I could give it up. It was bad enough fighting crime as Prodigious Girl with the world looking up my skirt, but having to dress like a girl in my secret identity was just adding insult to injury.

However, Roger had slipped into his "rules lawyer" mode, so I wasn't above using any distractions I had at my disposal.

"You're just upset because I rolled a critical hit," I said, pointing at the die on the tabletop map for our Paragons & Rogues game. "Even with the dexterity penalty from the high heels. Which is BS, by the way."

I glanced over to Becky Fontaine, the only girl in our group. (The only other girl, I amended sullenly.) But she was no help.

She threw up her hands. "Don't look at me, I don't wear the stupid things. My mom made me wear heels for my sister's wedding, and I couldn't get out of them fast enough. Besides, I don't know what you two are complaining about. You're both playing girl characters."

"Changearoo's not a girl," Roger said.

"She has a pouch. You said so."

"That's not—" Roger began as he gave her a look, clearly realizing we'd gotten sidetracked. Then he turned to me. "You executed multiple attacks in one turn, Chris. You can't do that." He pointed at the board where my Streetwise figurine was placed. "You moved the rubble, picked up the manhole cover, and then threw it. That's at least two attacks, maybe three."

I expelled a dismissive breath of air in the time-honored way teenagers have when they're rejecting an argument they realize may be better than their own.

"Pfft...that's...casual strength. You don't need to roll for casual strength."

I felt like I was losing the argument, so I turned to the other guys for support. Unfortunately, Jayden and Noah were still busy staring at my chest. I don't think they were just admiring the Knights Errant logo that was stretched across my falsies.

I really needed to stop wearing t-shirts to these things.

I threw my hands down and looked to the one place I knew I'd get some justice. Caleb. My man Caleb. He always had my back. Plus, he was gamemastering at this session, so he was the final arbiter on all this.

Caleb, to his credit, was not ogling my boobs. But the expression on his face told me everything I needed to know.

Afterwards, I finished jamming my gaming materials into my backpack. Then, as I picked it up, I also slung my purse over my shoulder.

"Oh, look, she's picking up her purse and her bag at the same time! How is she doing that?" I said sarcastically.

Roger noticed that my Streetwise figurine was still sitting on the table and handed it to me with a smile. "Look on the bright side, Chris. You'll need a new figure. I've got a couple cyberpunk-style hooker figures you might like."

I shot him a sardonic little simper, but fortunately Becky jumped in before I could say something I'd regret.

"Should we be worried that you have a collection of hooker figurines?" she wondered.

"It's not a collection."

"You offered Chris her choice. That means at least two. Which also means you've got at least three more you're not willing to part with."

Noah chuckled. "She's got you there." He then added, "I, uh, would be willing to trade Orcish sorcerer figures for cyberpunk hookers."

"Okay, but it's two Orc sorcerers for every hooker."

Jayden groaned loudly. "Man, there's a ratio I didn't need to know."

"Caleb, are you ready to go?" I huffed impatiently.

The second the words were out of my mouth, I regretted it. The pack could smell weakness and was quick to pounce.

"Oooh! Caleb, your girlfriend is getting testy!"

"Gotta mind the old lady!"

"I'm not his girlf—" I began, before realizing they were only trying to get to me. I smiled gamely and nodded as I flipped them the bird. Fortunately, they took it in the spirit it was intended and thought it was pretty hilarious, especially since it showed they were able to get under my skin. Meanwhile, Caleb gathered up the last of his stuff, and as we left, we headed down the sidewalk towards the bus stop.

"Chris—" he started as we walked.

"Don't."

Fine, I was being bitchy. I reserved the right to be bitchy sometimes. Thanks to my parents thinking I was maybe transgender, I was spending the entire summer dressing as a girl. And since the reason for the misunderstanding was because I'd been attempting to cover for my secret superheroing as Prodigious Girl, I was buxom enough to be...eye-catching. The first time I showed up to our gaming group as "Christie" we hadn't even gotten any gaming done since they were understandably curious.

Still, I had to admit that my friends were probably cooler about the whole thing than I'd have been if the situation had been reversed. Jayden was still standoffish, and Noah seemed fascinated with the idea of suddenly having a buxom blonde girl in the group, but Becky and Roger were understanding. In fact, for all of his confrontations in the game and rules lawyering, Roger had gone out of his way to make it clear that he wasn't going to go easy on me simply because I was a girl, which suited me just fine.

And Caleb...Caleb, of course, knew everything.

I tucked the blonde hair of my wig back behind my ear and saw that he was looking at me.

"You're just upset because you know he was right," he said.

"I'm upset because you stood by and let him turn my favorite character into a hooker."

"Don't blame me! He was following the rules." Caleb chuckled. "You know, for all of your bitching and complaining, if a year ago someone else's character had gotten turned into a girl by a talking kangaroo, you would have thought that was hilarious."

"Well, I guess that goes to show how much I've grown over the last y—" I cut myself short as he started to point at my chest to make a joke. "Okay, fine, I walked into that one." I shook my head and gave him a sideways glance. "How is it that I'm an actual superhero, but with you I can never seem to get the moral high ground?"

"It's true. I'm incorruptible," Caleb joked. Then he got a sly grin. "Y'know, the funny thing is, Roger probably thinks he did you a favor."

"Right, because God forbid I should have any outlet in my life that doesn't involve wearing a bra and a skirt," I grumbled. "I mean, come on! You saw me do that exact move as Prodigious Girl last week when I was fighting Frosty Joe."

"Which worked about as well, as I recall," he said.

"God, I hate that guy," I muttered, even as I tugged at a bra strap that had shifted to an uncomfortable location. "Almost as much as I hate that. I literally cannot wait until I'm back to being a guy again."

Caleb didn't respond at first and was quiet for a few seconds. "Have you given that much thought?" he asked finally. He had kind of a strange tone to his voice.

"Only every day! I mean, yeah, I'll still be Prodigious Girl, but at least I'll only be wearing skirts part time."

"Yeah," he agreed slowly. "I meant more about...how it's gonna go."

I shrugged. "It's not a big deal. I go back to being a guy, like it was before." I considered that for a moment. "I mean, Mom and Dad will wonder what's going on, but they're the ones who set up this time to 'experiment.' I'll just say that this was good, but I want to go back to being Chris. End of story."

"And your job with Marty at AGON? You just...show up there as a guy?"

"I dunno. I hadn't really thought about it, I guess."

"I mean," he started carefully, like he was creeping up on a subject, "you do know that some people are going to look at you and think you're a trans girl who decided to detransition. Or who wasn't serious about the whole thing."

In truth, that hadn't really occurred to me. I winced at the thought and bit my lip as I mulled that over.

"That's not...great," I said.

"No, it isn't," Caleb agreed. He paused for a moment and added, "What does Leah think?"

That brought me up short. Leah and I had recently started dating, much more as "Christie" than "Chris." Pretty much exclusively as Christie, come to think of it.

"We haven't exactly talked about it," I hedged. "I mean, we've talked about authenticity..."

I sighed in exasperation. "Caleb, I get it. I've dug a hole for myself. A pretty deep one. I don't have all the answers. But just look at me. I'm tired of running around with everybody thinking I'm a trans girl with a boob fixation. What are you saying? That I'm supposed to stay like this for the rest of my life just to make everybody else more comfortable? They'll deal. If they can accept me in skirts, they can accept me as a guy."

"I'm not saying that. I'm just saying—"

We were interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing. I fetched it from my purse, but I didn't have to check to know who it was. Both Caleb and I recognized the custom ring, signaling that it was Marty Maddox, the head of AGON Technologies and my boss. Marty was also secretly my superhero mentor Prodigy, but I assumed this wasn't official superhero business, or I'd have gotten a message over my secure iComm device. For Marty to call me directly was unusual, but likely work-related.

"Hey, Boss. What's—" I paused. "Uh huh. Yeah." I nodded along as I listened and gave Caleb what was doubtless an odd look. Caleb immediately picked up on it and regarded me questioningly.

I turned away and lowered my voice. "Uh, which one is 'the nitwit'?" I asked quietly. I peered over at Caleb again. "Yeah, he's here with me."

Caleb's face fell. But he was still peering at me inquisitively, no doubt wondering why he was the subject of conversation.

"Uh huh," I said. "Okay. I—wait, really? Do you think that's a good id— Okay, hang on. I'll ask him."

I lowered the phone. "He wants to know if you want to come with—"

"Yes!" Caleb exclaimed.

I suppose I should have expected that. I'd mentioned to Caleb my upcoming trip with Prodigy to an island known as Parley Key, and ever since then Caleb wouldn't shut up about it. I can't say I blamed him, I was fairly excited myself. But while the place was significant to the superhero population, it wasn't what you'd call a tourist destination.

Why Prodigy was specifically inviting him to come was another mystery.

"Caleb, for real, this could be dangerous."

I heard a muffled but obviously annoyed barking reply come from my phone.

"Yes, it could!" I insisted loudly.

Caleb, undeterred, waggled his finger at the phone for me to give his answer, and I picked up the phone again. "He said yes. But I still thi—aaand he hung up," I said. I sighed and looked at Caleb as we kept walking. "You really don't have to go."

"I want to go!"

"Caleb, for real. It's not a vacation, and it's not a field trip. We're going to what is arguably the most dangerous place on planet Earth. Faraday City can't hold a candle, and I legitimately got stepped on by a kaiju last week."

"Untrue. We're going to a place that is next door to the most dangerous place on planet Earth," he corrected. "Besides, Prodigy's a dick, but he's not evil. He wouldn't let me come if it was as dangerous as all that."

"You understand we're talking about a man who once tried to convince me to kill my dog on the chance that it might help secure my secret identity. I'm not sure that he sees you any differently. In fact, now that I think about it, I'm not sure he realizes that you and Undie aren't actually the same person. I just don't want to see you get hurt. This place has some rough customers, and they're not afraid to get violent."

"Yikes, sounds heavy!" a girl's voice cut in suddenly. We'd arrived at the bus stop, and Leah Paredes, my somewhat recent girlfriend, was there waiting for us. I gave her a kiss hello, and she smiled and turned to Caleb. "Sounds like you're off to someplace kind of rough. Where are you going?"

Caleb and I made uncertain eye contact.

"Uhh...New Jersey Comic Con," I offered.

"Really."

"Regular den of thieves," Caleb deadpanned. "But I was just telling Chris that I'm sure I can handle it."

Leah shrugged. "Too bad you can't go together. But Chris said she was going out of town this weekend for a work thing. Isn't that right, babe?"

"Yeah. Lousy timing."

Leah's face screwed up into an apologetic frown. "Oh, hey, Caleb. I heard you and Lauren broke up. Sorry about that. You two seemed cute together."

I turned to him in surprise. I hadn't thought to ask, but he hadn't mentioned anything about it to me.

He gave a faint smile. "Yeah. My fault, I'm sure. Oh, hey, that's my bus," Caleb said. "You two have fun. Chris, I'll see you later."

"Please, save me, Stupendous Man!" I shrieked in my best girlish register as I squirmed in the villain's grasp.

"Fear not, Stupendous Girl!" my savior said as he came to my rescue. As he said it, he stopped right in front of me, glanced down at my chest, and tilted his head, impressed. "Not gonna lie, I've worked with a lot of Stupendous Girls. You're really selling it."

The crowd laughed, and I blushed and smiled gamely. I could see Leah at the edge of the crowd, phone in hand, recording every second of this.

Our trip to the Faraday Night Market started off okay. Neither of us had been there before, but it was a lively place with lots of weird local culture. We got some food from the food trucks and wandered through the space. It had vendors, but also street performers and indie music, even some small metahuman acts. Not all of it was to our interest, but in typical teenager fashion, we amused ourselves by quietly poking fun at some of the acts.

Unfortunately, I wasn't paying attention as we were giggling over something, and I had the misfortune of walking too close to the area being used by the "Caped Cue-saders" improv group just as they were searching for a volunteer from the audience.

To play the damsel in distress in their skit.

My timing was flawless. I was trying to work my way through the crowd, and I popped out just as they called for a volunteer. Leah told me later that many people assumed I was a plant.

The group didn't really "ask" me to come up so much as immediately abduct me, but in their defense, I could see how they'd generally feel safe in assuming that the buxom young blonde in the tight shirt was comfortable being the center of attention. Between that and a mid-tier quality wig, it didn't take much of a leap for the audience to take one look at me and assume I was part of the show.

I really needed to get a better wig.

And of course, once Leah saw what was going on, she was only too happy to get me up on stage.

"Well, that was humiliating," I said after the show. I'd pinned the Caped Cue-saders button to my purse strap, my prize for being a good sport. They'd been suitably impressed with my quick responses when I had to play my part. All that time tossing off quips while getting my face punched in by supervillains finally paid off!

"You were fantastic!" Leah enthused. "Besides, if you didn't want to be in the show, you shouldn't have volunteered."

"I did not volunteer for that."

"Chris, you stepped forward." Then she snapped her fingers. "Oh, no, wait. I guess it only looked like you stepped forward." She pointed at my chest as her face changed into a wide-eyed, open-mouthed teasing smile.

Ah, the boob joke. Story of my life. But in more seriousness, this actually did raise a pretty important point about my life as Christie. Because, y'see, when people saw my figure as Prodigious Girl, most just assumed I was genetically gifted and decided to own it.

As Christie, though, I was that curvy because when my mom found PG's girl clothes, I needed to explain why the bras were..."extra." So, when my parents, ah, suggested that I explore my supposedly trans nature on a more public stage (for undisclosed reasons that I wasn't yet aware of), to any onlookers, the obvious explanation was that I'd proudly chosen to look that way.

That was...not easy.

As my mentor Prodigy once sagely observed, "Secret identities will make you do some really dumb shit."

Before anyone feels too sorry for me, it has been pointed out that Christie's figure was inherited from PG, and PG was a specifically manufactured identity I'd created with my shapeshifting. In other words, I actually had chosen this, but I'd simply never imagined it would get back to me in my secret identity. Some might argue that I was getting what I deserved.

Leah, unaware of my identity as Prodigious Girl, didn't know the full story. From her perspective, I was a trans girl exploring her identity in a particularly audacious way.

And she was okay with it.

Damn, I think she actually was too good for me.

Although we didn't quite see eye-to-eye on everything...

She sneaked one of my French fries as we walked along, her face contorted in confusion.

"Okay...so why was he a kangaroo?" she asked.

"That's not really the point of the story."

"I don't see how it couldn't be."

"It's not so much about that," I explained. "I guess it's just another reminder of how the Slicers see me now—"

"I'm sorry, the who?"

I blushed a little. "That's...the name of our group. Slice 'n' Dice. Because we each buy pizza once a month. So, y'know...slice, and..." I trailed off as I saw the look on her face. Pretty much the same expression you'd get if you saw a video of a pair of kittens tickle fighting.

"Leah..." I sighed.

"This is my extremely serious face. And not at all the 'Oh, my God, when people ask me how big a dork you are, I'm totally giving this example' face," she teased.

As we walked along, she nudged me with her shoulder. "Oh, lighten up. Besides, it sounds like Streetwise is way more interesting now, anyway. Imagine how this grim darkity-dark hero deals with something like that. How he adjusts, how the people around him adjust. Sounds like a more fun character, if you ask me."

"Yeah. I guess," I said in as neutral a tone as I could manage. As usual, she had a good point. It drove me crazy that I'd probably be taking her advice later. But right in the moment, I wasn't really in the mood to hear it.

"Have you given any thought what you're gonna do when school starts?" Leah asked.

I knew what she meant. My parents had declared my summer vacation as my full-time girl time to explore my supposedly "trans nature." But with summer winding to a close, that meant I had a decision to make: stay full-time as Christie, or wind this down as a failed experiment and go back to being Chris.

Needless to say, there was no decision to make. I'd endured this for the sake of preserving my secret identity, but Christie was going in a box. Permanently. Everyone would still know that I'd spent the summer as a girl, but I'd rather live this down than live it out.

Leah seemed to feel differently.

"You know, you could totally go full-time," she enthused. "If you wanted."

"I don't know," I said. "Joining an improv group seems like a big commitment."

She stopped short and fixed me with a look. "Hey. This is serious. Do not make me deadname you to get your attention."

"You wouldn't dare."

"I absolutely would...Christophorosia."

I chuckled. "Okay, that's a pretty dead name."

"Plenty more where that came from. Kidding aside, you do seem more comfortable with yourself lately. I mean, I get that going full-time is a big step, but you're basically there already."

The notion that I was getting more comfortable presenting as a girl wasn't exactly the reassuring statement I'd hoped to hear. Of course, I'd only ever dated her as Christie, so I didn't think I was ready for this conversation.

I reached out and gave her hand a squeeze.

"I love that you think I could do that. That means a lot. You've been really encouraging."

"See, that's what I'm talking about. Such a girl thing to say. Effortless," she teased.

Still holding my hand, she lifted it up and gave it a little kiss. "We would have to work on your extremely tragic fashion sense."

I pointed at the logo on my t-shirt. "Leah. Light of my life," I began.

"Mmm?"

"You can make fun of my boobs."

"I do," she nodded.

"You can mock the Slicers if you must."

"I will."

"...but if you're disrespecting the Knights Errant, you'd better be prepared to throw down."

She giggled. "We'll work on it."

We walked along, still holding hands.

"So...what's going on with Caleb?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Nothing. He's fine."

Leah didn't seem very satisfied with that answer. "Girl, you're awesome, but for these conversations, I could use thirty percent less 'Chris' and thirty percent more 'Christie,' you follow me?" she chided. "It's just that I hear it got a little messy with Lauren. She seemed kind of upset. I think the breakup caught her by surprise."

"Caleb said it was probably his fault."

"Do you think there's another girl?"

I shook my head. "No. No way. Caleb's had his share of girlfriends, but he's a stand-up guy. Besides, they hadn't even been dating that long."

We walked along in silence for a bit.

"I'm not sure that he likes me," Leah said. "Caleb, I mean."

"Yeah, of course he does! He was asking about you. Months ago, he was the one who suggested I ask you out. You two just haven't spent much time together yet. He's been my best friend since forever."

"Right, because guys' best friends are always so accepting of the new girlfriend. I mean, I get it. You two have been tight your whole lives, but now I'm stealing away time with you. I mean, think of it this way—if you and I weren't dating, who would you be here with right now?"

"In this complete fantasy scenario you've concocted? Fiona Delaney," I said.

She snorted loudly. "Fiona? Oh, honey. She's way out of your league."

"So are you," I said with a sly smile.

"Ooh, that's a good line, girl. You should save that for when I'm angry with you over something," she teased, returning the smile. She shook her head. "Fiona. Honestly. I mean, maybe I've got a shot with Fiona, but not you."

"So basically, in my own fantasy scenario, you and Fiona are dating?" I stopped short. "Ooh, never mind, you're right. I'm imagining it now. Much better fantasy."

She punched me in the arm.

"Hey, this business trip you're going on this weekend...where did you say you were going again?" she wondered.

"Uh...Albuquerque."

"My condolences. How can a place with two Qs in its name sound so boring? I guess Caleb will be having more fun at the comic book convention."

"Probably. But you never know, sometimes these things are more interesting than you think."

The next morning, I swung by Caleb's house, and we ducked into an alley where I changed into Prodigious Girl and took off flying as I carried him. I still had misgivings about him accompanying Prodigy and me on this little excursion, but Caleb was practically bursting with excitement. I was flying us to a private airfield outside the city where we were to meet up with Prodigy.

"You didn't tell me about you and Lauren," I said as we flew over the city.

He chuckled. "I love that you're a girl for 30 seconds, and all of a sudden you're interested in my relationships."

"Caleb—"

"Chris, it's no big deal. She's cute, but she's kind of a featherbrain. Plenty of other fish in the barrel, or whatever."

I made a face, but kept my mouth shut. He seemed his usual unflappable self, but I'd never really known him to be all that discriminating in the past when it came to the girls he dated. Plus, he and Lauren had only been going out for a couple months. Caleb was a good guy, so that was awfully fast for things to have soured that quickly.

I bit my lip a little. "You know, if you want, I could still drop you off somewhere..."

"Don't you dare!" Caleb insisted. "Chris, this may be just another day as a superhero for you, but guys like me don't get invitations like this. Before you got your powers, how many times did you and I talk about how awesome something like this would be? And now we're actually going!"

It always struck me how we as humans have a strange relationship between danger and trust. The more dangerous something is, the more we want to see it. And the more we want to see it, the worse we are at telling how much risk is involved.

To wit, maybe you want to go see sharks in an aquarium. And on the other side of that plexiglass are literal tons of water, which could squish you. You don't know how much plexiglass there is, and have even less of an idea how much is needed to keep your visit from becoming your violent demise.

Weighed against that, you think sharks are cool. So you implicitly put your trust in whatever guy designed it and mentally cross your fingers that he was good at math. And also that on the day he was calculating the tensile strength of plexiglass against pounds per square inch of water at a certain depth and volume that he wasn't overly distracted because his girlfriend had broken up with him that morning.

As humans, we're dynamite at identifying when a situation might be dangerous. But we're kinda crap at knowing how much danger we're in. To bridge that gap, our ancestors invented a convenient risk assessment method: We turn to the guy next to us and we say, "That looks really cool. You go first."

My point is, normal people want to hang out with metahumans. We're like celebrities. I get it. That's a lot of the reason why people still live in Faraday City, good sense notwithstanding. But let's not mince words. When I'm saying that people think that it would be particularly cool to hang out with metahumans, we're talking about how cool it would be to hang out with supervillains. Girls like the bad boys.

I mean, I get it. Who wouldn't want to have a beer with Gorgoth the Eviscerator or split some sushi with Battlecrab and live to tell the tale? However, because nobody has thought yet to invent supervillain zoos—

Oh, wait, I guess those would be "prisons."

Look, my point is, it'd be cool. Mostly. But most visitors to a place where you could brush elbows with supervillains would appreciate a sense of mild reassurance that they wouldn't, you know, die.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present: Parley Key.

Parley Key was part of a man-made archipelago (well, he's more of a "tentacled horror" than a "man," but around here you learn not to split hairs) north of the Bahamas. While the other islands in the chain were lethal and frequently lawless places that one might charitably refer to as a "hive of scum and villainy," Parley was the nice one. Comparatively.

Parley's principal claim to fame was that it was widely understood to be neutral ground. Superheroes, supervillains...all were welcome. And fighting of any sort was prohibited. (Unsanctioned fighting, anyway...Parley Key was famous for hosting the annual Ultimate Metahuman Fighting Championships. Las Vegas was seriously cheesed when they lost the bidding war to host that one.)

In many ways, Parley was a high-end resort that catered to metahumans of all types. Many people wondered why it was allowed to operate in such relative proximity to the United States coast, which proved to be for two reasons. First, it had its uses. Although more than one supervillain had eluded capture by finding safe haven there, it also proved to be a place where both lawmen and lawbreakers could find literal common ground, a rare commodity these days.

Second, any move against Parley would antagonize the island nation of which it was a part, and so far, nobody was foolish enough to pick that fight.

As to exactly why Prodigy was mounting an expedition to Parley—or why he was inviting us along—he hadn't seen fit to share.

As Caleb and I flew along, I carried him in my arms with one arm under his knees and the other supporting his back. He had one arm draped behind my neck. Sometimes he put his other arm in front of my neck, which at first I thought was a little familiar, but then I realized he was just trying to stay comfortable. He was also trying to stay respectful, but my boobs were, as ever...prodigious.

"You don't mind me carrying you like this, do you?" I asked.

Caleb scoffed. "What's the alternative, I climb on your back and ride you like a flying surfboard?" He thought about that for a moment. "You know..."

"No," I said firmly as he smiled. I considered myself a master of the mid-combat taunt and used them to devastating effect when distracting villains. But every time Caleb did it to me, I fell for it.

I wagged my head a little. The way I was holding him was sometimes called a "princess carry," but I didn't want to bring that up.

"It's dumb, but Prodigy complains. Bitterly. He prefers me to carry him under his armpits."

"That sounds uncomfortable."

"That's what I said! But he was like, 'I don't want you to carry me around like some blushing bride on her wedding night,'" I mocked, affecting a poor imitation of his gravelly voice.

"I guess I'm more secure in my masculinity than he is," Caleb joked.

As we flew along, I became aware that he was looking at me. Most people tended to admire the view of the city.

"What?" I asked.

"You're still thinking about gaming," he said.

Now it was my turn to scoff. Which I did. Kind of loudly. Then I made a face like the idea was ridiculous. Caleb was still looking right at me.

"Okay, yes," I relented. "It's so stupid!"

"Chris, your character got turned into a girl by a talking kangaroo."

"Oh, yeah, like my actual life is so much less strange," I shot back. "It's the principle of the thing."

Caleb chuckled and adjusted his arm that was draped around my neck. "You're such a paladin."

"Bold words for someone whose life is literally in my hands right now."

"I mean it. You've got this sense of right and wrong and how things are supposed to be, but you can be kind of a dick about it sometimes."

"I'm gonna drop you."

"No, because your sense of righteous indignation precludes that. That's what's so—" He paused. "What's the word...?"

"Annoying?"

"I was gonna say 'endearing,' but sure, same diff."

He was quiet for a moment. "Is it really that big a deal? I mean, Streetwise getting turned into a girl. He's not real. He's just a character. Or is it still a 'principle of the thing' again?" he said teasingly.

I gave him a deadpan glance. "Funny. But yes! It's a big deal to me. I mean, it's one thing if I'd been playing a female character all this time, but now people think I'm a girl. Or that I want to be a girl."

"Uh, Chris, you are a girl. Like, right this second, you're a girl. Or, y'know...woman. Whatever."

"Oh, God, can we please not split that hair right now? Because I'm gonna say 'No, I'm not,' and then you're gonna ask why not, and I'm not gonna have a good answer."

"Look, Chris, you do you. And I get that you want to feel like yourself. But if it means anything, I just see you, not all the other stuff."

"Well, then, you're the only one. But...thanks."

Caleb gave me a small smile and then glanced away, looking down at the city.

We arrived at the airfield, and I flew us up to the hangar. As with most things with Prodigy, it appeared to be in heavy disrepair, and I had to wonder if that was genuine or simply a cover to keep nosy onlookers from getting too close. The jet was inside and frankly wasn't much to look at. I was kind of hoping for something with a little more superhero style, but it just appeared like a private jet, albeit one that had apparently been rigged for vertical takeoff and landing. I suspected there was more to it than meets the eye, but with Prodigy you never could tell.

I could see his car parked in the back of the hangar, meaning he was already there and therefore we were late. I braced myself for the inevitable lecture. But I wasn't prepared for what I saw next.

"Hey, Peej!" I heard from over by the jet. I turned to see Enchantrix and Bhramari walking up to meet us.

I gave her a quick hug and signed a greeting to Mari. To my surprise, Caleb also clumsily signed a greeting to her. I didn't know he'd taken it on himself to learn any ASL.

"What are you guys doing here?" I asked as we climbed the stairway into the jet.

"Search me. Prodigy invited us along, and I'm not one to turn down a free tropical vacation."

"It's hardly a—"

"You're late," Prodigy said over his shoulder from the cockpit. "Button us up and strap yourselves in."

Shortly, we were in the air and winging our way south along the coast. We talked and caught up, and the others occasionally looked out the windows, but it was funny when I realized I hadn't bothered to look once. I'd only flown in an airplane a couple of times since becoming Prodigious Girl, and I guess it had lost its thrill now that I could fly.

"Enchantrix," Prodigy called from the cockpit. She went up to meet him, and I couldn't hear what was being said, but when she came out, she had a weird smile on her face.

"Sooo, Shapiro," she said, walking up to Caleb.

"...Yeah?" he replied warily.

"So, I've got good news, and I've got b—"

Caleb was up out of his seat before she could finish, backing away from her in the confines of the cabin. "You keep that thing away from me."

"Caleb, I have no idea what you're talking about," Trixie said innocently as she slowly edged closer.

He ducked behind me and grabbed me by the shoulders from behind, using me as a human shield. "See? It's a trick. She never calls me Caleb."

"Oh, don't be such an infant. Be a man."

"I'm trying."

Trixie expelled an exasperated snort as she'd apparently had enough. She opened one of her teleportals about a foot across right in front of her and jammed her hand in. I could tell she was holding something shiny. I barely had time to process it before I heard Caleb's startled gasp, and I realized that Trixie had created the companion portal right behind me, in front of Caleb. And in so doing she'd made contact with the item she'd been holding: the Morphex Crystal.

Over the span of several seconds, I watched as the colorful swirl of magical energy enveloped my best friend, causing his body and clothes to shift into a familiar but extremely different silhouette. By the time the spell ran its course, Caleb had changed into his onetime alter ego, Hissyfit.

"Oh, come on!" he complained in a high-pitched register as he pawed at his cleavage, searching for any sign of the crystal that had appeared there only a moment ago. But it was no use.

Enchantrix shook her head. "You boys. Always going straight for the boobs," she joked.

Caleb—or, rather, Hissyfit, I suppose—yanked her hands away from her new bosom and gaped at Trixie with an expression of positively girlish petulance. Of course, the costume didn't help. The pink-and-black superhero costume with its short dress and frilly accents made her look like a junior bridesmaid at a goth wedding. To say nothing of her two big, bouncy pigtails that swayed about animatedly whenever she got agitated.

Like right now, for instance.

"Ren, I swear to God—!"

"Ah!" she retorted sharply, holding up a warning finger. She pointed at herself. "Powers," she began, then pointing at Hissyfit, "No powers. You might want to keep that in mind, princess. Though a little gratitude would be in order. It wasn't easy charging the crystal to hold the transformation for the entire weekend. You're welcome."

I looked sympathetically at my friend. I'd spent so much time in my girlish identities of late that I could appreciate how it felt to be trapped in female form. Between crossdressing as Christie and fighting crime as Prodigious Girl, I was spending most of my days in skirts lately. So while I wouldn't go so far as to say that I enjoyed seeing Caleb stuck as Hissyfit against his will, I had to admit I was rather appreciating the company.

I cleared my throat and turned to Trixie. "I assume this isn't just for your own devilish amusement?"

"Just," Hissy echoed peevishly, putting her hands on her hips. I tried not to smile, but she caught a glimpse of my lip twitch and shot me a dirty look.

"Hey, this is me helping! It's for her own good," Trixie said. I didn't think it was my imagination that she lingered momentarily on the feminine pronoun. "Parley Key isn't what you'd call open to the public. It's a place for supers, with few exceptions. It's dangerous. A random teenager wandering around there in shorts and a t-shirt like he's on vacation at Disney World would draw the wrong kind of attention."

"But why this?" Hissyfit complained. "The last time, I—"

Bhramari, who had been watching the scene unfold with no small amount of amusement, suddenly stepped forward. She snapped her fingers twice and gestured over her shoulder towards the cockpit with a warning look.

I understood her meaning immediately. For a lot of reasons, I hadn't seen fit to tell Prodigy about our misadventure with Xenos. Which meant that he couldn't find out that Caleb had been Hissyfit previously, or it would open up a boatload of uncomfortable questions I wasn't prepared to answer. Any of us, really.

Hissy picked up on it, too. She lowered her voice and said, "I'm just saying, why this? Even if it's safer for me to pretend to be a super—"

"It is," Trixie interjected.

"—then why a girl? The only person who saw me like this was Xenos, and he's dead. Wouldn't it be easier to dress me up as a male hero? Or to stay as myself, and wear a mask?"

That...was a pretty good point. Mari and I both turned to look at Trixie.

Trixie paused to consider that. She furrowed her brow as she seemed to be replaying the decision in her mind.

"Okay, that actually would have been a lot easier," she conceded. "That would have saved me a couple of late nights. It's just that the crystal was already encoded for this transformation matrix, so I got kind of fixated on the problem of how to extend the transformation. It's really interesting. Y'see, when the ley lines and the mana lines converge to give rise to the morphogenic properties of the—"

She paused as she realized that none of us were following a word she was saying.

"I need to hang out with more wizards," she muttered to herself.

Hissy nodded. "Uh huh. I think you enjoy seeing me like this."

"Well there is that," Trixie admitted. "Gods, I missed those pigtails."

Hissyfit made a tsk of disgust and fretted at her sissyish little outfit. "Wait a minute!" she whispered, leaning in closer. "I didn't bring Chimera's energy rifle with me! And I don't have the force field belt, or any of the stuff from Prodigy's garage that I, uh, borrowed last time! What am I supposed to do if a fight breaks out? Give the supervillains a curtsy and a pretty smile?"

"Hey," Trixie said flatly, "do not underestimate the power of a pretty smile."

"This isn't funny."

"It's a little funny," I said with a smirk at the mental image.

Trixie raised an eyebrow. "Listen, cupcake, the fact that you're even thinking like that is reason enough for you to not have a weapon. With this crowd, you so much as look like you're about to start something, and rules or no rules, you'd better be prepared to follow through."

Hissy didn't seem especially satisfied with that answer.

"Guys, I'm not kidding! Look at me!" she complained. "I look like a sorority sister dressed as Wednesday Addams." She plucked despondently at her froth of skirts. "Wednesday Addams as a flower girl. Oh, man, they're gonna eat me alive, looking like this." She glanced down at her fairly significant cleavage that the corset top had created.

Trixie said, "Girl, relax. They've seen boobs before. They'll have better options than you. If you're worried about the boys, simply be soft and delicate, but firm." She considered that and broke into a broad smile. "Just like your boobs, actually."

Hissy didn't seem very satisfied with that, so I added, "Trixie has a point. They won't know you don't have powers. Any genuine girl who showed up in that outfit would be tough and confident. They'll probably think you're a badass."

Mari signed a message.

"Right. Like a goth version of Dollface. You act confident and nobody is gonna mess with you."

Hissyfit made a disgruntled pout as she plucked at her costume and then wandered over to a mirrored storage cabinet and fretted over her reflection. Mari went with her and gave her a sisterly hug of encouragement, and fussed over her outfit like she was playing with a doll.

"Of course, if you want to practice your curtseys before we get there, I'd be happy to provide feedback!" Trixie called after her brightly.

Both Trixie and I stood there side by side, watching idly as Hissy turned this way and that disconsolately as she looked at herself.

"You know, she's got a really excellent point," I said quietly.

"Oh, she's boy bait," Trixie agreed. "Maybe not just boys. If pickings are slim, I might take a run at those ample peaches myself."

"Gross."

"Oh, please. Don't give me the 'more lesbian than thou' attitude," Trixie chided me. "If it makes you feel any better, I've had my share of boyfriends, too. Though I doubt that you and I will be competing for anybody this weekend. Probably."

"Trixie..."

"Peej, girl-to-girl, you'd do well to get laid this weekend. I get how it is with you super strength types, you're always afraid you're going to break some skinny little waifu when things get hot and heavy. Well, there will be plenty of single, attractive, and sturdy girls. Which, by the way, happens to include you. Loosen up some, and you'll have yourself the pick of the litter."

"It sounds so enticing when you make it sound like buying a puppy at PetCo. That's not why I'm going." I sighed heavily and looked at Hissyfit. "Just keep an eye on her, will you?"

"For you, darling, anything."

Prodigy put the plane on autopilot and then gathered us together. He chuckled as he saw Hissyfit, much to her embarrassment. Prodigy had never seen Caleb like this, but of course he'd also experienced the feminizing effects of the Morphex Crystal firsthand. At the time, Caleb had teased him about it, so Prodigy was likely enjoying the sweet revenge of seeing the high heel on the other foot.

We all hung around and waited, looking at Prodigy expectantly. I had to admit I was curious what kind of mission would bring us to Parley Key. It certainly wasn't for the sun and sand. We fancied ourselves as tough and capable, but the truth was that we were still teenagers, still technically classified as Sidekicks. Prodigy was a Hero with decades of experience under his belt. Whatever it was that caused him to want to pull all of us together had to be a big deal.

Finally, after an interminable pause, Prodigy made a low grumble. "Right, here's the deal. I need—" He paused. "I need—"

The others turned to each other in puzzlement, but I knew there was only one thing that could be causing this kind of reaction in my mentor.

"You need our help," I volunteered.

He wagged a finger in my direction. "That thing she said."

Mari signed a question.

"Oh, no. It's a vacation if I say it's a vacation," Enchantrix countered haughtily.

Prodigy continued on. "The guy who runs the place is an asshole named Machinator Cortex. He controls machines. He actually is a machine. Mostly. He and I—we have a history."

"You got him killed," I said.

"That's not entirely—"

I didn't let him finish. "Machinator Cortex used to be a villain named Machinator who used to kick your ass repeatedly—"

"I would hardly characterize it—"

"—until one day he blew himself up during one of his heists that you managed to stop. He downloaded his consciousness into one of his army of drones and rebranded himself as Machinator Cortex to differentiate his consciousness from all the drone AIs."

Prodigy folded his arms as he glowered at me. "You seem remarkably well-read about this guy."

"I do read the dossiers occasionally," I countered. "I particularly enjoy reading about the ones who kick your butt. Repeatedly. But that doesn't explain why we're flying out to meet this guy on his home turf?"

If anything, Prodigy seemed more awkward than ever. "Machinator and I have...what you might call a running gentlemen's bet going. We take turns taking possession of this DataTrex compiler. It's the size of a small gem, like a ruby. It's like an artificial—"

He paused as he saw the expressions on our faces.

Hissyfit and Bhramari looked at each other excitedly. Mari signed a message, even as Hissyfit was already excitedly asking the same question to Prodigy.

"Is...is this a heist? Are—are we doing a heist?"

"Are we a crew?" Trixie asked.

Prodigy sighed. "I'm gonna say basically yes."

The four of us all turned to each other and squealed excitedly as Prodigy looked on. As usual, he wore his classic expression of utter disdain, no doubt magnified in this situation as he beheld his heist crew acting like they'd just gotten tickets to a Taylor Swift concert.

"Wait a minute," Trixie said to him. "You said you take turns. How many times have you beaten him?"

My taciturn mentor was stone-faced, but squinted his eyes juuuust slightly.

"You've never beaten him?" I asked.

"I'm optimistic this year. I'm trying something new."

"Which is?"

"I'm letting you run things," he said to me.

"What? Me? Why me?"

He sighed. "Machinator is literally a probability machine. He's constantly running scenarios and plans. No matter how intricate and sophisticated a plan I try, he's always a step ahead of me. Which is why I need some—what's the expression?—there's a description for it in wargaming circles—"

"Chaotic Stupid?" Hissyfit offered.

Prodigy snapped his fingers and pointed at her in agreement.

Mari frowned and signed a complicated message, and Trixie nodded as she followed along and looked to Prodigy. "Yeah, what she said. I'm not following the plan here."

Prodigy rubbed his brow. "I'm not sure how to explain this in terms you nitwits will understand. Listen, you know Star Wars?"

"I know of it," Trixie responded.

"You're gonna have to be a lot more specific," I said.

"The movie. The first movie."

"Chronologically real world, or chronologically in-universe?" I asked.

"The first one. Fucking Star Wars."

"A New Hope," Hissyfit said sagely. "Which version?"

"Oh, great point," I said to her.

"Look. The princess gets captured by the Empire, yeah? And she's pretty important, so she's probably thinking she might get rescued. So she's sitting in her cell cooling her heels and basically waiting for Seal Team 6 to show up. But instead what she gets are these space hillbillies from the ass end of nowhere in their banged-up pickup truck who bust in with no plan for getting out. And against all odds, they pull it off. Because there's absolutely no way the Empire could have planned for that."

"That level of stupid, you mean," I said.

"Exactly."

"Which is why you want me to lead this."

"Exactly."

"This is not flattering."

My mentor stepped up to me so he was standing right in front of me. He placed his hand on my shoulder and looked me square in the eyes.

"Look, kid. I get it. From your perspective, this probably all sounds pretty insulting. Like at worst, I'm straight up calling you an idiot, and at best, I'm being incredibly dismissive of your unique insights and abilities."

The two of us stared at each other for a long moment. Then, he nodded and removed his hand.

"I hate you," I said to his back as he headed towards the cockpit.

"Don't care. But you've got about an hour before we land to figure it all out. Let me know how it goes."

"Maybe I won't do it! I don't have to, you know!" I reminded him.

"Yes, but you crave approval. And now you desperately want to pull this off just so you can rub it in my face."

I stood there and thought about that.

"Fuuuuuck," I muttered to myself.

We were interrupted less than an hour later by the insistent sound of a proximity alarm, followed by the feel of the jet sweeping into a gentle slope to the right. We all looked out the windows to get a view, but we already knew what we were going to see. Still, it was impressive. Although the gigantic, glimmering field of energy that reached up to the heavens only offered glimpses of what lay beyond.

Officially, the line of islands that lay north of the Bahamas had been named by cartographers as the Malev Archipelago in honor of Doctor Malevolence, who had raised the island chain using the same technology that he'd once used years earlier in his attempt to sink Australia. Fortunately, the Liberty Squadron had managed to stop his evil scheme. However, less than a day after Malevolence had slunk off in defeat with his tentacles tucked between his, uh, other tentacles, the islands fell under new management. And along with it, they got a new name.

Elsewhere.

Precious little was known about Elsewhere except how dangerous it was. It was a land literally made of dreams, a place where reality and imagination collided in treacherous and unpredictable ways. And any traveler bold enough to cross that boundary was subject to its rules. It was known that in addition to dozens or perhaps hundreds of lesser islands, Elsewhere had a handful of major islands that were each overseen by their own powerful governor, and it was rumored that each island had its own theme. Apparently, there was even a 1960s-era casino, if that was to be believed.

The proximity to the United States coastline also made Elsewhere a proper den of thieves for those looking to evade the law and who were powerful and either adventurous or reckless enough to accept the risks.

And we were skimming right along the edge of that strange territory.

"Should we be this close?" I asked as I headed into the cockpit. Trixie was already up front with Prodigy, seated in the copilot's chair and examining the readings from the ship's various sensors.

"Probably not," Prodigy conceded. "But we don't get many opportunities to take this close a look. The geography changes so often that this information is gold to the right people. Don't worry, we're not going in."

Trixie tapped her finger against one of the displays. "I count six major islands. There were seven the last time I was here."

"You've been here before?" I asked.

"There used to be eight," Prodigy said to her, ignoring my question. "Looks like somebody fell out of favor."

"Have you been?" I asked Prodigy.

He nodded. "Yep. Once." Then he frowned. "No. Twice...?" he said absently. "I think. That's the problem with that place, it messes with your head."

"Who's in charge there?" Hissyfit asked. She had a strange tone to her voice as she asked it, like she knew the answer but it had slipped her mind.

"Nobody knows."

I turned to him in confusion. "What do you mean nobody knows? It's been there for years. Heroes and villains go there all the time. Somebody must know."

"I don't know what to tell you, kid. Each of the major islands has someone in charge, and you do not want to get on their bad sides. It's widely assumed they report to someone, but if there's someone in charge, they've never shown themselves. Or maybe they have, and nobody remembers. Like I said, the place is weird."

I stared at the display, but I found myself drawn to looking at the scene outside the window. There wasn't much to see, but it was strangely hypnotic. Land masses seemed to appear and disappear, but it was impossible to tell if that was actually happening or if it was an optical illusion caused by the curtain of translucent energy that obscured them.

It was almost as though they were close enough to touch. The whole thing felt so...familiar...

Prodigy swung the jet out to a farther orbit around the islands, and my head felt clearer, like I'd just woken up from a deep slumber. I shook my head and watched out the forward windscreen and saw a tropical island straight ahead. And unlike the other islands, this one was clear and easy to spot.

"Is that it?"

"Parley Key," Prodigy said as he tapped out a message, asking for landing clearance. In the meantime, we circled and got a better look. From a distance, it might have been any Caribbean island, but it obviously had its own secrets.

The same thing seemed to occur to Prodigy as he looked at us. And me, in particular.

"You get what this place is, right? This is neutral ground. No fighting and no starting shit, no matter who you run into or how much it offends your delicate moral sensibilities."

I let out a discontented grumble.

"Understood?" he said pointedly, looking directly at me.

"Fine. I get it," I said.

The truth was that I didn't understand. But then this was still only my first time there. I got why heroes might appreciate an island getaway to be away from society's prying eyes, but why villains were welcome was something that bothered me. It was an attitude I'd maintained even despite the fact that at the moment Prodigy and I were on the outs with the law, considered vigilantes at best because of my encounter with Promethean.

Fairness wasn't always part of the equation.

We hit an air pocket, and Hissyfit and I yelped in surprise. Mari was surprised, but didn't react verbally, of course. And Trixie was too composed to react in that way, although she seemed caught off-guard. Even Prodigy sniffed out what might have been the beginnings of a chuckle at the unexpected bump. Which actually made me a bit nervous. Prodigy famously surrounded himself with an aura of near omniscience, if not near infallibility. The notion that he might be caught off-guard, especially in a place like this, made me edgy.

Prodigy chattered on the radio for landing clearance, and we swung around Parley Key in a holding pattern while the traffic cleared. And that did get my attention. I didn't expect there to be as much activity as there was. Some of it was from jets and other flying vehicles, but a lot of it was from metahumans flying or swimming or taking off at super speed.

Faraday City liked to consider itself a city of heroes, and even the most jaded in the populace tended to geek out when they saw the supers zooming around. But Faraday City was first and foremost a city, one with a non-superhuman populace. But this...this was a place for supers. I'd never been to anyplace so...exclusive.

"Wow," Hissyfit said, clearly reading my thoughts.

"Don't get starstruck," Prodigy warned in his usual gruff tone. "Half of these assholes are villains we'll probably be fighting next week. It's just an island resort."

"I've never been to an island," Hissyfit said.

Mari signed a message.

"Yeah, or a resort. Same," I agreed. "Still, I get what you mean. It's nothing to get excited about. At the end of the day, it's only a—oh, my God, is that a kraken?!"

The island had beautiful, clear blue water, which made the monster easy to spot. The beast was enormous, hanging out in what appeared to be a shallow lagoon with its monstrous tentacles waving about in an animated fashion. Hitting beach balls.

"God dammit," Prodigy muttered. "That belongs to Flamboyant Cuttlefish. The dumbass knows there's a strict 'no pets' rule, but he insists on bringing it with him everywhere. 'Emotional support kraken,' my ass."

We received confirmation to land, and Prodigy swooped the jet around to a series of landing pads on the far side of the island. And outsude the window, we could see there was a small group of people waiting for us.

"Come to gloat. Figures. Okay, listen up. Machinator is a smug, know-it-all prick, but he's also the guy in charge, so try not to say anything to antagonize him."

I gave my mentor a deadpan glance. "Thank God you've been training me all these months how to deal with a personality like that."

"See, that right there is the kind of shit you need to keep to yourself."

We were about to get off the plane, and Prodigy stopped us.

"Show me your iComms," he said as he pressed some buttons on his own unit. Ours all beeped in response.

"Right, this is important," he said. "Eavesdropping is expressly not allowed on Parley. And that goes for Machinator, too. His drones are everywhere, but they're limited to hearing in the normal human range. Assume anything you say immediately in front of them gets back to him. Hell, it might even be him since he can transfer his consciousness between drones. He's well-connected, but he's not omniscient."

"And we think he's going to abide by that?" I asked.

"He likes to fancy himself as god over this little patch of sunshine, but even he answers to the Elsewhere ruling council. People need to feel safe to talk here, or it doesn't work."

I looked at my iComm. "So what's this that you gave us?"

"Insurance. Parley's anti-surveillance measures are...impressive," Prodigy said. "This taps you into them and alerts you if it detects someone listening in."

"Isn't that also a form of surveillance?" Hissyfit wondered.

"Best not to think about it too hard. Look, just keep your masks on, and be discreet. There's more privacy here than you realize, so it's possible to have a private conversation if you're careful. Though if you call me by my real name while standing in front of one of Machinator's drones, I will hunt you down and kill you. It's nothing personal."

I suddenly had a thought. "If things are as tight as you say, then what about—"

He cut me off. "No, I checked. Our paperwork is in order, so everything should be fine on that score. Just stick with the—," he stopped and shook his head. "God, I almost used the word 'plan.'"

Prodigy took a small cleansing breath and glanced around at us. "Right. No questions? Everybody ready?" He punched the control for the door to open, and said, "Smiles, everyone, smiles."

He half-turned to look at us with the beginnings of a smile on his own face, which immediately faded as he read our perplexed expressions.

"Jesus fucking Christ, I can't even make island jokes with you embryos."

We followed Prodigy off the plane, and we got a better view at the welcoming committee.

I could have spotted Machinator without being coached. He was a mechanical man of some sort, looking like something between a robot and a mannequin. He was wearing a white island-style suit and Panama hat, and his facial features gave new meaning to the phrase "uncanny valley." Expressive, but also...off.

The most striking thing about him was his height. At significantly over six feet, he was a solid foot taller than I was, and even had Prodigy by a few inches. But he had a lanky build that was almost awkward.

Clever, I realized. Tall and imposing enough to catch the attention of all but the biggest metahumans, but unimposing enough to make sure it didn't come across as an implied threat.

Unnecessary, because the implied threat was standing right behind him. For one thing, a pair of butler robots flanked him, which seemed unimposing enough to the untrained eye, but they were clearly also combat models. And further back, standing impassively on sentry duty were two more hulking battle droids. Unlike the robot manservants, they were bristling with weapons.

"Prodigy!" Machinator said in a bright voice tinged with a decidedly English accent. "Wonderful to see you. I'd feared you might have simply conceded this year and saved yourself the trouble." His glowing blue eyes flicked over the rest of us. "I can see you've been keeping yourself busy as a den mother for a troop of Girl Scouts."

Prodigy turned just slightly to give us a warning look, but it was too late. Mari was already flipping Machinator the bird.

Well, I guess technically she didn't say anything to antagonize him.

Machinator, however, appeared to be delighted by the gesture.

"Charming! Always a pleasure to see the product of America's finest finishing schools. Oh, and young Ms. Blackwood, lovely to have you back. I trust we'll have none of that unpleasantness we had during your last visit."

Trixie seemed unimpressed. "I go by Enchantrix now. And as long as you keep your little pets out of my business, we'll get along aces."

"Indeed. We do strive to be discreet. And for those of you first-timers, permit me to introduce myself. My name is Machinator Cortex, and as I'm sure Prodigy has told you, I run this island. I'll be your host, so feel free to call me 'Emcee,' because I pride myself in being your Master of Ceremonies during your visit."

He pointed to one of the butler-style robots, which held up a data pad. "Copies of our rules of conduct have been placed in your rooms, and I do strongly suggest you review them and abide by them. Because while Prodigy and I have our own little...game...going, it will not excuse misbehavior. Penalties range from suspension to expulsion to temporary incarceration. We are also no strangers to the use of lethal force when provoked."

He paused to let that sink in, and then added. "You are not at home. The rules of Elsewhere apply here. My rules."

I noticed that at his mention of "first timers" his eyes seemed to flit momentarily at Hissyfit as he said it. Of course. Just as when we'd fought Xenos, she was the wild card, the one he had no knowledge of. I hoped we hadn't painted a target on her back.

Prodigy, meanwhile, was smiling pleasantly, but also didn't seem inclined to let Machinator off the hook.

He scoffed at his robotic nemesis. "Yeah. It is interesting how this place manages to sit just on the edge of the worst that Elsewhere has to offer."

"You're welcome, by the way," Machinator replied coolly.

"For what?" I challenged. Prodigy shot me a look, but the words were out of my mouth before I knew what I was saying.

"The continued existence of this island, of course."

"...Okay."

"Interesting," Prodigy said. "Seems like it might also work the other way around. Like maybe you're being allowed to run this place."

Machinator gave a slow and borderline inhuman smile. Not threatening, but not right, either.

"I suppose that's the funny thing about gratitude, isn't it? Personally, I'm grateful that you're here. And I'll be grateful that you'll be leaving in a few days after you've lost the bet. Again."

Prodigy said nothing.

Machinator peered at Prodigy's jet with disdain. "Shall I have my maintenance droids see to your...vehicle?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't recommend it. It's got an unstable nuclear reactor and an alarm with a hair trigger. Touch it, and you'll be Master of Ceremonies over a smoking radioactive crater."

Trixie, Mari, and Hissy all looked at me.

"He's kidding," I assured them. Then I paused for a moment. "I'm like 90% sure he's kidding."

The four of us trailed behind Prodigy as he went to fetch the keys to our rooms, embarrassing him with our people-watching and pointing out various metahumans we recognized. I had to admit, there weren't quite as many villains as I expected, but they still formed a significant percentage.

Prodigy seemed grumpier than usual, clearly not thrilled to be riding herd over a gaggle of teenage girls. But I don't know what he was expecting. Of the four of us, only Enchantrix had been there before. The rest of us had never even been to an upscale island resort before, much less one populated by famous metahumans! It was exciting!

As Prodigy made his way to the front desk, the four of us hung back and waited, chattering amongst ourselves. But even after Machinator's warning, the fact that we were wandering through an expensive resort hotel on a tropical island made it easy to forget the dangers here.

For most of us.

"It'll be fine," I assured Hissyfit, whose eyes were darting about nervously. She looked like she was ready to jump out of her skin. Which, come to think of it, was a pretty apt description.

"You're not a powerless teenage girl dressed in a sexed-up goth Toddlers & Tiaras outfit," she hissed.

"You're getting more descriptive," I muttered.

Just then, a hulking bare-chested dude in sunglasses strode past and gave all of us an extremely lascivious up-and-down leer that made it extremely clear what was on his mind. I'd gotten plenty worse in my time, but Hissyfit was apparently experiencing something altogether new.

"Please don't tell my parents what I was doing when I died," she said. "Or at least not what I was wearing."

Mari gave her a gentle smack on the arm and signed a message.

"Mari's right," I assured Hissy. "Just try to relax and don't worry about it. We'll keep an eye on you. Right, Trixie?"

Trixie was gone.

Hissyfit shot me a look that screamed, See?

A moment later, I saw Trixie crossing the room towards us. I barely recognized her. Somehow, in the span of scant seconds, she'd already changed out of her superhero costume into a stylish red-and-black one-piece bathing suit with a colorful sarong wrapped around her waist. Her long platinum blonde hair was up in a ponytail, and she had some sunglasses perched atop her head. And she was holding a margarita in one hand.

Even Mari held out her hands incredulously in a "what the hell" gesture.

I shook my head. "Jesus, Trixie, we've been here five minutes."

"Good point. Time's wasting," she said, taking a sip of her drink.

I peered at the drink suspiciously. "Virgin?" I asked.

"Not by any definition of the word that I'm familiar with—hey!" she complained as I plucked it out of her hand.

"You're not old enough for that."

"Don't be so provincial. I'm nearly 18," she said, plucking the glass back out of my hand. "Plus, I'm from England. Different rules. I don't talk like this just to sound posh, you know."

I grabbed the glass back. "Then you have something to look forward to."

"Actually, Enchantrix has got a point," Prodigy interjected as he approached and handed me a small stack of room keys. "Parley Key doesn't trouble itself with trifles like age restrictions on...well, anything, come to think of it. They figure if you're old enough to pick a fight with Doctor Malevolence, you're old enough to make your own damn decisions."

"Well that's—" I stopped short as Trixie triumphantly plucked the glass from my hand. "—that's kind of bullshit, if you ask me."

"Teenagers fascinate me," Prodigy said. "In an anthropological way, not to hang out with. I mean, whenever I tell you to do something, I get an earful about how you're old enough to make your own damn life and death decisions, and I should just shut up and mind my own business. Meanwhile, this island chain—which is its own sovereign nation, I should point out—says that you should be given free rein to explore your own vices rather than be held to an arbitrary age limit, and suddenly you're the defender of the status quo."

It might have just been that selfsame rebellious teenage nature, but I found myself wondering how it would play out if I told Prodigy to shut up and mind his own business.

Fortunately, Hissyfit spoke up before I got the chance to indulge any such thoughts. She sniffed and gave me a sideways glance. "Hardly means much to you, anyway. With your metabolism, I doubt you even can get drunk."

Prodigy responded with a snort of his own. "Au contraire, Pigtails. The bars here stock drinks that can even knock Gorgoth the Eviscerator on his ass. Stuff that'll pretty much kill any normal person. Machinator is a prick, but he knows his clientele."

He peered around for a moment and spotted the bar from which Trixie had emerged. "Okay. I'm gonna go get drunk and maybe find a card game. You airheads do me a solid and try not to die, or at least don't do it in any way that can be traced back to me. I'll see you in a few days. If it's an emergency and you need me—" He paused to consider that, but then seemed to change his mind and gave a dismissive shrug.

He started to leave, but I grabbed him by the arm. "Wait. Aren't you forgetting something?" I said, giving him an emphatic look, trying to quietly remind him about the heist.

My mentor nodded understanding. "Oh, yeah, right. Great point." He turned to the others. "Stay hydrated," he said as he turned and left.

Trixie put her glass down on the table, which seemed shockingly close to empty, and clapped her hands together. "Right! I'm off to find a pool. Work on my tan, read my book, flirt with some cuties..."

I lowered my voice and leaned closer. "You know we have a job to do, right?"

"Of course! Fully on board. And I will be playing my part from a lounge chair by the pool with a drink in my hand. Now, if you'll excuse me—huh?"

She was cut off as Mari leaned up against her and patted her arm repeatedly to get her attention. We followed her line of vision to a small group of people gathered together. Mostly supers, it looked like, but so many people around here were in casual clothes and island wear it was hard to be sure.

"Ooh, shiiit," Trixie said, spotting the guy at the edge of the group. "Fuck off, is that Synthwave?"

Mari nodded excitedly.

The guy had swarthy skin, a bald head, and a flashy kind of vaguely 80s-inspired costume that was equal parts flash and clash. "Didn't he break into the Louvre last month?" I asked.

The two girls gave me a look like I had no idea what I was talking about.

"He's an activist," Trixie said. "Totally counter-culture. And the hottest DJ on two continents." She turned to Mari. "What are you still doing here? Go say hi!"

Before I could say anything, Mari was off like a shot.

"Is that...safe?" I asked.

Trixie waved her hand. "Worry about him. She's a fangirl. She's been trading playlists with him for weeks."

I was about to say something, but I knew that Mari had kind of her own underground following as "DJ B. Buzzy." I guessed it was okay.

"Is that...Euphoria?" Hissyfit asked.

Both Trixie and I turned to see, and sure enough, I spotted a familiar flash of blonde hair with a hair bow perched in it. Euphoria wasn't dressed in her usual costume, but she was a celebrity hero and frequently had a number of costume changes. She was a performer, and talented in her way...and also kind of a nitwit.

"Bollocks, there goes the weekend," Trixie muttered. But then she did a little double-take as she saw that Hissy had kind of a dreamy, faraway, hopeful look on her face.

"Oh. Ugh. Really?"

"I mean... I've got a few of her albums..."

"All of her albums," I corrected.

"It's just... I mean, it'd be fun to meet her. You know, maybe casually at some point over the weekend."

Trixie rolled her eyes and draped her arm around Hissyfit's back. "Here. Let me introduce you."

Before Hissy could respond, Trixie opened up one of her portals immediately in front of her, and then shoved her through. Hard.

I turned to look and saw that the companion portal was immediately next to Euphoria, and watched as Hissyfit stumbled out, right into the surprised heroine's arms, nearly knocking both of them over. I was worried that Trixie might have just started an altercation, but it seemed that Euphoria had recognized Trixie's portal from the times they'd reluctantly teamed up together. From across the room, the two women exchanged a look that would frost over the tropical beach outside.

Fortunately, it didn't seem like the shocked and bewildered Hissyfit had inherited any of the ill will. A couple members of the entourage were checking to make sure Hissy was all right, and Euphoria even appeared to be paying her some kind of compliment about her outfit.

"Finally, the children are in bed," Trixie quipped. "Right, I'm off."

"Wait! You said you'd keep an eye on Hissy."

"Peej, relax. She's with Mari. Her biggest danger is that Euphoria's stupidity might rub off on her. Go have fun."

She disappeared into one of her teleportals, leaving me standing there by myself.

I sighed heavily as I glanced around the lobby and spotted a sign directing guests to different parts of the complex. Some of them sounded kind of interesting. But then my gaze fell on the bottom entry, and I knew where I was going to go.

I was going to go pick a fight.

Machinator was a bundle of energy as he entered his private office. "Office" in his case being a somewhat relative term, since it was more of a highly advanced computer and robotics lab. He had an opulent desk with what appeared to be a commanding view of the island on one end of the space, but he hardly used it except as a power play for company. Generally the space was kept dim, lit by the dozens of computer screens.

Some screens displayed complex schematics, others were graphing a bewildering myriad of probability scenarios, and many more surveilled every corner of the island. Nothing was left to chance. Just to look at the screens, it was obvious that Prodigy and the girls were taking over an impressive amount of computing power.

His chief of security, Hodgepodge, was already there waiting for him. She was a liquid-form being. Based on her bioluminescent tendrils, Machinator suspected to a high degree of probability she was some form of alien sealife, but she'd never seen fit to share her background.

As he entered, he could tell that she'd been busying herself "trying on" some of the robotic drone bodies that Machinator kept in the office. Her natural camouflage abilities made her a gifted shapeshifter, able to take on the appearance of almost anyone, but without a proper skeleton, she had difficulty maintaining a standing posture for any length of time. So she'd taken to wrapping herself around the robotic bodies to use as a "skeleton" that she could control via her natural bioelectric impulses.

The combination of her natural abilities and a hidden battle bot just underneath made for a potent combination, one that had caught several unwary supers by surprise.

"The game's afoot, Watson!" Machinator brightly declared as he entered. As he did so, the robotic body he was in seemed to lose its liveliness and vitality, as he shifted over to his favorite analysis droid that was positioned over by the bank of monitors.

"I really hate it when you call me that," Hodgepodge said. He wasn't listening, of course, wrapped up in his little game. She used the opportunity to change bodies herself. The one she'd been wearing had been nearly as tall as Machinator's usual body. It was 6'5", but still lithe and feminine. Eye-catching, but not the most useful.

Her liquid body slipped quickly and gracefully off the robotic frame to her favored unit. It was a few inches shorter, but powerfully built with broad shoulders. She swept over it and adopted her usual female form with the long white hair, and dressed the body in a utilitarian dark jumpsuit. In this form, she might have been taken for a female MMA fighter, but it was useful for grabbing the attention of the metahumans visiting Parley Key.

She walked up behind him and peered up at the screens as she finished shapeshifting and brushed back her hair. But suddenly, she reached down and smacked her arm.

"Grr, stupid mosquitoes."

"Don't tell me they can actually penetrate your epidermis. I expect you to be made of sterner stuff."

"No, but apparently it doesn't stop them from trying. That's the problem with this place. Half the guests are invulnerable and most of the staff are robots, so I guess they've decided to go after anything they perceive as a soft target."

"I'm sure I wouldn't know."

She gave a tight smile and peered at the monitors. "Oh, I see your little play date has finally arrived," she said, seeing Prodigy. "That's sweet. Hopefully, you can get this over with so things can get back to normal around here."

Machinator didn't even bother to turn to look at her.

"Hodge, I'm fascinated to know. Do you wake up every morning with a sense of wonder that I haven't killed you already?"

"I just appreciate that you take time out of your busy schedule to threaten me with that every day. I'd have thought you'd have automated that by now."

"All right!" he said with breathless anticipation. "From now on, constant surveillance! I want comprehensive updates on all of their moves and activities every five minutes! No, wait, there's no telling what he could accomplish during that time. He's too cunning. Every one minute!"

"Counter proposal. How's about I reserve the Honeymoon Suite so the two of you can fuck and cut the sexual tension?"

"We have a Honeymoon Suite?" he said, pulling up a floor plan of the main hotel. Then he paused. "Ah. Sarcasm. Amusing."

Hodge's eyes drifted across the bank of monitors. "Well, whatever they're up to, it doesn't seem like they're in any hurry to get to it. I—"

Machinator noticed it a split second before she did. He wasn't even looking at the screens, but he was in constant contact with the stream of data and turned to examine the display.

"It seems like they've made the first move after all," she admitted, looking at the screen with Prodigious Girl on it.

"Get down there. See what she's up to," Machinator said. But she was already heading out the door.

Machinator smiled as his synthetic eyes darted about from screen to screen. "A classic king's pawn opening, my old adversary. But I think you'll find I'm already ten moves ahead of you."

"Good afternoon, young lady, how may I help you?"

I smiled tightly as I approached the counter. Becoming Prodigious Girl had been an eye-opening experience, in more ways than one. As Chris, I'd had adults refer to me as "young man," which, while technically true since I was still a teenager, always rankled me a little since it had a patronizing and condescending edge to it. Which was nothing compared to being called "young lady." I felt like the speaker was always a whisker away from telling me how very grown-up I looked in my pretty little outfit. I don't think I was being oversensitive.

That said, I freely admit that I was perfectly content to be completely two-faced about the matter. I did, after all, charge into battle in a miniskirt calling myself Prodigious Girl. Call it cognitive dissonance if you must, but I was perfectly happy to work both sides of the street and use my appearance to get an edge, and also chafe at the condescension.

For those who would take me to task for such an opinion, I should point out that the speaker in this particular instance had been a robot.

I'd entered the part of the sprawling complex that held the battle arenas. This area was connected to the main hotel area, but as you might imagine, had a very different vibe. The supers wandering around back here were tough-looking, muscular, and frequently male. The amount of testosterone in the area was through the roof. I'd been PG long enough not to be overly self-conscious about my appearance, but times like this with my miniskirt swishing about my thighs I felt like I was the male Chris and that I'd just slipped into a pretty little flower girl dress and popped into the men's locker room after a football game.

I'm not gonna lie, fighting supervillains as a girl in a skirt could be a smidge embarrassing. But pounding those guys' faces into the pavement and seeing their expressions as they got beaten by someone who looked like me? That never got old.

My point is this: the ogling, the lascivious stares, the "what do you think you're doing here" looks...I was used to those.

But this? This was calculated. Literally calculated.

The robot behind the counter was very clearly not human, but was female-coded in both appearance and voice. "Her" appearance was even more manufactured than my own. She might have simply said, "How may I help you?" or she could have referred to me by my name. I'd passed any number of cameras on my way here—they weren't subtle—so there was no question this robot knew exactly who I was.

So all this "young lady" business was just Machinator trying to get a rise out of me.

Fine. Two could play.

"Hi," I chirped blithely as I smiled and tucked my hair back behind my ear. "I heard your arenas are super-fun, and I was hoping to reserve one?" I put a little bounce in my step and then rested my arms on the counter between us and leaned forward.

The move showed off my bosom pretty spectacularly. I didn't expect the drone to be distracted by such things, but I supposed Machinator or one of his goons might be watching. For that matter, Machinator might be inhabiting this very drone. Not that I imagined he was likely to be distracted by such a move, either, nice though they were. No, I figured I was sending one of two messages: I'm every bit the bimbo you think I am; or, I can play-act too, asshole, and screw you with that "young lady" bullshit.

Clearly, I was spending too much time around Prodigy.

The robot put on a performative show of checking her computer terminal.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, miss. Our arenas are indeed world-class, but they frequently book up months in advance. I don't suppose you have a reservation? What name might it be under?"

"My name's Prodigious Girl. But I'm here with my mentor, Prodigy? Maybe he made a reservation?"

Tap-Tap-Tap on the keyboard. (The robot was using a freaking keyboard. This was just insulting.) "Hmm. No, I'm sorry, I'm not seeing anything under that name."

"Bummer!" I pouted.

Okay, this was where the fun began. Machinator was expecting a move, and now I'd made one. He was smarter than me, but right now he's wondering what I'm up to with all of this "I'm watching you watching me watching you" baloney that Prodigy was always pulling on me.

So, I figured he was wrestling with two possibilities.

One, he'd just slammed the door in my face, and thus he could walk away confident that he'd thwarted whatever dumbass plan I had brewing because I didn't think to book in advance on account of I'm an idiot.

Or two, maybe I'm not an idiot, and I knew damn well there was no way I was simply walking in here off the street. In which case, the smarter move might be to give me enough rope to hang myself and figure out my game while also keeping me in a situation he could control.

By the way, if all of this "plans within plans" nonsense sounds exhausting, it really, truly is. This is what hanging around Prodigy all day is like. Being Prodigious Girl isn't just about the cape and the boobs, people.

I gave myself a dejected push back from the counter and did a little pirouette. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Four steps.

"Oh, young miss!" the robot called.

I'm going to level with you here. I absolutely did not think for one second that was actually going to work.

"Hmm?" I said, returning to the counter.

"Just one moment." Again with the tapping on the keyboard. I swear to God, this was exactly like standing at the airline counter. I froze a "confused but hopeful" smile on my face.

"You're not going to believe this, but your timing is perfect," the robot said. "Arena 7 has been under repair for weeks now, and they only just now completed repairs. It's wide open, if you want it."

"Wow, really? That'd be awesome, thanks! But...don't you have other people in line waiting to use it?"

Screw him. I wasn't going to make it too easy.

"Yes, but because Prodigy is here as a special guest of Emcee, and you're a member of his party, that affords you special privileges. It moves you to the head of the list!"

"Wow, I guess it really is all about who you know," I said. I felt stupid making small talk with an automated drone, but I had a feeling that behind those glowing blue eyes, I might be face-to-face with our host.

I put my elbows back up on the counter and leaned forward excitedly. "Okay, so I've never done this before. How's this work?"

"I'll be happy to explain it to you, young lady..."

Trixie leaned back in her beach chair and adjusted her sunglasses. She was wearing her sunscreen, she'd found a nice spot by the pool, she had a refreshing adult beverage by her side (and nobody to wag their finger at her about it), she had a copy of the latest Hexes and Horrors book, and a lovely view of some cute guys (and girls) hanging around who she could chat up.

Meanwhile, Mari and Hissy were off having fun with their respective idols, and by now Peej was probably off getting her face kicked in on some fool's errand for Prodigy.

Different people vacation in different ways, she figured.

It had been ages since she'd really been off on her own like this. Living with Bhramari and her family meant living by their rules. Before that, she had been living at the Sanctuary under Demetria's rules. She was grateful to have a home and people who cared about her, but she also missed the freedom of doing what she wanted, when she wanted. It—

These were dangerous thoughts, she realized.

The problem was that she wasn't a hero, not really. Not like Peej or Mari. Trixie's natural state was to be tormenting people on a hedonistic tear of self-destruction. Mom's little girl. And the daughter of Rhiannon Blackwood had some impressive thigh-high boots to fill. It was only Demetria's mind-whammy that had put Trixie on the straight and narrow. Had turned her into a hero.

It was an odd thing. This person she'd become wasn't real. But she liked herself better now than the spoiled and dangerously lethal, self-indulgent creature she'd been before.

And with Demetria gone, Trixie worried she was backsliding. Thoughts of freedom that might give way to anarchy. Friendly teasing that became cruel torment.

She ran her fingers over her Hexes and Horrors book, and it made her think of Caleb and how he'd once teased her for liking the series. Teased her mildly, and her first reaction was to turn him into a girl and practically torment him. Even she wasn't that thin-skinned. Caleb was a decent enough guy, but there was just something about him that made her want to mess with him.

And she hadn't been entirely forthcoming on why she transformed him for this trip. He'd taken the whole thing pretty well, but it was getting hard for her to tell the difference between mischief and malevolence.

Of course it occurred to her that if she really felt that way, she could always remove the little "present" that she'd left in Hissyfit's room.

A tentative smirk played across her lips. Naah, she thought. Surely that was just mischief.

She didn't remember the person she used to be precisely, but she remembered enough to know she didn't want to go back. The last time she'd been at Parley Key, things had gotten out of hand. She'd—

Trixie stopped that thought in its tracks, determined not to indulge in it. Having to constantly police her thoughts was exhausting, but it was her only option.

She took a deep, cleansing breath and sat back to read her book.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Nope. Not gonna look. It's not possible," Trixie said to herself as she ignored the heavy metal footsteps and turned the page of her book. "No way my luck is that bad."

"Well, as I live and breathe! Young Lady Blackwood, our paths cross again. The smallness of the world we live in never ceases to amaze."

There was, Trixie realized, a small chance that she was simply experiencing something like a brain aneurysm that was causing her to hallucinate. Or perhaps a psychotic break that was causing her to experience a dissociation from reality. That would be nice.

She turned and lowered her sunglasses to bear witness to what she already knew. Vagabond and Echelon.

They were, as ever, an unlikely pair. Vagabond, a dark wizard who looked more like a homeless vagrant, and his companion Echelon, a hulking cybernetic man.

"Hey, 'zat the new Hexes and Hos book?" Echelon wondered.

"What are you two even doing here?" Trixie said. "First, I find out Euphoria is here, and now you? Am I being punished for my misdeeds?"

Vagabond made a husky chuckle. "Oh, true that'd be an impressive ledger, I've little doubt, Lady Blackwood. And the dark gods, they do have their senses of humor. But truthly, you hit nearer the mark than you might surmise. We'uns was here for the concert last night."

"We never miss a Euphoria show," Echelon interjected proudly.

"Don't fail to miss it," Trixie muttered. "Well, I won't keep you, so..." She made a brushing-off gesture with her hand and returned to her book.

"Of course. Y'all have a pleasant day. Charmed as always."

At the word 'charmed,' Trixie's whole demeanor changed. She was up out of her chair in a trice, hurrying around in front of them to cut them off.

"Wait! Wait, wait, wait," she said. Then she lowered her voice and nodded her head toward an area where they wouldn't be overheard. "Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you."

Vagabond was practically preening with delight. "I'm breathless. What can a humble wizard such as myself do for the Princess of the Nightmare Dimension?"

She pressed her lips into a disgruntled pout. He was teasing her, but she didn't want to risk antagonizing him.

"The Eidetic Charm."

"Mmm. Shame what happened to it."

"Blowed up real pretty, though," Echelon volunteered.

"I need it. Or one like it."

"Now you sound like your venerated mama. Y'know, there's plenty o' people in this world who'd like to see me dead, but Rhiannon Blackwood is one of the few I truly believe could make good on the threat. So my first thinkin' is to wonder why I would want to help her daughter."

"If you're questioning my allegiances, I think that would be evident. She tried to kill me to save her own neck. I took that personally."

"Don't we all. They don' make a Mother's Day card for that, do they?" he quipped. "Still, no harm in the tellin.' I could regale you with the sordid tale, but it all ends the same. Lolo here and I...we have a way of usin' up a place. Suffice to say, we didn't leave nothing behind could be traced back to us."

"Not nobody, not nothin'," Echelon agreed.

"But five Charms were made, according to legend," Trixie reminded him. "Three were lost in the Discordance."

"Ayup. And your most prodigious of friends made short work of the one we had."

"Which means there's still one out there. If you were looking for one, you must have had some leads on the other."

"Sorry, Lady Blackwood. As they say, no dice. Our leads led us to the one it led to. If there's another, I'm not familiar. Although, in plainspokenness and candor, even if I did know, I doubt I'd be tellin' you. You may not have love lost with your dearest mater, but like the man say, it still places you as next of kin to chaos."

He gave her a discerning look. "Maybe you've changed, and maybe you ain't. But you and me have crossed swords enough that if I were able to put that Charm in your hand, I might lie awake thinkin' you mean to wipe my mind or make me think I'm a bowl of collard greens, yeah?"

Trixie started to open her mouth to plead her case. To explain that finding the Charm was quite possibly her last hope. That it's memory-altering powers might be able to make permanent what Demetria had done to her, and to take away the spiteful and cruel creature she'd once been and put it in a box forever. To let her be the person she wanted to be. Needed to be.

She started to say all that, but the words died on her lips. Because she knew that Vagabond was right. She'd given him no reason to trust her.

The cruel actions of the person she'd once been were going to kill her just as effectively as her mother had once tried to do. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

It was late by the time Hissyfit got back to the enormous suite that the group shared, and the place was mostly dark. She wasn't sure if that meant that the rest of the group was already in and sleeping, or if they were still out partying somewhere. She suspected it was the latter. Superhumans tended to have incredible endurance, and the fact that Parley Key catered specifically to them gave the entire place a "work hard, play hard" kind of vibe.

When this group let off steam, they really let off steam. And Hissyfit, appearances aside, was still a mere mortal. One who needed sleep.

"Long day" didn't even begin to describe it. When she'd woken up this morning, she'd been a teenage guy named Caleb whose biggest concern was how to ask his boss for a few days off on short notice to take this trip. And now she'd spent the day as a superheroine named Hissyfit, brushing elbows with superheroes and supervillains at an island resort.

It was all pretty insane.

This, she realized, was Chris's world. Wake up as a guy, fight crime as a girl, touch up your lipstick, and pretend like everything was perfectly normal. As Caleb, Hissy had been perfectly content to mostly appreciate this world from the sidelines, never once imagining that she could be part of it. Not really.

That was a perspective that was being put to the test more and more often lately.

She'd barely laid eyes on Chris today. When she was invited, Hissy had hoped they'd be spending more time together, but PG (being PG) took her mission from Prodigy extremely seriously and took off to go fight...evil, probably.

Hissy sighed. Fortunately, the day hadn't been a waste. Mari was good company. Hissy's ASL was lousy, but Mari had learned to be pretty quick typing out messages on her iComm. And they got to hang out all day with Euphoria and her entourage!

That part was an absolute dream come true. Well, mostly. It would have been nice if PG was there to share the moment, of course. And in Hissy's fantasy version of that meeting, she wasn't a girl in a pink dress and pigtails. But the rest of it was pretty great. Not that PG seemed to have much use for Euphoria. Peej said she could be kind of a self-centered creep, but Hissy liked her. Liked her a lot, in fact. At first, the two bonded over their shared antipathy for Enchantrix, but pretty soon they were chatting like girlfriends.

Hissy got some pretty funny feelings around Euphoria, actually. Nice feelings. Kind of a warm glow. And...yeah, Euphoria was sweet, and really pretty. It was nice to do nice things for her. Pretty soon, Hissy was running around fetching drinks for her and everybody. Euphoria joked that Hissy was like their waitress in her little outfit, which was pretty f—

Wait a second, she thought.

Euphoria had pheromone-based powers. She mostly used them to control men, but Hissy wasn't exactly what you'd call a—

"Oh, that self-centered creep!" she said, aghast. Now that she replayed the evening in her head, Euphoria had absolutely been having some fun with her, clearly using her powers to direct Hissyfit about. She wasn't exactly cruel about it, more playful, but...

Ugh, she was totally getting an apology from Euphoria for this.

Hissy grumped. The problem with all these metahumans—heroes and villains alike—was that they were used to getting what they wanted. Enchantrix was only too happy to dump her in a girl's body when it suited her whimsy, and Euphoria had been quick to take advantage.

How did PG deal with all of these louts? She wasn't like that.

Hissy looked at the bed longingly, but she had another problem. She wasn't just stuck in a girl's body, she was stuck in her superhero costume. When Enchantrix designed it, she hadn't seen fit to give it a zipper. The thought of trying to sleep in a bustier and high-heeled boots was adding insult to injury.

That's when she noticed something shiny sitting on her dresser. She hadn't put it there, and it didn't look like anything that came with the room. It was small and metal, about the size and shape of a coin. And it was sitting on a small sheet of the hotel's stationery that had "HISSY" written on it with a smiley face. Hissy reached down to pick it up—

The second she made contact with the strange coin, there was a brilliant flash of light. And as she gaped into the mirror above the low dresser, her jaw dropped.

Her costume had changed. Or, more precisely, it had all but vanished. Boots, tights, gloves...everything was gone, leaving only bare skin, and the dress portion of her costume had transformed into a pretty little pink chemise with a daring V-neck and lacy black edging. It was technically sleepwear, but there was nothing remotely utilitarian about it. The only concession to practicality was that she was still wearing her mask, ostensibly to hide her secret identity.

"I'm going to murder her," Hissy said, plucking at the lacy edge of the skimpy little garment.

She looked down at herself in distress. "I bet even you never had to wear anything like this, Chris," she said to herself.

Hissy put her hands on her hips as she examined her reflection. "Trixie is treating me like a Barbie doll, Euphoria has got me running around like a waitress," she grumbled. Then, affecting a deeper voice, she mockingly said, "'Hey, let's go on an island vacation. See some supers!' Brilliant thinking, Shapiro..."

As she slept, Hissyfit soon discovered that the gentle ocean breeze and the constant crashing of the waves against the beach were not the only forces encroaching upon Parley Key. While Elsewhere's other islands were too far removed to be an immediate danger, their influence extended far further. And visitors could feel that influence brushing gently against their dreams as inexorably as the influence of the moon on the ocean tides...

"...and zat is why zee song is titled, 'Sidekick Romance'!" Euphoria declared in her thick French accent as everyone started laughing.

"Hey, you," Prodigious Girl said, sliding up behind Hissyfit, who was seated at the end of the couch. She touched Hissy's shoulder and then sat down beside her.

Hissy looked at her in surprise. "I didn't think you were coming," she said in a whisper. "Weren't you doing that thing for Prodigy? Besides, I thought you weren't a big fan of..." Her eyes cut over to Euphoria, who was already regaling her entourage with some story she'd doubtless told countless times before.

"It can wait," PG said. "And, uh, I'm not a fan of her music, but I like that you like her."

"Oh, Hissy," Euphoria said, holding up her empty glass. "Pardonnez-moi. If you are going up to the bar, would you be a dear...?"

"No, we're good here," PG countered with just a hint of challenge in her voice. Euphoria visibly bristled, and Hissy did her best to stifle a smile.

"In fact," PG said as she patted Hissyfit on the thigh, "we need to get going. There's something I need you to see."

They said their goodbyes, and PG led Hissy over to a balcony outside. It was a beautiful night with the moonlight on the water. There was a smell of flowers on the warm, gentle breeze, and in the distance came the ceaseless sound of ocean waves crashing against the shore.

"Is everything okay?" Hissyfit said, suddenly aware of the privacy of the location. "Did Prodigy—"

Her question was cut short as Prodigious Girl turned to face her and swept her up in her arms. Before Hissy knew what was happening, the other brunette heroine had her in a passionate kiss. At first Hissyfit didn't respond, shocked as she was from the unexpected gesture, but eventually she felt herself becoming swept away in the moment, kissing her back. Hissy felt her skin flush and her heart flutter. It was soft and genuine and unconditional as they embraced more tightly and their bosoms touched. It felt weird, but it also felt so very right.

As they broke contact, PG smiled playfully, but stayed at a close, intimate distance.

"No emergency. I just wanted to get you all to myself," she said in a low and throaty purr full of promise and desire. She leaned in for another kiss, but Hissy reflexively pulled back.

PG wrinkled her nose. "What's wrong? You're acting weird."

"I'm not the one who's acting weird."

"It's this place, isn't it? I'm sorry," PG said, running her fingers down Hissy's arm. "I thought it would be romantic, but...bleah. But don't worry. We'll be home soon and things will be back to normal." PG gave Hissy's hand a supportive squeeze. Then she leaned in for another kiss, and this time, Hissy didn't back away.

"God, I didn't—" Hissy began breathlessly as they parted. "I mean, uh, back to normal. That's...what you want?"

PG looked at her strangely. "Well, yeah. In a few weeks, I go back to being Chris full-time, and the dresses and wigs get boxed up and buried in a hole. A deep hole. I spend enough time in skirts as Prodigious Girl."

Hissy wasn't sure what to say to that. The implication of going back home...going back to how things were...it made her want to—

"Hey, you with me? We're almost home," Prodigious Girl said.

Hissy blinked and squinted into the bright sun, with the wind against her face and body.

The scene had shifted, and Hissy saw that they were far up in the air, flying high over Faraday City. PG was holding Hissy in her arms, and Hissy's arms were draped around her neck. It always amazed Hissy how safe she felt when they flew like this. It should have been terrifying, but being held in PG's strong arms was— Was—

A bit of confusion washed over her, and she held down her skirt with one hand, which blew up as they came in for a landing outside Hissy's house. PG swooped down and opened her bedroom window and carried her inside like she was carrying her like a bride across the threshold.

"Thanks," Hissy said as PG put her down.

"Sorry this weekend was a bust. I owe you a vacation," PG said as she took both of Hissy's hands in hers and stepped close for a kiss. Hissy practically swooned.

"I gotta go. I'll call you later," PG promised as she took off out the window.

Hissy was still lost in the joy of the moment before she realized the problem. She spun around to face the full-length mirror on the wall and saw that she was still a girl! Still dressed as Hissyfit!

"Wait—!"

"Did you just get back?" a voice came from the open doorway. She immediately recognized it as her sister, Lori. Who was peering at her inquisitively. But not in shock. Because—

"Hey, Earth to Caylee," Lori said, waving her hand sarcastically. "Did you just get back?"

Caylee turned to see her reflection in the mirror and saw that she was still a girl, but one wearing a casual dress. She still had Hissyfit's jet black hair instead of Caleb's natural brown hair, but it was worn down around her shoulders instead of the two big pigtails. She touched it absently.

"Um...yeah," she replied.

Lori scoffed. "Must have been a good trip for you to be such a space case."

Lori headed down the hallway, and Caylee looked around her room. It was familiar, but changed. Some of her things were here, but this was a teenage girl's room. Her room.

"This isn't...how it's supposed to be," she said, touching her brow.

She wandered out of her room and headed downstairs. She was barely aware that by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, her outfit had changed again, into a different dress.

"Caylee, there you are," her mother said. "I've been calling for you. Your girlfriend Chris is here."

"Chris...?" Caylee said in confusion as Chris bounded up and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. This was Chris as 'Christie,' Caylee realized. Chris dressed as a girl. Pretty in his blonde wig, but decidedly more of a trans girl.

Unlike Caylee.

"This isn't right."

Chris looked her over. "Seems okay to me. Is that a new dress? It's cute."

"Very new," Caylee said, frowning.

From over in his recliner, Caylee's dad called over to the pair. "You two have fun! But I want you home by ten, young lady!"

"No. No. No," Caylee repeated as she squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't want this!"

Even before her eyes opened, she could feel that everything had changed.

"You hear me? I want you home by eleven, young man!" his father called as they walked out the front door towards the sidewalk.

"Right," Caleb said, looking down at himself. This was right. What was the problem, again?

"Everything okay?" Chris asked.

Chris ran his hand down Caleb's arm, their fingers brushing against each other as Chris gave Caleb's hand a gentle squeeze. Caleb responded by reaching over with his other hand and brushing Chris's long blonde hair over his shoulder. Then he leaned over and kissed him.

Chris smiled as they parted. "What was that for?"

"Just..." Caleb shrugged.

Chris smiled broadly and held Caleb's hand as they continued walking. "Well, c'mon, Romeo, or we're gonna be late. I don't want to miss this movie. I've been waiting all summer for this."

Caleb nodded along as Chris talked. There was something scratching at the back of his mind. Something not quite right. But...it felt right. Felt real.

Chris snapped his fingers in front of Caleb's face. "Hey, you with me?"

Caleb blinked as he saw Chris. The male Chris. Caleb hadn't seen him like this since school let out months before. Chris had been running around as 'Christie' full-time since then. A trans girl. But...not a trans girl? But...

"Hey. Hey, hey, hey," Chris soothed, touching his friend's shoulder gently as he sensed Caleb's distress. "It's okay."

"It's not. This isn't—this isn't real."

"It could be. Though I think you might feel better if you say what you want to tell me."

Caleb lowered his gaze and shook his head.

Chris reached over and raised his friend's chin up so they were looking at each other.

"Caleb. It'll be okay. Just tell me what you want to say."

"I—I love—I love you," he said. Giving the words form gave them weight, made them feel real. "I-I love you. You like this, you as Prodigious Girl, you as Christie, I don't care."

Caleb started to cry from the magnitude of his confession, and Chris took him in his arms.

"I didn't know," Caleb said hoarsely.

"And now you do. That's better, right?"

"I don't know what I'm going to do."

Chris reached over and gently wiped the tears from his face. "Yes, you do. You already know. But for right now, it's time to wake up."

Hissyfit awoke with a start. The dream—it was a dream, wasn't it?—had been so real that it took her a moment to realize what and who she now was. If the dream felt like reality, then this felt like the dream. She wasn't a girl—not really—Trixie's playful machinations notwithstanding. In a couple of days, she'd be back to being Caleb, and everything would be back to normal.

Everything.

She'd be a guy, and Chris would be Chris, or he would be soon enough.

"Oh, God, Chris," she said, surprised a little by the reediness of her voice. The vulnerability.

But now she knew the truth. Or maybe she'd always known. Her feelings for Chris were achingly real.

She needed Chris to see. To see things the same way Hissy had seen them. To know that these feelings could transcend outer appearances. But she couldn't do that as Caleb. If she waited until they got home, then Chris would say that Caleb was only attracted to Prodigious Girl, or the manufactured femininity that Chris put on as Christie.

The first move had to be hers. To show Chris that outside appearances didn't matter. She couldn't convince Chris with empty words as Caleb, but she could show her as Hissyfit. Show her that she understood. That they could be together, and it didn't matter as who.

She just didn't know if she'd be able to do it.

I awoke the next morning feeling strangely tired. I'd gotten a bit of a workout fighting drones in the arena the previous afternoon, so I figured I'd sleep like a log. Which I guess I had, but I awoke not really refreshed. Fortunately, physically I was in good shape and my bumps and bruises from yesterday had healed. Which was good, because if things went according to plan, I had a long day ahead of me.

Our suite of rooms was one of what Trixie had referred to as a "high-roller suite," and she was suitably impressed. We all were. The place was bright and sunny with a stunning view of the ocean, and it was huge. The place was practically the size of my parents' house. We each got our own bedroom and bathroom, each adjoining a spacious and elegant central living room with an attached kitchen. All the comforts of home.

After getting cleaned up, I emerged from my room wearing my superhero costume, recalling that Prodigy had warned us never to remove our masks. I could see how easy it would be to relax and assume you were just at an island resort, but we had to assume that we were under constant surveillance. This was not a place to lower our guard. Ever.

I emerged from my room to find Trixie and Mari sitting at the large dining room table, having breakfast. Mari was wearing her mask, and Trixie, although she didn't wear a mask, had her hair in the platinum blonde color she favored as Enchantrix. And both were in bathrobes.

"Check out the eager beaver," Trixie teased as she saw me in my costume.

I was about to say something when I saw the door across the way open up and Hissyfit emerged, also wearing her mask and a bathrobe. She seemed a bit haggard, like she'd had a rough night. And as she looked up and saw me, she appeared absolutely shaken for some reason.

But again, before I could act on it, a bit of motion caught the corner of my eye. For a moment I thought it might be Prodigy, but then I realized that it was a robotic butler crossing the room. And over on the other side of the room, I saw a robotic maid cleaning and tidying up.

Mari signed a message excitedly.

"You said it, Mari. This is the life," Trixie agreed as the butler topped off her coffee. "We even get butler service. How great is that?"

It might have been because I'd spent hours yesterday fighting robots and drones, but I tensed up at their presence. "Should we be letting them in here?" I said meaningfully.

Trixie held up her hand and started counting off on her fingers. "Okay. First, if Machinator is watching us—"

"Which he is."

"—fine, which he is, then it hardly matters, does it?"

"One of them could actually be Machinator," I pointed out.

Trixie turned to the butler bot. "Hey, Bentley. Are you Machinator?"

"No, miss."

Then she turned to call over to the maid. "Hey, Babette—"

"I'm not Emcee, either, miss," Babette assured her.

My eyes narrowed suspiciously. Babette seemed a little quick on the trigger with that denial.

I rubbed my eyes. Great, now I'm making enemies out of Bab-bot.

Trixie continued. "And second, Bentley here will make you absolutely anything you want to eat. There's also a juice bar over there and an omelet station." She pointed towards a buffet set up with a spread of food that was nothing short of decadent.

I held up my hands in surrender. "Objection withdrawn. I'm so hungry I'll gladly surrender my privacy for a western omelet and hash browns." I grabbed a bagel just as Hissyfit was finishing putting her plate together. She was quiet and still giving me weird little side-eye glances.

"Hey," I began quietly, but she pulled away and sat down at the table. Like I said, weird.

"No sign of Prodigy?" I asked. He didn't strike me as the type to sleep in on vacation. They shook their heads.

"I believe Prodigy was off to the Turing Salon," Babette volunteered cheerily.

"Dang, he's hitting it hard. Good for him," Trixie said as she sipped her coffee. Then, she got an impish smile on her face and sat up in her seat. "Sooo, now we're all here. Nobody's gonna talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" I asked as Bentley refilled my juice.

"Oh, come on, don't tell me you didn't notice. It's practically one of the selling points of this place. Your dreams last night. It's something about the proximity to Elsewhere, but everybody gets the most amazing lucid dreams."

At the question, Mari brightened visibly, but Hissyfit, who had been quietly poking at her food, kind of stiffened up. Her eyes darted up at me, and she glanced away shyly.

"All right, everybody has to spill," Trixie said, her eyes dancing between each of us. "I'll go first. In my dream, I'm the Empress of the Nightmare Dimension—"

"Oh, God, Trixie," I groaned.

"No, no, I'm sure it's fine. I'm probably a benevolent dictator or something. But I'm looking fine in this strappy black leather getup. Anyway, these two young royals come in—a guy and a girl, I think they're twins. And I'm guessing that in their kingdom they don't believe in a whole lot of clothes, because...damn. Anyway, they tell me they're there to negotiate a peace between our kingdoms. And when I say 'negotiate,' I mean—"

"I think we get it."

Trixie threw her head back. "Oh, my gods, I was there. It was amazing." She playfully cast her gaze around the table. "Who's next?"

Mari nodded enthusiastically. My ASL wasn't the greatest, and it didn't help that Mari was going a mile a minute as she excitedly described her dream. She went on at some length, and I was able to follow maybe half of her impassioned description, enough to get the sense that it was intense, and even a bit torrid in spots. She also slipped into some non-ASL gestures. At one point, I absolutely saw her make the Vulcan salute, and I was fairly certain that at another point she did the hand gestures for 'Little Bunny Foo Foo.'

Trixie nodded and sipped her coffee as she followed along. "Wait, who was covered in Nutella?" she asked. "Okay."

This went on for about another minute, and Trixie shook her head in marvel. "Wow. Points for creativity. Right, who's next? Peej, I bet you had something good."

"Sorry. Dead to the world. I didn't dream at all. At least nothing I can remember."

"Really. How odd. I thought everyone did this." Then she got a cat-that-ate-the-canary look. "Best for last, Hissyfit. You've been quiet. I just know you must have had something...memorable."

Hissy had been strangely quiet. She hardly looked up and shook her head.

"Oh, come on," Trixie pressed. "Sexy little red-blooded girl like you? I bet it was fun. Why don't you—"

"That's enough," I said firmly. "If she doesn't want to talk about her dreams, she doesn't have to. She—"

Hissy was staring right at me, and suddenly I became aware of how many feminine pronouns I'd been using.

Ooooh, God. Suddenly, I knew what was going on.

"Besides, that's hardly the most interesting thing," I said, trying to change the subject. "You wouldn't believe these battle arenas."

Trixie rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious! These are like full-on X-Men style danger rooms. It's like a holodeck where you can program different environments, different opponents. I did pretty okay, too. You guys should come down and check it out. Bit of a rougher crowd, but they—"

Trixie and Mari seemed to lose interest pretty quickly, but I was mostly directing my enthusiasm to Hissyfit, who I knew would be interested, if only from the wargaming perspective.

"I gotta get ready," Hissyfit said, standing up. She took her plate over to the kitchen sink, and I followed after her.

"Hey. Hey," I said, lowering my voice so we couldn't be overheard. I touched her arm, and I swear she practically jumped out of her skin. She looked me in the eyes.

"It's okay," I whispered. "I know exactly how you feel."

Her expression softened. "Y-you do? I-I mean, did you have...the dream?"

I scoffed quietly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. I remember the first time I slept overnight as a girl. The dreams I had were...kind of a lot. That's what happened, right?"

"Um. Yeah. Basically."

"I know what you're going through. And it sounds like this place messes with your head. We'll be home in a couple days, and everything will go back to normal."

My hand was still on her arm, so I slid down to her hand and gave her fingers a supportive squeeze. She leaned closer and then licked her lips as if she were about to tell me a secret, even as her other hand came up towards my shoulder, almost like she was going to brush my hair aside or something, which was weird. She suddenly paused with a funny look on her face, like she'd just remembered something, and I raised my eyebrows expectantly.

"Pardon me, ladies," Bentley said in his robotic voice as he reached for the dirty dishes. It brushed us back, and as I turned to Hissyfit, she'd shut down again and retreated towards her bedroom.

"Do you have any plans for the day, miss?" Bentley asked conversationally.

"Actually, yes," I said brightly. "I'm going to go find some of Machinator's robots and smash them into a million tiny pieces."

"Very good, miss," the mechanical man responded. "Enjoy your day."

Later that morning, I started my second day in the arena, and I'd definitely developed a taste for it. Back home in Faraday City, Prodigy's "training room" for me was actually nothing of the sort, instead just being a big empty basement where I strapped on a VR headset and tried to dodge flying drones that shot at me.

But this? This was on another level entirely. I could choose battle scenarios and environments, opponents, difficulty. I won't lie, I got my ass kicked several times, but I was doing okay. And I had no idea how satisfying it would be to smash the drones into tiny pieces.

Oh, my God, I needed this. My pent-up aggressions had pent-up aggressions, and this was a rage room built for superheroes. But it was more than that. I got to push myself. I had enough room to fly at full speed and pivot and twirl before coming crashing down like a rogue comet. It was part aerial ballet, part demolition derby. I could definitely see the attraction.

It also laid bare the danger of this place, and I don't just mean the life-and-limb variety.

Machinator clearly traded in information, and it wasn't lost on me that the first thing they asked when I filled out the form to fight in the arena was what my powers were. On its face, it was a perfectly reasonable question. After all, they needed to calibrate the sessions to my abilities and power level. But in so doing, I was also handing Machinator my playbook.

Fortunately, I knew better than to be fully forthcoming. I admitted to my more obvious powers—strength, flight, invulnerability—but I didn't mention the ones that only a few close people knew about.

My shapeshifting was limited enough that I doubted that it'd even come up while I was here. Being able to switch between Prodigious Girl and my male secret identity as Chris was handy, but I didn't want to do anything to draw attention between my identities while Machinator might be watching.

My other power was my unpredictable mimicry ability that let me duplicate the powers of nearby supers. I'd yet to figure out how to control it, and it seemed to only pop up in moments of life-threatening danger. The arena was dangerous but not deliberately lethal, so I rather hoped my mimicry power would stay under wraps for once. Again, that was something I'd just as soon Machinator remained unaware of.

I gave Machinator credit, though...he knew how to flex. There was no unauthorized fighting allowed on Parley Key, and he relied on his security bots to keep the peace. As a result, they were highly visible and omnipresent. Even walking around the hotel or on the beach, you could hardly turn your head without seeing one standing sentry.

The only problem with that approach was that supers—and I included myself in this—smashed robots on the daily. We had no reason to be afraid of them. Some fool might be more inclined to start a bar fight if he thought he could take the bouncer.

But that's when you got the "holy shit" moment entering the arena. Because these weren't just mindless drones, they were full-on metahuman stand-ins. Sure, I could dial up a flight of mindless attack drones, but thanks to the magic of robotics and holography, I could also dial up bots that simulated actual metahumans. For privacy and copyright reasons, I couldn't fight copies of actual heroes or villains, but they had some pretty good off-brand generic approximations.

Part of me wanted to fight Prodigy, but I thought better of it and instead dialed up a pretty capable quick-and-dirty copy of myself. Holy cow, she gave me a tussle. I actually learned a few moves from fighting her!

The simple fact was this: while most supers might see a security drone and think, "Meh, I can take that thing apart," just down the hall in the arena, Machinator was trotting out battle bots capable of simulating even Promethean's abilities and power scale. Get your ass kicked a few times by one of those, then the next time you see a sentry bot, you'll think twice about what it might be able to do.

Like I said, Machinator knew how to flex.

As to how he was managing this, I had no idea. Prior to his death and rebirth as "Machinator Cortex," there was nothing in his file to suggest he could create robots this powerful. And the fact that we hadn't seen anyone use an army of robots like this in a play for world domination suggested that there was something geographical to Elsewhere or Parley Key that somehow energized them into being this dangerous.

Not that I minded. I really needed to get out of my head. Prodigy had done his usual "swoop and poop" and left me holding the bag while he was out having fun. Trixie and Mari didn't seem to be taking anything seriously. And now Hissyfit was acting all weird around me.

As I mulled that over, I was interrupted by the robot Prodigious Girl slamming me in the face with a sturdy metal pipe.

I wiped the trickle of blood from my mouth and then gave the robot a wicked look. For a moment it appeared to hesitate, as if it had realized that it had picked a fight above its weight class.

Because, y'know, it had.

I smiled and launched myself back into the fight.

Smash therapy for the win!

The arena combat area had two primary entrances that guests could use. The first approach was primarily designed for spectators. That entrance was wide, open, and airy. It had enough character to give the sense of a sports stadium combined with enough pageantry that it was clear this wasn't simply your average workout area.

The second entrance was designed for the fighters, and the heavy armored door was designed to be particularly imposing in an effort to keep out casual lookie-loos or those who might be searching for a gymnasium. The clear visual message here wasn't merely that this was an exclusive backroom or a place for the players, but that this was an area where the weak or unwary could get seriously killed.

Hissyfit cautiously approached the big armored door. It was still morning, and early enough that there wasn't yet a lot of traffic through the corridors, since many people were on island time. As she neared the door, she pulled out her key card, taking one last opportunity to peek over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being observed before using it to unlock the door and gain access.

As she turned back to face the entry, she found herself nose-to-nose with Enchantrix, who was standing in front of the door, about six inches in front of her.

"Ahhh!" Hissyfit cried out, startled.

Trixie responded with a polite smile. "What'cha doin' there, cutie pie?"

"I— I was just— With the—" she sputtered. Then she pulled herself together. "I was just...going to go check on Peej."

"Peej is fine," Trixie assured her. "And she doesn't need any distractions right now. She certainly doesn't need a powerless little cheer... lead..." Her voice trailed off as she gave Hissyfit a more discerning look. "Your pigtails seem...poofier."

Hissyfit smiled nervously. She couldn't have looked more guilty if she tried.

Trixie peered at her more closely. "That's not the same color lipstick that I gave you."

"What? That's ridicul—"

Trixie leaned close and sniffed her. "Are you wearing perfume?"

This time, Trixie didn't even wait for an answer. In a blink, she summoned a teleportation portal that whisked the two of them over to a more secluded area.

"Shapiro, you opportunistic little shit," she hissed. "You're going in there like that to try to seduce her? And before you say anything, yes, I know she's into girls. And obviously, you know it too. Gods, you've got boobs for five minutes, and your very first thought was to use this as an opportunity to get in her pants? I should— I should turn you into a bug or something. Definitely something with more than four legs."

Hissyfit looked at her guiltily.

"You know, you could at least try denying it. Beg for mercy. Something."

Hissy's expression softened. She glanced down, averting Trixie's gaze. Then her eyes cut upwards to look at her meaningfully.

"Oh," Trixie said as her expression changed to one of stark realization. "Oh. Oh, shit. Really? How long have you...?"

Hissyfit shrugged uncertainly. "I need...help."

"Truer words were never spoken. I mean, you know you can't stay like this, right? I mean, I suppose I could find some way of making it permanent, but—"

"No! I...no. I don't want that. Look, this isn't my story to tell, but Peej is...complicated. She's my best friend. I'd never do anything to hurt her. But as me, she just sees me as, well, me. But I was thinking that maybe while we're here and I'm like this, that she might start to see me differently."

Trixie closed her eyes and grimaced like she was nursing a headache. "The dreams here will mess you up, won't they?" she said, mostly to herself.

Hissyfit froze. "Y-You know about my dreams?" Her cheeks blushed visibly pink.

"Gods, I was really hoping I was wrong about that," Trixie said. "This is all my fault. We're far enough from Elsewhere that we don't get the full effect of the dreamscape, but even at this distance, the dreams are very...lucid."

"I don't get it. If you didn't know about my feelings for Peej, you can't have known what I dreamed. So what did you—"

Hissy stopped, because now it was Trixie's turn to look guilty, although only a little guilty, and in a kind of proud-of-herself sort of way.

"You turned me into a hormonal teenage girl knowing that we were going to a place where I'd have lucid sex dreams?"

"Well, I didn't know..." she hedged.

"Trixie!" Hissyfit shook her head in disbelief, causing her big poofy pigtails to swing about in a way that was somewhere between hilarious and adorable. "Oh, my God! I'm sorry I made fun of your fanfic! Is that what you want me to say?"

"It's not that," she said. Then she corrected herself. "It's not only that. I'm sorry, all right? I'm sorry. It was a joke!"

"I'm not laughing!"

Trixie stopped as something occurred to her. "Wait a minute. Are you saying that you had lucid sex dreams with Peej in them?"

"No!"

"Well, then, what are you complaining about?"

"You're kidding, right? Can you honestly not see the damage you're doing?" Hissy snapped.

Trixie scrunched up her face like she was dealing with something really unpleasant and didn't know how to express it. "I...can't," she admitted finally.

"Can't...what?" Hissy said, confused.

"I can't tell when I'm hurting people. Not always. I thought I was just teasing. You know, like friends do."

"Trixie, you take things too far."

"Yeah. It's just," Trixie moved her hands in little circles. For a moment, Hissyfit wondered if she was trying to cast some spell until she realized she was anxious about something. "I've...never had friends before."

Hissy stared at her uncertainly. "What?"

"Look, I don't know if Peej has shared with you any of my tragic backstory, but suffice to say that being the daughter of Rhiannon Blackwood is a tough row to hoe. I've lived most of my life on my own. And the person I used to be...wasn't nice. It wasn't until I joined The Sanctuary that I...changed. Mari was the first real friend I ever had."

She paused and got a faraway look. "Okay, technically, the second," she amended. "And then Peej. I used to call the people I hung out with before that 'friends,' but now looking back on it, that seems pretty messed up. You learned pretty fast never to show vulnerability around them."

"I think you're showing some right now," Hissy said. Then she caught herself. "Time out. How is it that you turned me into a girl and now I'm feeling sorry for you?"

"I'm good," Trixie said with a little smile. "But 'fess up, Shapiro. You've been on both sides of the gender divide, and in both modes, you've got a thing for our girl. You think she'll feel the same way if the situation was reversed?"

Hissyfit got a pensive expression, thinking about the path she was on. In a few days, she'd be back to being Caleb, and Chris would be back to living in drag as "Christie." And not long after that, he'd be back to being regular Chris.

Caleb didn't know what that made him, but he knew it didn't change how he felt. Chris, however, for all his gifts, would have trouble with the adjustments. He'd be hung up on what people thought and what this would mean to their friendship. But for the next few days, Caleb had a unique opportunity to meet Chris on his own turf, to demonstrate that their feelings could transcend their outer appearances.

"I have to try," Hissy said. "Does this mean you'll help me? I mean, this is kind of your fault."

"Don't push it, honey. But—" she sighed. "—yes, I'll help."

Hissy seemed slightly dubious. "I appreciate the support, but...why are you helping me, again?"

"You grow up the way I did, you learn to take comfort with who you can, when you can," Trixie said. "But what you're doing? It's stupid. I mean like blindingly stupid. Honestly, this is the kind of boneheaded play I'd expect to come from Peej."

"Starting to feel less supported."

"My point is, I can't even imagine doing this for someone. You'll probably get hurt, and this will almost certainly fail. But the fact that you're willing to risk it... I dunno, I'd like to think something like this exists."

Hissy gave a wan smile of acceptance.

"Okay, let's go find a bar or something. I'm way too sober for this shit."

"Trixie, it's like 9am."

"Mimosas, then. We're on a tropical island. I'm sure they've invented some pretext."

In one of the many lounge areas, Trixie sat back in her chair sipping her mimosa as Hissyfit haltingly related the rest of her story. She'd omitted the part about PG not really being a girl or that Chris would soon be returning back to being a guy in his secret identity, but she was able to impress in nonspecific terms the idea that she was up against a bit of a time crunch to "make her pitch," as it were.

Trixie nodded. "Not the least of which is that in a few days, you'll be—" she paused, choosing her words carefully, "—less fancy."

As she said it, her eyes cut to the side, casting a discerning glance at the other two people who were seated at their table.

"Right dere's the gospel, make no mistake," Vagabond said in response. "Always breezier to make woo when one is bein' properly fancy."

"Mmm. Woo," Echelon agreed.

Hissyfit peered at the disheveled-looking black magic magician, who at worst was dressed like a homeless person, or more charitably as a guy who should be walking up and down the beach with a metal detector. He and the hulking cybernetic Echelon had invited themselves to this conversation, and Trixie hadn't said anything. In fact, when Hissy tried to get them to leave, Trixie invited them to sit.

"I'm sorry, why are you here, again?" Hissyfit said to the unusual pair. Then she turned to Enchantrix. "Why are they here?"

"Because time's against you, and you need all the help you can get. Which brings me to my final question. Doesn't Peej already have a girlfriend? Lacey, Loni...?"

"Leah," Hissyfit said with a sigh.

Vagabond and Echelon both sucked in air and winced as they made eye contact with each other.

Trixie nodded solemnly. "I trust that this girl is a skeevy, faithless hussy and Peej is much too good for her?"

"Leah's awesome," Hissy said with another heavy sigh. "She's kind, she's funny, she's pretty. And she's accepting of Peej's...eccentricities," she added carefully, unsure how else to describe their relationship.

They all sat quietly for a long moment.

"We could kill her," Echelon suggested.

Vagabond's face lit up, and he nodded agreeably.

"We're not going to kill her," Hissyfit said.

"We'll call that Plan B," Trixie said with a smile. Then, at a glare from Hissy, she added, "Joke! That's a joke. I'm joking. Honestly, it's hardly worth being a reformed villainess when I can't even joke about murdering people."

Hissy fired another withering glare at her.

"Joke! Still joking," Trixie said, rolling her eyes as she took another sip of her drink.

Vagabond cast a glance over at Trixie. "Y'know, the goodwill to our pigtailed associate here notwithstandin', for someone purportin' to want to reform herself, you do seem mighty at ease with the notion of breakin' up your prodigious friend and her girlfriend."

"Today's my cheat day."

Hissy gave her an intent look, causing Trixie to do a double-take as she read her expression.

"Ohh. This is that thing we talked about. About me going too far?" Trixie realized. "Well, if you know a better way to do this, speak up. I'm trusting you to keep me honest. I'm off the map here."

"I can't believe I'm the other woman," Hissy lamented. "But still, that's Peej's decision. I just need her to see that I—that we—can be more than we are."

She turned to see Vagabond and Echelon both grinning knowingly.

"What?"

"Honey, if me and Lolo here can make it work, you an' your prodigious lady love got nothin' to worry about," Vagabond said.

He reached his hand over, and Echelon accepted it.

"Yeah. Vee was a wizard from the wrong side of the tracks, an' I was the wrong side of the tracks," the big cybernetic man said with a grin. "You got it easy."

Hissyfit gave a faint smile. So far she was working two identities to Chris's three, and the permutations were stacking up. She wasn't sure that qualified as "easy," but she appreciated the sentiment.

Trixie checked the time. She put her glass down and stood up, reaching her hand down to Hissy, who took it and also stood.

"Gentlemen, we shall see you anon. My young protege and I have a pressing appointment, and I fear that where we go, you cannot follow."

"The Nightmare Dimension?" Vagabond asked.

"The ladies' spa. Toodles."

Hissy looked down uncertainly as one of the resorts robotic drones held her hand and filed her fingernails, even as another massaged her feet. She felt absolutely ridiculous. Being dressed up as a superheroine was one thing, but being pampered like this was something else entirely. Another client—presumably another super—walked past on her way to another part of the spa, and she was wearing a skimpy cloth robe that did nothing to hide her extremely curvaceous figure beneath.

The fact that Hissy was wearing an identical robe did nothing to make her feel less like an intruder in this space. A teenage guy like Caleb would have been tackled and forcibly ejected for getting within 20 yards of where she was currently seated.

Belatedly she wondered how many times Chris had found himself in situations like this as Prodigious Girl, as a woman among women. She wondered if he felt as awkward. Or if maybe he once did, but didn't anymore. Before all the Prodigious Girl business, Hissy never got a sense of Chris being transgender, but he slipped into the role so quickly it was hard to think of PG as anything other than a girl.

Hissyfit, however, was lagging a bit in that regard. Some of the spa treatments had been pleasant enough, but she'd been poked, prodded, plucked, and painted to within an inch of her life, and it was starting to wear on her nerves.

"Do you like any of these colors?" the robotic drone said, holding a tray of about a dozen different nail polish colors. On one end, they were understated to the point of boring, ranging to colors on the other side that might have been genuinely radioactive.

Hissyfit looked helplessly up at the drone. They were like some of the other drones throughout the complex, given female-shaped bodies and voices. They were quick with a compliment, but maddeningly neutral when it came to having any kind of opinion, frequently gently pressuring Hissy into making decisions about her various spa treatments for which she had no frame of reference. And this was the latest.

"That one," Hissy said, pointing at a color a little past halfway on the scale. It was a vibrant dark magenta that she thought might match her costume. Of course, her costume had gloves, making the whole thing rather pointless. Even more pointless than the polish it proceeded to put on her toenails.

"How we doing here, girl?" Trixie said with a smile. Like Hissyfit, she was wearing a short white cloth robe. It was hanging loosely open in front, not fully open, but not far from it.

Hissy blushed and averted her eyes. "Can I ask a question?"

"Of course." Trixie examined the nail polish Hissy had chosen and seemed suitably pleased with the choice. "Nice to see you're getting into the spirit."

Hissy's eyes cut over at the drone who was quietly at work. The robots were perfectly capable of keeping up inane conversation, but she'd expressed interest in silence. Still, she knew better than to assume that they were merely dumb machines. Any or all of them could be sending information back to Machinator. For that matter, it might be Machinator himself down on his knees painting her toenails, which made for a strange mental image.

"So, we've been doing all this," Hissy began, "But you could have changed my appearance any time you wanted," she said, carefully avoiding any mention of the Morphex Crystal or the fact that she wasn't really a girl.

"Ah, you're curious why we're here. It's because I'm teaching you magic, pretty Hissy. Not the hocus-pocus variety, but the kind that girls know and boys don't. Most boys," she amended with a smile.

"You want me to feel feminine?"

"I want you to feel confident. And this weekend, beauty is one of your weapons. If you want Peej to see you as someone different, you have to see you as someone different. And, ah, not to put too fine a point on it, but you need her to feel like you're out of her league. Make sense?"

"I think so."

"Good. We're almost done here. Once those nails dry, we're off to our next lesson."

"Forget it! Forget it," Hissy insisted. "I'm not doing it!"

Trixie leaned back in the small plush chair as she rubbed her temple. "It's like pulling off a band-aid. Or something. I forget how it goes. Just get your ass out here."

"No! Hey, you. Robot. Get over here."

"How may I be of service, miss?"

"I try to be reasonable," Trixie muttered to herself. She waved her hand, and one of her magical teleportation portals appeared in front of her, and a split second later, a startled Hissyfit fell through with a startled shriek.

Trixie had deposited her out of the teleportal right in front of a trio of full-length mirrors outside the changing rooms, where Hissy had been hiding out of sight just a moment ago. She was still wearing her mask and her hair was worn up in her two big signature black pigtails, but the rest was like nothing she'd ever worn.

Hissy was clad in a daring pink floral sundress with skinny spaghetti straps over her shoulders. The dress was feminine, flirty, and almost scandalously short. It might have been considered girlish except for how the neckline plunged down in front to showcase her womanly curves. She was showing a lot of skin, and from the light fabric of the dress, probably felt almost naked. And the strappy high heels weren't helping her confidence any.

Trixie, meanwhile, was seated in one of a ring of chairs, obviously placed there to give friends and family a place to sit. Seated next to Trixie was Bhramari, who let out a cheeky wolf whistle. And next to her were Vagabond and Echelon.

Hissy spun around unsteadily on her high heels to face them, still reeling from being teleported.

"That right there's what we'uns call an anticlimax," Vagabond opined. "The way she was carryin' on, I was certain she was au naturel in the altogether."

"Or naked," Echelon said.

Hissy's hands came up to try to cover her cleavage, or any of the extensive amount of skin that was on fetching display.

"What are they doing here?" she wailed.

Trixie turned to look at the group. "Mari would never have spoken to me again if I let her miss this. Also, she agreed to help with the music. And the boys wondered what was up and wouldn't stop complaining until we let them join us."

"Y'all make fun, but I'm secure enough in my masculinity to admit I'm a sucker for a good old-fashioned dressin' room montage," Vagabond said.

Hissy had the wide-eyed look of a cornered animal, so Trixie got up out of her seat, walked up to her, and put her hands on Hissy's bare upper arms supportively.

"Sweet, sweet, sissy Hissy," she said. "Do you remember what I told you in the spa?"

"...Yes."

"You need to build confidence, and we don't have time. I know this isn't easy. We're going to pick out some outfits, and you're going to try them on. You're out here for a minimum of 60 seconds for every outfit, understand? I want to see you work it. I want twirls. I want some RuPaul's Drag Race shit. You with me?"

"Okay," Hissy said reluctantly. "But...just a couple outfits, okay?"

Trixie turned and saw the others huddled around one of the salon's tablet computers. Hissy didn't know it yet, but that was how they were able to pick out dresses. And shoes. And accessories. Several beeps sounded from the tablet as they tapped away, and the drones busily began scampering around the store, retrieving the items and bringing them back to the changing room.

"Uh...yeah. Sure. We'll see how it goes. For now, just give the boys a little twirl and get your girl on."

She then turned to Mari.

"Hey, Mari! Little something to get her in the mood, yeah?"

Mari nodded and tapped on her iComm and pulled up a list of music. She skimmed through the list and then poked Echelon with her elbow. He nodded, and a moment later his cybernetic implants shifted to deploy some fairly high-quality speakers, which started playing "Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne.

Hey, hey! You, you! I don't like your girlfriend!
No way, no way! I think you need a new one!
Hey, hey! You, you! I could be your girlfriend...

As was typical for her, Hodgepodge knew what she was going to find well before she got there. Being well-informed made her job significantly easier, and a well-informed security chief tended to have a longer life expectancy. It also gave her time to plan for contingencies and different ways of solving potential problems before they became problems.

Although it didn't necessarily help when her boss was constantly yelling into her earpiece.

"Yes. Yes, I've seen the footage. Yes, I'm on my way. I'm almost there. I'll call you when I have eyes on the situation."

Part of the joy of being a liquid-form shapeshifter was that her eyes were not really her eyes. So when Machinator got into one of his moods, she didn't actually feel the need to roll them sarcastically.

She was wearing her usual bulky battlemech as her "skeleton," which gave her the tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular-appearing physique she favored. She was moving at a measured pace with her eyes focused on a distant point in front of her, and she was pleased to see that people were stepping out of the way as they saw her coming. Even metahumans were familiar with the "somebody's about to get their ass kicked" gait.

She rounded the corner and heard the shouting and steeled herself. Then there were the cheers. And laughter. And music.

Hodge entered the boutique, which was as lively as she'd ever seen it. Normally, it was a quiet and reserved place with maybe a couple of shoppers thumbing through the racks or looking for a special outfit for one of the island's activities. There was one such activity planned for that evening which she expected would have driven up a bit of interest in the boutique's wares, but...this was a full-on one-woman fashion show.

She moved closer, sticking to the side of the store to better maintain a commanding view of the space, but nobody was paying her any mind.

All the attention was on one of the teenage girls who'd arrived with Prodigy. Hissyfit.

She was wearing a stunning and low-cut black evening dress with a long side slit and elbow-length gloves, which would have given her a much more adult appearance but for her two big pigtails. If not for her mask, she might have looked like a teenage Wednesday Addams trying on one of Morticia's dresses.

She'd apparently been trying on a number of outfits, and had attracted a crowd of maybe a couple dozen people. And a fair number of men, which was peculiar. The music playing from Echelon's speakers might have drawn some attention, but a teenage girl trying on dresses was hardly a—

Ah. There it was. Euphoria. She was famous enough to draw a crowd, and her pheromone powers were enough to get the boys riled up.

Hodge watched as the blonde heroine jumped out of her seat and snuggled up behind Hissyfit with her hands around the girl's waist. She swayed her hips back and forth in a not particularly chaste gesture, apparently in an effort to teach the girl the proper way to swing her hips in the dress. From the back row, the heroine Zephyr blew them a kiss, and a sudden gust of wind blew up Hissyfit's skirt, causing the girl to yelp in surprise as everybody laughed.

All of this might have amounted to a minor noise complaint. Except that Machinator, meanwhile, was losing his fucking mind.

Three of the girls who had arrived with Prodigy were present here, and the fact that they were causing such a disruption was causing him to blow a circuit. He'd already been down here twice, posing as one of the attendant bots trying to figure out their scheme. Prodigy was playing cards with some high-rollers, and his sidekick Prodigious Girl was still in the arena. Hodge figured those two were the ones to watch, but not if these three were causing a ruckus.

Time to be a cop.

Her first move was to get Echelon to turn off the music.

"Okay, show's over, time to move on," she then said in a commanding tone. She cast an eye over at some of the guys who appeared to be less inclined to follow her directions. "Boys, unless you're shopping for a pretty dress to wear tonight, there's nothing else for you here." That taunt seemed to work more effectively as the guys appeared to realize they were standing in a dress store, which was a little more than their delicate machismo cared to handle.

She watched as Euphoria reached down to pick up her wineglass from the table where someone had ordered a charcuterie board. Enchantrix was still seated, sipping from her own glass of wine.

"I thought you two hated each other," Hodge said.

Enchantrix and Euphoria turned to look at each other, both shrugged and both nodded. They clinked their glasses against each other.

"Cheers," Enchantrix said.

"Santé."

Hodge watched as Euphoria left. Bhramari was tagging along with her. The mute superheroine pulled up a list on her iComm that seemed to be a playlist that Bhramari had been working out with the DJ for the party.

Hodge then grimaced as she slapped another mosquito. Of course. She'd stood still for five seconds, so she'd given them an easy target. She had half a mind to go down to the arena and bathe in some flamethrowers and see how much the little bastards enjoyed that.

Though with her luck, they'd only evolve and raise their game so that she was up against super-powered mosquitoes. Might be an improvement, actually.

Her iComm beeped, summoning her to another minor scuffle. Satisfied that things here had calmed down, she moved on to the day's next problem.

She'd barely taken three steps in that direction before her communicator beeped again.

"Yes, boss. Yes, I saw. Yes, it's taken care of. Yes, I'm certain. I know because she was trying on dresses, not enriching uranium..."

With everyone gone, Hissyfit threw herself into the seat that Euphoria had vacated. She was in an exhausted slouch, which made for a funny counterpoint to the elegant dress she was wearing. She noticed the remnants of the charcuterie board next to her and began to chow into it in a less than feminine manner.

"Tough day workin' in the salt mines, eh, young'un?" Vagabond joked.

"Well, I'm proud of you," Trixie said. "You cleared another hurdle." She turned to the two guys. "Gentlemen? What's the verdict?"

Hissy looked up in confusion. "Vurdidt?" she said in a muffled tone, her mouth still full of sliced meat and cheese.

"Oh, this little miss, she got it bad, no dubitation."

"Yeah. Young love," Echelon agreed.

"An' none too shabby, neither," Vagabond added. "For a boy, a'course."

Hissyfit nearly choked on a cracker. She coughed as she forced it down. "You told them?"

Trixie held her hands up in surrender. "Don't blame me. I didn't have to."

She turned to Vagabond. "You knew?"

"Oh, chile. Make no mistake, you're as sugar-sweet as a June bug dipped in honey, but y'all gotta get up pretty early to flimflam these peepers."

"Vee, what are we talkin' about?" Echelon asked, confused.

"She's a boy."

Echelon, still puzzled, glanced between Hissyfit and Enchantrix. His gaze rested on Trixie, and he commented, "Wow, she looks good."

"That ain't—I'll explain to you later."

Hissyfit looked down at herself, then realized how she was slouched in the chair. She belatedly straightened herself up. "Oh, God..." she said, blushing beet red as she thought about all the people she'd been parading around in front of, gleefully trying on one dress after another. "Everybody knew?" she asked plaintively.

"Oh, no. Not a'tall," Vagabond assured her. He waved his hand dismissively. "Don' you pay it no never mind, gumdrop. I got a niece who's trans. I'm tuned to notice. 'Sides, guys are idiots. I'm sure they all jus' thought you was a skanky girl."

"She ain't?" Echelon wondered.

Hissy threw herself back in the chair. "Oh, good. That's so much better."

Machinator, still in one of his analysis drone bodies, turned in his chair. "Ah, Hodge. Excellent. I was just about to call for you. Give me your report."

"Non-violent crime has been stable the last two weeks—"

"Pass."

"I had to break up another fight with the Malefissions—"

"Boys will be boys."

She shrugged sarcastically. "Well, let's see. The island is sinking? A tsunami is coming? Oh, and the Flying Dutchman has been spotted."

"Trifles. Besides, if the island sinks, the tsunami won't be a problem. And if the Flying Dutchman comes to ferry the souls of the dead, we'll charge the guests and call it a ride. Come on, don't keep me in suspense."

"Boss, they're not doing anything. They're...vacationing."

"And the fact that they've split their forces to cover more ground?"

Hodge held out her hands helplessly. "See, you say, 'split their forces,' and I see 'girls being teenagers.'"

"And Prodigy?"

"He's playing cards. Badly."

Machinator leaned back in his chair. "Hodge, do you know what your problem is?"

"Micromanagement."

"Your problem is that you're trained to look for trouble. Or things that will bubble over and become trouble."

"I'm pretty sure that's literally what's written on my job description, yes."

He spun around to the screens, which again lit up with video displays of Prodigy's group. "This is already trouble. No assessment is required. No supposition. No guesswork. It is, as the children say, a flat fact. Now we merely have to figure out why it's trouble."

"Kids don't say that. But even if you're right—"

"Which I am."

"—then what are we supposed to be looking for?"

"Patterns, my dear Hodge. Patterns. Prodigy is cunning, but these children are bound to make mistakes. Tip their hand. Here, take this one, for example."

One of the large screens lit up with Prodigious Girl fighting in the arena against her robot duplicate.

Machinator admired the display. "Mmm. Now those are some pleasing parabolas."

Hodge groaned. "Don't be disgusting."

He looked at her in confusion. "What? I'm not referring to her— The data, Hodge, the data." He pointed at a secondary monitor with a bell curve. "Now that is a fine-ass distribution, if I do say so myself."

"If you say so."

"Hodge, I'm disappointed in you. Thinking I would engage in such base objectification. It's insulting, is what it is."

"Sorry."

"Well, you should be." He then gestured to the monitor. "Besides, if I were to make a joke about her figure in that image, the much more obvious gag would be about naturals versus falsies."

Hodge groaned again. "See, conversations like this are why we need an HR department."

"And precisely why we don't have one," he countered. "But just see what she's providing us. Battle scenarios. Opponent choices. Combat strategies. Win/loss statistics. Here. Look at this. In her last three battles, she configured the arena for a jungle environment and lowered the default humidity setting. Do you know why?"

"I feel like I'm walking into another sexist joke, but...because she was sweaty?"

"She's training. Preparing herself. Prodigy's training facilities are archaic. She's configured the arena for an environment similar to what we have here on the island. She's using our own facilities against us to prepare herself for some key part in their little 'heist.'"

Hodge lacked her boss's love of strategy and tactics, but she wanted more than anything for this conversation to be over. She calculated that was more likely if she just agreed with him.

"Genius," she said flatly. "And yet you saw right through it. Amazing. How do you do it?"

"Well, I am the smart one. Now, first, I believe it's time that we disrupt their plans a little. Prodigious Girl has enjoyed unprecedented access to our arena facilities."

"You want me to kick her out?"

"Not until we know what she's up to." He looked up at the video image of PG fighting her robot duplicate. "Oh, yes, that will do nicely."

"What are you doing?" Hodge asked somewhat uneasily.

"Introducing a bit of unpredictability into their plans. Our young miss has managed to fly beneath the radar up until now, but I just put footage of her battle here on the arena monitors' daily highlight reel. Prurient content, but that should draw some attention."

Hodge looked at the monitor apprehensively. "Those arena bros aren't going to like some pretty little Sidekick in a cheer skirt acting like she belongs down there. This is dangerous."

"I have full confidence in my head of security to manage any impediments that may arise."

Hodge, seeing this as likely her only opportunity to get while the getting was good, excused herself and made for the door.

"I need to update my resume," she muttered to herself.

I slammed into the battle bot with a satisfying crash, driving it against the wall at terrifying speed. I was moving so fast that I'd barely managed to avoid plowing headlong into the wall myself. I paused to hover over the scene of destruction as I caught my breath and wiped the sweat from my brow. I was tired—achy, certainly—but in a good way. This was a workout, and it felt good.

I took a moment to scan the arena, searching for my next target. As I went tearing off after the next flight of flying drones, out of the corner of my eye, I also noticed that I'd apparently picked up a number of onlookers who were watching me from the observation deck. They were metahumans, obviously—we'd bumped into each other in the hallways during the brief rest periods while the arena cleaned and reset itself. At first I thought they were catcalling me, but I distinctly heard a cheer when I walloped a particularly resilient and agile drone, and a couple of sympathetic groans of complaint when its companions returned the favor, sending me crashing into a nearby wall with impressive force.

I had...spectators? I kind of liked the idea, and—look, I'm not proud of this—but I started to showboat a little. I mean, I wasn't the strongest or toughest person there by a long shot, but I was quick and could take a punch.

The disruptor cannon caught me full in the chest and sent me flying backward. But on the plus side, the wall was there to catch me.

Stunned, I fell and hit the floor in time to see the main door to the arena get knocked open from the outside. I'd just had my bell rung, but that got my attention. That was an armored pressure door, closer to a bank vault than a standard exit. And it slammed open with enough force to cause the vibration to reverberate throughout the arena.

And trouble walked in.

The Malefission brothers. Core, Scatter, and Surge. Three glowing villains with radiation-based powers and a lot more powerful than me. Prodigy and I had the misfortune to tussle with these mouth-breathers once before, and it hadn't gone well. I'd managed to land a few good shots, but they'd handed me a pretty solid thrashing, and that was with Prodigy on hand.

On my own? No chance.

My eyes darted up to the observation deck, but it didn't seem like anybody was in a big rush to lend me a hand. I can't say I was surprised. Picking a fight against a trio of villains to bail out a Sidekick they didn't even know would be a foolhardy move. Everybody seemed more content to watch and see how things shook out.

Fine. If I was going down, I was going to give them a show.

"Well, if it isn't Sailor Power Girl," Core said mockingly. "Fuckin' Sidekick's been hogging the arena."

I stood up a little less steadily than I would have liked. But in this case, this was one conflict I'd be glad to avoid. "Sorry," I said, "I didn't realize you'd reserved it. I'll be leaving."

"Yeah, I don't think so, precious. I still owe you a beating from last time, and I intend to collect."

My eyes darted around the space. It was set for a forest environment, and while I had my literal back to the wall, I didn't think any of them could fly. If I could take to the air, I could try to make a break for the door.

But it was weird. They moved closer, confident they had me, but they moved up practically shoulder-to-shoulder. Core was a hand-to-hand brawler, but Scatter and Surge both primarily used ranged attacks. Common sense dictated that they spread out to try to flank me and fence me in. So why weren't they—?

An instant later I got my answer as a brilliant energy effect emanated from all three of them, but then fully entered Surge, who let loose with a blast of energy right at me!

I did a diving dodge to avoid the blast. In my head, I imagined that I would do a capable little tuck-and-roll and then pounce up onto my feet in a fighting position, ready for action. In actuality, my foot slipped, and I slammed straight down on the ground, boobs first. It was still an effective dodge, but I wasn't winning any points for looking tough and capable.

"That's new," I muttered to myself. They hadn't done that last time we'd fought. I recalled that it usually took Surge a second or two to prep one of his blasts, and that one was a good deal more powerful than I remembered. They were able to amplify each other's powers!

I used my flight to lift myself up and hover a few inches off the ground. In combat, I generally liked to stay on the ground as long as I could because guys sometimes forgot that I could fly, and I could use it as a surprise move. But I wasn't going to punch my way out of this. Scatter started to warm up a shot, and I knew I was in trouble. His wide-area blast could fence me in, and one of Surge's high-power blasts could take me down. By the time Core landed his blow to finish me off, I wouldn't know what hit me.

My hand drifted down to my utility belt. Okay. Stay calm. I've got this. Nothing fancy. Drop a couple of stun grenades to disorient them and haul ass for the exit.

And just...hope that they forget they have superpowers.

Yeeeaah.

"Get ready for some real negative energy," Surge taunted.

God, I was gonna get killed by morons.

Just then, the high-pitched shriek of a powerful disruptor blast resounded through the room as someone blasted the ceiling.

"All right, boys, that's enough," a woman's commanding voice came from over by the entrance.

The Malefissions and I all turned to look, and there was a woman standing there. She had broad shoulders and an extremely muscular build, and white hair. She wore a nondescript dark jumpsuit, which oddly served to give her an air of authority since it was such a sharp counterpoint to all the flashy costumes the guests wore. From her bearing, she had 'law enforcement' written all over her.

Hodgepodge. Prodigy's dossiers noted that she was a mostly liquid lifeform, but the way she'd fired her warning shot out of the palm of her hand exposed metal underneath. Right. Using technology to enhance her abilities, like a cyborg.

For a moment I thought about using her distraction to make a run for the door, but apparently Scatter had the same thought and was keeping an eye on me.

"Piss off, Hodgepodge," Surge said.

Calmly and carefully, the woman edged her way around the outside of the room, making her way in my direction. She and the Malefissions were circling each other like predators, but she was being careful not to take any provocative actions.

"Vacate the area, and we won't have any trouble," she said to them. Then she added, "'Vacate' means 'leave.'"

"But we like trouble, Hodge," Core said.

"Then you're going to love spending a few nights in the cooler to think about it. You know the rules. No unauthorized fighting."

"Trust me, sweetie, it won't be any kind of fight."

"Last warning. You leave now, that'll be the end of it. We'll put the cost of the door on your bill."

She'd kept them talking long enough that she'd managed to move over by me, just a few steps ahead, and positioned between me and the Malefissions.

"Stay out of this," she said to me quietly but firmly.

I nodded.

Her hair twinkled with spots of bioluminescence, and three of the aerial drones that I'd been fighting roared back to life and began to run in a sophisticated attack pattern. It took me a moment to realize that Hodge was controlling them somehow, maybe by remote control. The drones attacked the Malefissions, but they were minor nuisances to villains of their power level.

Hodge seemed to come to the same conclusion. She tapped a control on her wrist that looked like an iComm. I heard her say, "Interdiction flyers. Two sonic, two taserweb. Priority Alpha."

Her eyes darted to the opposite wall, to a door from which the drones were deployed. It was still closed. I couldn't hear the message she got back, but I distinctly heard the angry buzzer noise that came back from her iComm.

"Problem?" I asked.

"Apparently your playmates broke something on their way in. Follow my lead. You fought these guys before?"

"Once, with Prodigy. It didn't go so great."

"Anchor the left. Keep them separated."

The explosion of the last drone caught our attention as Scatter's wide-area energy blasts took it down. Like Surge, he was juiced up from their power amplification. If he tagged me at that power level, it could ruin my day. And it occurred to me that I had no idea what Hodge could do. If she was a cyborg, she could be versatile. I knew I had to be prepared for anything.

I was not prepared for an electric space jellyfish in powered armor.

Hodgepodge made the first move against the Malefissions, which caught me a little off-guard. Usually, law enforcement tended to wait for the antagonists to make a move, but of course she wasn't exactly typical law enforcement. I guess she figured that since a scuffle was inevitable, she wanted it resolved as quickly as possible. I wasn't complaining.

She ran right at the trio—damn, she was fast—and fired some kind of kinetic repulsor blasts from her cybernetic palms that targeted Scatter and Surge, who'd taken flanking positions on either side of Core. Or at least that was the plan. She managed to tag Surge square in the chest, and while the beam didn't do much appreciable damage, it sent him flying back thirty feet.

Scatter, unfortunately, was more nimble on his feet and managed to dodge the attack from her other palm. He pulled off the move that I'd failed to do, and tumbled back to his feet, still a little too close to his brother for comfort. But he was on the left, so he was mine.

I closed the distance by flying straight at him, full speed. I'd trained myself to be careful since using my full speed and strength against an opponent could have catastrophic results against a normal man. Unfortunately, I knew he could take it.

Worse, he was quick on the trigger with his arcing scattershot attack, and its unpredictable jinking path made it difficult to dodge. It tagged me in my midsection, and it stung like hell, knocking the wind out of me and interrupting my attack.

Core, however, was absolutely befuddled. What started off as a pretty standard grappling match with Hodge quickly turned weird. At first, she seemed to reel in pain from his energy punches, but the Malefissions didn't expect for her skin to peel off entirely!

Clever, I realized. Hodge normally enveloped the robot body in her living liquid form, but now she'd taken refuge inside the metal body, wearing it like powered armor.

It proved to be an effective tactic because the robot's metal body was not only more resilient, but was also able to absorb a good bit of Core's energy attack, diminishing its effectiveness. Hodge was still taking a pounding, but her tactic had gone a long way to even the odds.

Still, even by superhero standards, it had made for a bizarre scene, so while Core grappled with Hodge's robot body, both Scatter and I had been watching as we tried to figure out what was going on and who was coming out on top. It was a rookie mistake. Situational awareness was one thing, but as Prodigy repeatedly hammered into me, you never want to get distracted in your own fight by what's going on with somebody else. I'd learned that lesson the hard way.

Luckily for me, Scatter was a slower learner than I, and I made sure that he paid for his mistake. I planted my feet and then slammed him with a wicked full-power cross punch straight to the jaw. He went sailing back, and as I pressed the attack, I could hear the "Ooohhh" of approval from the observation gallery. Not that they were doing anything to help, but apparently we were putting on a good show.

I sneaked up behind Scatter and grappled with him, which also gave me a view of the rest of the scene.

Hodge was still trading blows with Core, but I could see that Surge was back on his feet and closing the distance fast and warming up a shot. His attacks took a second or two to warm up, but they packed a punch. I was about to yell out a warning to Hodge when I spotted something strange.

It was barely a glimmer, easy to miss among all the ruckus and energy attacks, but there was a glittering flash of bioluminescence, like electricity. And it was answered by one of the damaged drones from my earlier exercise that took flight and fired a random shot at Surge. Not enough to do any real damage, but enough to distract. Or it would have been, if Surge hadn't destroyed the drone with a casual energy blast.

The glimmer was moving closer to him, but he hadn't seen it yet.

That's when the penny dropped. That glimmer was Hodge.

She'd made it look like she'd taken refuge in the powered armor, but that had been a ruse to distract these guys. In fact, she was controlling the robots remotely with her bioelectric powers. Meanwhile, she'd been using some kind of camouflage ability to sneak around, maybe to mount some kind of surprise attack. Except that Surge had just ruined her diversion. He was going to spot her before she could pull off whatever it was she had planned.

My time to shine.

"Hey!" I yelled out at all three guys as I grappled with Scatter and tried to avoid getting tagged by his energy attacks. "I love the color-coding thing you girls do, but I'm curious why? Does it help out on laundry day when you're trying to figure out whose panties are whose?"

One nice thing about fighting enemies with energy powers is that you can always tell when a taunt lands. Based on how much more brightly their power effects started glowing, I could tell I'd hit the mark.

"I'm gonna burn that smirk off your face, Powerpuff," Surge said. The buildup for his blast was at full power, and he was aiming at me, trying to figure out if he could get a clean shot with me holding onto his brother.

Unfortunately, Scatter saved him the trouble as he released his deadly arcs of energy from ground zero, engulfing us both. I cried out in pain as he wriggled free, giving his brother a clean shot.

In that moment, Hodgepodge popped out of nowhere as she dropped her camouflage field and pounced on Surge in a frenzy of flailing bioluminescent tentacles. It was like being ambushed by a giant trapdoor spider. One which then executed a pretty capable judo throw that slammed him to the ground.

Surge freaked out by being entangled by the unexpected attack, having no idea what was going on. He loosed his energy blast in an ineffective attempt to shake her loose.

Ineffective against Hodge, but effective against Core, because she'd used a tentacle to twist his arm to take careful aim at his brother. Core didn't even know what hit him, and Hodge's robot body made short work of him with some kind of sonic energy projectors that knocked him out. Meanwhile, the robot launched what I recognized as a taserweb grenade at the entangled Surge, stunning him into unconsciousness as well.

Two down, one to go.

Hodge's semi-viscous form appeared to be immune to the electrical attack and released Surge as she easily slipped through the taserweb netting. That was a neat trick.

All this had happened in the span of seconds, and Scatter backed away like a trapped animal as he warily eyed Hodge and me. Meanwhile, as Hodge's robot body stepped closer, her liquid form enveloped it again, taking on the female appearance I'd originally seen her in.

"Stay the fuck back!" Scatter said, clearly wondering if he could take both of us.

Hodge seemed unconcerned. "Fine. But you're done here. I just need you to calm down and listen—"

Unexpectedly, while she was talking, I saw another semi-liquid, tentacled bioluminescent creature pounce on him from behind. It was smaller than the other, but still very clearly Hodge. Or part of her, at least.

Scatter, caught completely unaware, was unable to react in time as the creature's tentacles grabbed his head and neck and then pressed against his temples and blasted him with an electrical attack which caused him to collapse to the ground, unconscious like his two brothers.

Hodge tapped her iComm. "Send in a confinement team, stat. Prepare three cells, energy resistant, as far from each other as possible." As Hodge spoke, I watched as the smaller tentacled creature flowed its way over to her and re-integrated itself with her body.

She turned to look at me. "You okay?"

I pointed at her in a vague up-and-down fashion. "That...creature. Creatures. That was you, wasn't it?" I asked, trying to square the mental image of the tentacled alien against the muscular woman who stood in front of me. I'd encountered shapeshifters before—heck, I was a shapeshifter!—but this one bent my brain.

"Problem?"

"No. No problem. It's just...that was cool. You're...beautiful."

I blushed the instant I said it, and she shook her head at the compliment. Then she slapped her neck and looked around in annoyance.

"In here, too? Really?" she muttered.

"You okay?"

"You're invulnerable, right?"

I nodded.

She sniffed. "I'm gonna get Machinator to invent some armor-piercing mosquitoes so the rest of you can find out what this is like."

Hodge didn't even break stride as she entered Machinator's office. He was busy analyzing data and didn't bother to acknowledge her as he walked in. She was, however, pleased to note that the Tantrum Plant was still sitting on his desk. That was a good sign.

That wasn't its actual name, of course. The small potted plant was a Spathiphyllum, which she'd learned was ironically called a Peace Lily. She'd read somewhere that they were hardy and did well in low light. Not that Machinator or any of his drones ever bothered to water it. That wasn't really its purpose.

The sole purpose of the Tantrum Plant was to give Machinator something to throw when he got particularly frustrated or angry. Thankfully, that didn't happen very often, but the problem was that apart from the extremely expensive equipment in his robotics lab, Machinator's office was entirely digital. The last time he got particularly irate, he'd come out shooting with a particle beam weapon of particularly insidious design. After that, Hodge resolved to make sure he always had something to throw.

This time, however, it was Hodgepodge who found herself eyeing the plant. Unlike her boss, she was a good deal more even-tempered and not given to fits of pique, but smashing him in the head with the fool thing was making for an agreeable mental image.

"When I took this job, I had one condition. Do you remember what it was?" she said in an accusing tone.

"Yes, of course," he said, continuing to work the keyboards and controls. "You didn't want me interfering with your work."

"And yet, you countermanded my order for the interdiction drones."

Machinator finally spun around in his chair to face her. "It's fascinating. I think the mosquitoes and I have something in common. We both think you're thin-skinned," he joked.

"Not funny."

"I'm 89.26% sure that it is. But, as usual, my actions accomplished the goal. I got you an up-close look. What's your assessment of the girl?"

Hodge sighed. "She's young. Inexperienced. Impetuous."

Then, as he continued to maintain his gaze, she relented.

"She's got promise. Prodigy has trained her well. She took direction well and knew when to improvise. She even anticipated my moves, and I'm not easy to anticipate."

"Whatever scheme Prodigy is hatching, I'm convinced she's involved. Is she still in the arena?"

"Yes. And actually, I had a question about that. She—"

"She's gone!"

As Hodge had been talking, Machinator had idly turned his gaze toward his collection of monitors and displays. Many of them were tracking the movements of all of Prodigy's party. But Prodigious Girl was on none of them.

"Impossible!" Machinator said as he frantically raced through all the displays.

"I'm telling you, I left her in the arena not ten minutes ago."

"Well, she's not there now! Ohh, Prodigy, you crafty bastard. He must have given her some kind of cloaking technology. I want a full spectrographic analysis of every frame of surveillance video from when you last saw her until—"

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Machinator and Hodge stopped and stared at each other. Then they both turned to face the closed door to his office.

Knock! Knock!

"Hello?" came PG's voice from the other side.

"Um..." Hodge said.

Machinator leaped out of his seat, practically frantic. In a blink he transferred his consciousness over to his usual "Emcee" host body and raced for his desk to sit down. As he did, the onboard AI of the analysis body he'd just vacated calmly walked to take a position among the other robotic bodies lined up at the side of the room.

Hodge, meanwhile, rushed to put the entire office on lockdown. The myriad computer screens all changed their displays. The majority of them went into screensaver mode, but others displayed disinformation in the hopes that a visitor might catch a glimpse and be led astray.

She'd just finished and hurried to take an appropriately imposing position beside his desk as the shading effect came back off the windows, illuminating the formerly dim room with the warm afternoon sun.

Machinator was holding his Panama hat in his hand and looked at her.

"What do you think? Hat? No hat? Hat?"

"I have literally no idea what's happening right now," she muttered.

"Sss! Sss! Sss!" he hissed at her, flitting his fingers at her as she straightened up and took her position. He tossed his hat onto the desk and then looked to the door, commanding it to admit the young heroine.

As with most first-time visitors, Prodigious Girl was a little confused by the doors since it was an airlock-style setup. The outer door led to a vestibule, and then, once the outer door closed behind her, the inner door opened. It wasn't meant to be flawless, but since Machinator's office was essentially a high-tech robotics lab, it significantly reduced outside contaminants.

"Oh, hi," Prodigious Girl said as she entered. "Sorry to bother you. I just had a couple of things. I hope you're not busy."

Machinator stood up and wandered around to the front of his desk. He was lanky, but also surprisingly tall, a solid foot taller than her. He took a step back and leaned against his desk, trying to look casual.

"Of course, my dear, of course. Mi casa es su casa. I want you to enjoy yourself while you're here."

"Oh. Good. That's good," she said. "See, the thing is, Machinator—"

"Please, I've told you. Call me Emcee."

"Right. Okay. See, the thing is, Emcee, I wanted to talk to you about this bet you've got going with Prodigy."

"Oh, that old thing? Pfft. I've hardly given it a moment's thought," he said.

Hodge's eyes cut over at him.

"Yeah, well, it's really bothering Prodigy. He doesn't know I'm here. He'd be furious with me if he knew."

"It'll be our little secret."

"It's just...I know it's kind of a big ask, but I was hoping maybe we could call it off? It seems like it's causing so much stress."

"Call it off?" Hodge echoed, incredulous.

Prodigious Girl nodded.

"Of course," Machinator responded.

"Of course?" Hodge echoed again, even more incredulous.

"Certainly! My dear, lives aren't on the line. If he wishes to stop, he need only say so."

"You mean concede."

"Well, let's not rush to put labels on things. But yes. That would be the label I would put on it."

Her face fell. "I don't think he's going to go for that."

"Well, then, I fear my hands are tied. You said there was something else?" Machinator asked.

Her eyes cut over to Hodge. "Oh, well, you were there..."

Hodge stepped forward, looking as if she were broaching an uncomfortable subject.

"Prodigious Girl is evidently making a bit of a name for herself among the arena crowd. After seeing her performance against the Malefissions, several people have asked to fight her one-on-one. In sanctioned fights."

"How exciting! And the problem?"

"I'm actually still only a Sidekick," Prodigious Girl interjected. "Apparently there's a rule."

"And you came to me to see if that rule could be bent," Machinator said, nodding understanding. "Well, to me this sounds like a security issue. I've been recently reminded not to interfere in such matters. Hodge, your decision?"

Hodge had always considered herself notoriously difficult to catch off-guard, but the last several minutes had put that self-assessment to the test. Machinator's synthetic features could be difficult to read, but the intense look he was giving her wasn't exactly subtle.

"...Sure?"

"Excellent!" Machinator declared brightly, putting his hand on Prodigious Girl's back as he guided her towards the exit. "My staff at the arena will explain the rules. I should warn you, it's not for the faint of heart and it's not without a modicum of risk, but nothing an adventurous superhero like yourself can't handle. And we take every precaution. We've never lost anyone yet."

"Eeeeh," Hodge said.

"I said 'lost.' Besides, his leg was reattached. Now you go have fun," he said as he ushered the brunette heroine out the door.

As the door slid shut, Hodgepodge turned to her boss. "What exactly did I just agree to?"

"We're gathering data, Ms. Podge," Machinator said as his consciousness slipped over to his analysis chassis.

"I've asked you not to call me that."

"Data is the name of the game," Machinator said as he eased himself back into the control room and the monitors all sprang to life. "Just think of all the information we'll collect. Who she chooses to fight. What parameters she chooses. Who wins, who loses. What environmental conditions she sets. It'll be like having a window into her mind, her every intention laid bare before she can even formulate it herself."

"I'm giddy. And did you believe that nonsense about Prodigy wanting to quit?"

"Not for an instant. Far more likely she wanted to get a look at the office."

"So you showed it to her?"

"It's irrelevant. Prodigy has been in here before. He knows the location, the size, the layout. It's of no use to her." He glanced over his shoulder at her as she headed for the door. "Where are you going?"

"I need to go buy another potted plant. I have a feeling we'll be needing one."

Hissyfit apprehensively looked at herself in the mirror. If she was serious about convincing PG that the two of them should be a couple, that meant PG first had to notice her. Something that was proving to be an intensely nerve-racking experience. It wasn't lost on her that in her first outing as Hissyfit, she'd jumped into battle against a centuries-old body swapper and had scarcely hesitated as she blasted away with a laser rifle, and now this was what gave her butterflies.

But, then as now, she was committed.

"You're sure this is going to work? I feel ridiculous."

"Absolutely," Enchantrix assured her. "You're gorgeous. I'd do you, and I don't even much like you. One look and you'll have Peej eating out of your manicured hand." She peered up at Hissy's hair. "Hm. I'm gonna get more hairspray. Your pigtails are drooping."

As she stepped away, Hissy turned to the side and made a pained face at her reflection.

"Caleb Shapiro, this is the stupidest idea you've ever had, and ever will have," she said to herself.

All the girls on the block knocking at my door
Wanna know what it is make the boys want more

Is your lover playing on your side?
Said he loves ya, but he ain't got time?
Here's the answer, come and get it
At a knocked down price...

Full of honey, just to make him sweet
Crystal-balling, just to help him see...

Poolside sunlight glitters across turquoise water as Trixie arranges Hissyfit in a lounge chair like she's staging a magazine shoot. Hissyfit's pink-and-black bikini is cute—alarmingly cute, actually—and she sits stiffly in it while Trixie fusses over details. At first, she reaches down and fluffs up Hissyfit's pigtails as though she were arranging a potted plant. Then she reaches down and gives Hissy's boobs a similarly familiar fluff. But before Hissy can object, Trixie spots Prodigious Girl coming and teleports to the other side of the pool area so she can watch.

Hissy's face contorts in visible panic as her mind races through all the instructions that Trixie had given her. She leans back carefully with one hand behind her head as she lowers her eyelids slightly and presses her lips into a pout, attempting what she hopes is a sultry pose. Unfortunately, her expression veers into "woman experiencing a minor abdominal emergency."

But for what it's worth, the honey trap is set.

Prodigious Girl's arrival is announced by the boisterous commotion of her four muscular companions, obviously some of the "fight club bros" she's been hanging out with in the battle arena for the last couple of days. They loom around her like overexcited golden retrievers, all competing for her attention while PG laughs at something one of them says.

Hissyfit straightens instinctively as PG heads directly toward her. Closer. Closer—

—and then breezes straight past her without noticing her at all.

Hissy is dumbfounded, still frozen in her ridiculous pose as she feels her soul quietly exit her body.

Trixie, determined to find a way to get PG to stick around, impulsively casts a spell. An instant later, a glittering cascade of magic engulfs Prodigious Girl, replacing her costume with a sexy bikini that somehow still leaves her domino mask perfectly intact.

For one brief, glorious second, Trixie seems smugly satisfied with herself...and then makes a pained face as she realizes the extent of her miscalculation. Because while Hissyfit is cute in swimwear, Prodigious Girl looks like the physical manifestation of every teenage boy's unresolved issues.

The gym bros stare in stunned silence, but the quiet doesn't last very long as it is quickly shattered by the raucous hoots and hollers of the delighted idiots. PG, still caught off-guard, is picked up and carried into the pool even as half the surrounding deck suddenly decides this is now a party.

Water explodes everywhere.

One particularly enormous guy cannonballs into the deep end directly beside Hissyfit, drenching her completely. She lets out a startled squeak as icy water hits her like a chlorinated tsunami.

A moment later she's left sitting there alone, soaked, pigtails hanging limp and bedraggled while behind her Prodigious Girl gets conscripted into an increasingly aggressive game of water volleyball by a swarm of ecstatic muscleheads...

Take a sip from my secret potion, I'll make you fall in love
For a spell that can't be broken, one drop should be enough
Boy, you belong to me, I got the recipe
And it's called black magic...

Vagabond and Echelon's suite is cramped and crowded, and Hissyfit, still in her bikini, tries to make herself inconspicuous sitting over at the kitchen counter. She's nervously eyeing the nearby coffee pot, which looks about ready to bubble over with a pungent liquid that did not entirely seem to be of this good Earth.

Spell books lie open across the table beside glittering vials, bundles of herbs, and ingredients of questionable origin while Trixie and Vagabond labor over the brewing concoction with absolute confidence. Pink smoke erupts dramatically from the coffee pot in the shape of a heart, prompting matching looks of deep satisfaction from both magicians.

Hissyfit, meanwhile, seems increasingly unconvinced.

Without warning, Trixie plucks a hair from Hissyfit's head and drops it into the brew. Another burst of pink smoke rolls upward as the potion settles into a sparkling liquid that is carefully poured into a small glass vial. At a nudge from Trixie, Hissyfit then retrieves a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and a few drops of the potion are placed inside.

And once again, the honey trap is set. More confidently this time.

The group hurries down to the pool just in time as Prodigious Girl is extracting herself from the earlier swimsuit disaster, and from the expression on her face she seems like she might be looking forward to finally getting back to the arena so she can work out a few new aggressions. Fortunately, before she leaves, Hissyfit is able to intercept her and offer her the bottle of water, which PG accepts gratefully.

She drinks the entire thing in one go while Hissyfit watches with huge, hopeful eyes.

Then PG hands back the empty bottle and heads off toward the arena without the slightest indication that anything whatsoever has changed. She nods to Hissy and leaves.

Hissyfit shoulders slump in disappointment so much that her pigtails droop. She watches PG's retreating form and then slowly turns toward the others with a "What the heck?" look on her face.

Over at a nearby table, Trixie and Vagabond have already begun arguing over the dosage. Vagabond repeatedly holds up two fingers while Trixie responds by emphatically doubling the number back at him. Echelon attempts to calm everyone down, but in the process his huge metal hand accidentally smacks the tiny vial off the table, sending it flying.

All four of them freeze as the vial hits the ground with a sharp tink! sound. Miraculously, it doesn't break, but they watch as the stopper pops loose...and the bottle falls into the swimming pool. For just a moment, the sunlight illuminates little pink sparkles that spread lazily through the water.

Time seems to stand still. Then, slowly, every guy in the pool stops and turns to look in the same direction. At Hissyfit. Eyeing her like a pack of hungry wolves, all staring at a very cute little pork chop.

The pigtailed heroine goes pale, and a split second later there's a sudden mad rush of muscular male flesh as a crowd of dripping, musclebound supers race to exit the pool, chasing after Hissy with fervent romantic intent.

Hissyfit shrieks and bolts.

Chaos erupts across the pool deck. Lounge chairs overturn. Some guests back away, not sure what's happening, only to get splashed on by the lovestruck mob and find themselves joining the chase. Wet footprints thunder across the tile while the screaming heroine flees, pursued by a rapidly growing mob of amorous superhumans.

For one stunned moment, Trixie simply watches the catastrophe unfold before realization sinks in.

She's up out of her chair like a shot, diving into a magical portal as she teleports away in a flash to join the chase.

A couple of hours later, Trixie and Hissyfit stagger back into the pool area, both looking exhausted and disheveled from eluding the pursuit. One of Hissyfit's pigtails has come undone, and she's missing a shoe. Trixie's cover-up is half off one shoulder, and she appears to have somehow acquired someone else's sunglasses along the way. They collapse into chairs, and Trixie checks the time and gives a weary thumbs-up, signaling that the danger has passed. Hissyfit leans back, still panting heavily.

Trixie turns her head to note that the pool has been completely drained, and several maintenance drones are furiously scrubbing at the empty basin. Another drone is roping off the area along with a sign that says "POOL CLOSED FOR CLEANING." It stares suspiciously towards Trixie, who responds with an angelic smile before glancing innocently away.

Trixie then looks down at the table and sees a flyer for the 'Super Prom' to take place that evening and gets a slow smile.

If you're looking for Mr. Right
Need that magic to change him overnight
Here's the answer, come and get it
While you still got time...

The Super Prom is packed.

Heroes, villains, sidekicks, washed-up legends, second-chancers, and enthusiastic weirdos of every age crowd the glittering ballroom beneath spinning lights and floating holographic decorations. Couples sway together beneath strands of glowing lights while others pose dramatically for pictures beside the oversized floral arch set up near the dance floor.

Beneath that archway stands Hissyfit, and she is absolutely breathtaking. She's wearing an elaborate gown in her signature black-and-pink colors, and she seems somewhere between a gothic princess and a magical-girl prom queen. Layers of black-and-pink fabric cascade elegantly around her while glittering jewelry catches the shifting lights of the ballroom. Even her pigtails have been painstakingly styled into immaculate spirals.

Her look is absolutely flawless...apart from the expression of panicked social anxiety on her prettily made-up face.

The floral archway is clearly intended for couples looking to take romantic photos, enjoy a slow dance, or just enjoy fairytale memories. Instead, Hissyfit stands there—alone—while an increasingly impatient line forms nearby.

Fortunately, the towering Echelon acts as unofficial security, folding his massive metal arms and silently discouraging anyone from rushing the setup. Every so often someone in line tries to edge forward anyway before taking one look at him and immediately reconsidering their life choices.

Hissyfit's eyes keep cutting over to the far side of the room, where Bhramari and Synthwave are working the DJ booth. Trixie is over there as well, and she's working with Mari, who has used her insect control powers to gather a group of flying insects that are hovering obediently around her. One by one, Trixie enchants each insect with flickering trails of glittering magic until the entire swarm glows softly in luminous shades of pink and gold.

Mari sends the glittering insects over to Hissyfit, and the effect is nothing short of magical. Several people stop to admire the sight as the insects cross the room and dance around Hissy. They spiral around her in intricate, ethereal patterns like living fairy lights, wrapping the lonely heroine in soft, magical radiance until she looks less like a nervous teenager and more like a fairy princess out of a fantasy storybook.

For one brief moment, even Hissyfit seems caught off guard by how beautiful it all is.

Once again, the honey trap is set. (Surely, this time.)

Hissy's face lights up as across the way, she spots Prodigious Girl enter the ballroom. The caped heroine seems exhausted from her arena fights, and her shoulders are slumped slightly as she makes her way inside. She pauses to peer at the crowded dance floor.

Mari immediately signals Synthwave, and the music cuts even as a lone spotlight swings dramatically across the room before settling squarely on Hissyfit beneath the flowered archway. The glowing insects swirl around her, and the lights shimmer softly off her dress. And in the exact center of this breathtaking magical tableau stands Hissyfit herself, frozen in absolute panic, her wide-eyed expression still radiating pure social terror.

The room goes quiet, and people look around, as if realizing that something significant is happening or is about to happen. But apparently nobody seems more confused than Hissyfit herself, whose eyes keep cutting towards the door.

The spotlight swings around in obvious confusion, and it catches a glimpse of PG's blue and purple cape disappearing out the ballroom entrance as she leaves without ever realizing any of this was supposed to involve her.

Under the archway, Hissyfit stares helplessly toward the DJ booth where Trixie and Mari have already begun furiously arguing in emphatic sign language.

Their bickering, unfortunately, causes Mari to lose concentration.

The delicate fairy-light effect begins to take on an extremely different vibe as the uncontrolled swarm begins to dissolve into an angry, chaotic buzzing cloud. Hissy freezes and eyes them warily as the flying insects, apparently all riled up and irate from Trixie's spell, decide to vent their aggressions on the nearest target: Hissyfit.

Hissy screams girlishly and makes a break for the exit while the furious glittering cloud tears after her like magical airborne vengeance. Trixie and Mari turn to look up at the 'ZZZZZZZZZ!!!' sound that zooms after her out the door.

Take a sip from my secret potion, I'll make you fall in love
For a spell that can't be broken, one drop should be enough...

At breakfast in the cafeteria-style restaurant the next morning, Hissyfit finds herself recalling an anxiety-inducing moment from a couple years before. Caleb, as a freshman in high school, had been wandering through the cafeteria at lunch, looking for a place to sit. He'd had the misfortune of pausing just a moment too long while he was standing near the football jocks' table, whereupon they made it extremely clear that he was unwelcome there.

It was a formative memory, if not a pleasant one.

Hissyfit feels her panic rising as she sees that moment replaying itself right before her pretty eyes. Only this time, the jocks are super-strong, shoot laser beams, and some of them are actual supervillains. And she's wearing a pretty little dress.

And yet somehow, in the midst of all this, Prodigious Girl is sitting smack in the middle of it all.

The "fight club" crowd has completely adopted her at this point—a sprawling collection of masked gym bros, powerhouse bruisers, martial artists, and assorted arena junkies who all seem deeply invested in reliving yesterday's fights at maximum volume. One massive guy pantomimes getting punched through a wall while another insists he totally could have taken the hit better. Off to one side, another guy bench presses a vending machine for reasons no one seems to question.

PG laughs helplessly along with the chaos, looking more relaxed than she has all weekend. It's a sharp contrast to Hissyfit, who from across the room stares at the table in mounting horror.

Hissyfit is dressed in a loose, flowing, flowered sundress that practically reeks of girlish femininity. She's adorable, but as she grips her plastic tray with white knuckles, she stares in wide-eyed apprehension at the rambunctious bunch. The amount of testosterone present there is stratospheric. This is a group of musclebound meatheads she wouldn't dream of approaching as a guy, much less when she looks like she's on her way to a garden party to have tea and eat tiny cupcakes while discussing Jane Austen.

Visibly ill at ease and totally ready to bolt, Hissy glances towards a table on the far side of the room where Trixie is sitting to provide moral support. Though as Trixie's eyes cut over to the rambunctious bunch, even she seems to be having second thoughts, but she offers Hissy a somewhat less than enthusiastic thumbs-up and a nervous but supportive smile.

But then a bit of good luck—Hissy notices that the chair next to PG is open! Trying very hard to look natural, Hissy begins making her way toward the table in tiny, careful steps, balancing her tray while mincing nervously through the crowded cafeteria in high heels that suddenly feel approximately six stories tall.

Her mind races as she tries to think what she's going to say. This isn't her crowd, but this will be the closest she's been to PG all weekend. With all these guys, she probably won't be able to get a word in edgewise, but even just being this close will be a win. A shared glance, a touch, anything would be—

—impossible, because at the last second, a huge guy slides casually into the empty seat beside PG.

Hissyfit visibly dies inside even as the guy sees her standing there and gives her an easy wink.

From down at the other end of the table, a massive guy who looks like a refrigerator with eyes beckons to Hissyfit and gestures to the open seat next to him. She sees that would put her several seats down from PG, and she probably can't even see her from there, but it's better than nothing. Hissy totters her way down there, still carefully balancing her tray. Unfortunately, when she gets there, she sees that the guy is so big that the seating is narrow, and the lunkhead is obliviously carrying on with some story.

She's just about to squeak out an "excuse me" to get his attention when he accompanies his story with an expansive, sweeping arm gesture. His elbow slams forcefully into Hissy's tray.

Breakfast detonates. Eggs, syrup, fruit, two different kinds of juice. Everything splashes across Hissyfit's chest and skirt in one horrifying instant.

The giant guy recoils in alarm, immediately apologetic, but half the table has already started snickering while Hissyfit sits frozen in absolute humiliation, the front of her sundress positively drenched with dripping syrup and orange juice.

Fortunately, PG appears not to have noticed. Unfortunately, literally everyone else has.

Hissy is mortified as she looks down at the sticky mess. The honey trap is set, she ruefully thinks to herself.

Then she freezes as she hears an all-too-familiar noise getting louder.

"ZZZZZZZZZ!!!" comes the glitterswarm of flying insects as it swoops in, speeding in out of nowhere as it descends on her, causing her to scream and run for cover.

Boy, you belong to me, I got the recipe
And it's called, and it's called, and it's called black magic...

Hissyfit sighs and takes a deep, cleansing breath as she spots PG crossing the wide atrium. This time, Hissy is holding a pair of sparkling strawberry smoothies. She smiles and takes a hopeful step.

Then she pauses and looks down at the smoothies. Sparkling.

Would this constitute a honey tr—?

"ZZZZZZZZZ!!!"

"AAAAAHHH!!!"

Falling in love...
Falling in love...
Oh, falling in love...
Falling in love...
Mag-i-i-ic...

Not to brag, but I was doing pretty awesome. I kind of wished the others could see, but I'd hardly seen them since we got here. Smashing drones was great and all, but fighting living opponents in one-on-one fights? That was something else.

Well, they weren't precisely living. I mean, my opponents were alive, but—

I should explain.

Superhuman fights were always chaotic and could frequently be lethal, especially if tempers ran high. And nobody likes to lose. Combine those facts, and what starts off as a good-natured sparring match could soon boil over and lay waste to the entire island if you weren't careful.

Say what you will about Machinator, he was careful.

His solution had been to create what he referred to as "telepresence combat." Because he could create robots that mimicked metahuman powers (and even our appearances, with a bit of holographic trickery), the solution was clever. The arena fashioned robot duplicates of the two combatants, and from two separate arenas, each combatant fought the other's duplicate. Meanwhile, Machinator's computers had each duplicate mimic the moves that their combatant was using in the opposing arena.

Basically, think of Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots. Except the robots are real. And the robots have super powers. Also, the opposing robot is allowed to punch you, personally. And you can punch him back. And when you do, it hurts the other guy.

...

Okay, it's nothing like Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots. I don't know why I said that. My point is, we fought through robotic proxies.

Was it perfect? No. But...it was a decent approximation. It also provided the combatants with a way to save face if they lost. I'd learned it was a running joke to blame "lag" for a loss, if a robot warrior didn't duplicate a move quite as quickly as its combatant.

It was also an interesting way of handling power scaling. I was just a Sidekick, and maybe not as powerful as the guys I was fighting. So, to make it a more fair fight, they could make the robot duplicate of me more powerful so the other guy got punched harder than I was normally capable of. Meanwhile, they could tone down the other guy's powers on his robot duplicate, so it hurt me less. It was less "accurate," but it was a much better fight. And it let me fight above my weight class.

Up against these bruisers, my biggest problem was that my powers were fairly straightforward. In other words, I basically just punch things.

And I'm tough. And I can also fly. My utility belt has a couple of surprises. And I wasn't above using my appearance to get an edge. The cells of The Pen had more than one guy who thought I was going to be a pushover based on how I looked.

But at the end of the day, my every tactical plan, my every cheap trick, my every distraction ended with one single goal: my fist making contact with their face.

Predictability is not a great thing in superhero fights.

However, I had a special tool in my arsenal: sarcastic wit.

Superheroes and supervillains had massive egos, and just as the Malefissions had learned, a sassy put-down from a teenage girl can provide a distraction at an opportune moment. Unfortunately, the more fights I was in, the quicker people figured out what I was up to.

It did have an unusual side effect, though. It made me...popular. Once people saw me skewering my opponents with snappy put-downs and funny insults, they actually started requesting me just so I would roast them.

I'd gone from being a superheroine to being Triumph, the Insult Comic Dog.

And you know what? I was okay with it. I had short arms. Anything that got me within punching range was fair game. One villain I fought was laughing so hard at a snarky insult I made that I was able to sneak in and lay him out with a haymaker.

Now, let me be very clear on this point before you overestimate my abilities. I was getting my ass kicked. Badly. I lost more fights than I won, and the leaderboard was in no danger of making room for my name.

But they loved it. A teenage Sidekick who talked trash and occasionally landed a solid punch on one of their friends (or enemies!) was fantastic. I harbored no illusions—I was not their friend and not operating at most of their levels—in fact, I think most of them regarded me like I was a toy poodle dressed up in people clothes and walking around on its hind legs.

And then this toy poodle would land a lucky shot, and I'd see the looks of disbelief on their faces as they saw me differently. And you know what? Just for a second, it felt pretty good.

"There she is!" Omerta said, slapping me on the shoulder in a familiar way as I emerged from the arena. "You're making me a lot of money today, kid."

I didn't know a lot about Omerta, but I knew that he was an assassin with mob connections. He was a supervillain, I was sure of that much. (He was dressed mostly in black and had a white skull motif for his mask, just in case there was any question.)

I winced at the contact with my shoulder, even as I quietly healed myself. My shapeshifting ability was limited, but I'd learned I could use it to heal myself to some extent, and that power was getting a workout today. So, instead of transforming back into Chris, I concentrated on shifting into my baseline PG form. It wasn't perfect, but it certainly helped with the aches and pains. And as long as I stuck to healing parts of my body hidden by my costume, I didn't need to advertise my ability.

"I lost that fight. You're betting against me?" I said.

"Wouldn't dream of it. But you covered the spread. Lasting five minutes against Rampage isn't easy. Plus, I got a bonus because all your limbs are still attached."

I groaned as I rubbed my aching shoulder, from where the hulking monster had nearly yanked my arm out of its socket. "Swell. Glad I'm doing my part to help fund the world crime syndicate."

"Ha! You're all right, kid."

There were six or eight supers arrayed in front of me. I felt like ten miles of bad road, but I wasn't about to give up now. "Okay...which one of you is next?" I said. My voice had a slightly tremulous quaver to it, so it wasn't quite as confident as I'd hoped, but I think I got the point across.

In fact, I was certain I had. To my surprise, the group got a little wide-eyed, and even backed away from me slowly.

Ha! Yeah, that's right. Show the Sidekick some respect for a change, you jerks. You'd better—

You'd better—

Oh, dear God, what was that smell?

I belatedly realized that the other supers weren't looking at me as they edged backwards. They were looking behind me. Behind me, and down.

I turned around to see a small, three-foot-tall anthropomorphic skunk. He was standing on his hind legs, and he wore what seemed like a magician's robe and a cape with a high collar.

And then there was...the smell.

"Hola, senorita," he said to me. "I...am Smellcaster."

"Uh oh," I said.

As the door to Machinator's office slid open, Hodge paused to let the Tantrum Plant sail past her and crash to the floor outside.

"Fine, thanks. How's your day going?" she deadpanned as she entered.

"He's mocking me! Mocking! Me! Him!"

"I'm gonna take a flyer and assume we're still talking about your girlfriend there."

"Look at this! Look at this!" Machinator insisted as he pointed to a bank of screens. Hodge wasn't much of an expert on probabilistic modeling, but she guessed they weren't meant to turn into a chaotic mess of squiggly lines over towards the right side of the graph.

"I have mapped the patterns and movements of all of Prodigy's team, and there's no correlation. None!"

Hodge studied a monitor which showed Hissyfit screaming and running across the screen, being chased by a swarm of insects.

"Ah, dammit!" she said as she swatted her own airborne pest. "I can empathize, kid," she muttered to herself. Then she turned to her agitated boss. "Have you considered the possibility that they're just being kids?"

"Have I— Have I—" Machinator sputtered. "I have considered every possibility. Here, look at this. Look at this." He gestured towards a display and pulled up a video of Prodigy playing cards. "What do you see?"

"He's an idiot. You should never draw to an inside straight."

"Which is why I ran all of his plays through a decryption algorithm. I assigned weighted values that accounted for all of his draws, discards, raises, and folds, and I performed a cipher analysis to determine if he was passing coded messages to other players. Do you know what I discovered?"

"Nothing, because he's just playing cards?"

Machinator looked straight at her and, while still maintaining eye contact, he reached over and pressed a key on the keyboard. In large letters, the screen read: BITE ME METALDICK

"Heh," Hodge chuckled, belatedly trying to cover it with a cough. "Fine, the point is conceded. He's messing with you. This was while playing poker? God, what must that have cost him?"

"One hundred sixty-seven thousand three hundred twenty-two dollars."

"Must be nice to be rich. What's your point?"

"My point is that I—that we—have no idea what he's up to. It's...well, it's rather exhilarating, is what it is. This is by far the best play he's ever made."

He tilted his head, and a number of images and videos of Prodigious Girl appeared, most of them fighting in the arena.

"This is the one I keep coming back to. There are patterns to her matches. To her wins and losses. The environments and scenarios she chooses. And she's not as clever as her mentor. She's clearly training for something. If there's a play, I'm betting it'll come from her. She's preparing for something. Infiltration. Exfiltration. Something."

"Huh," Hodge murmured. Rather than reach down past her boss, her skin and hair glittered in the dim light as she used her bioelectric powers to remotely operate the displays. On a few of the screens, Hissyfit was plainly visible.

"Ugh, that one. Likely meant to be a distraction, what with all of her..." He fumbled for the word.

"Shenanigans?" Hodge offered. "So why don't we use that to our benefit?"

"An intriguing notion. Hodge, I fear that you may be in danger of possibly earning your paycheck this month. Pray continue."

"You're assuming everything she's been doing is all a ploy, but what if it's actually on the level?"

"...and the danger abates."

"I'm serious," Hodge said. "Hissyfit has been chasing Prodigious Girl around like a—well, like a lovesick teenager—all weekend. Unsuccessfully. Spectacularly unsuccessfully. But what if we help her?"

"To what possible end?"

"Boss, they're teenagers. If you're right, and Prodigious Girl is the key to Prodigy's plan, then distracting both of them can only be good for us. We'd be removing two of his pieces from the board. No way that helps him. And if we use a soft touch, it won't look like we're cheating."

Machinator got up from his seat and draped his hands behind him as he strode around the office. "Intriguing. Your plan has merit."

"Thank you."

"But as usual, you're not thinking big enough."

She groaned. "Here we go."

"You seem to know teenage girls better than I do," he said with a small shudder. "Make whatever arrangements you think appropriate. But then...perhaps a romantic evening excursion to Veilwater Falls?"

Hodge straightened up. "...Don't."

"You said it yourself. This removes two of Prodigy's pieces from the board. There's nothing to be gained by half measures."

Machinator turned his head towards the bank of screens, and Hodge noticed that the colorful probability models displayed there had calmed down significantly.

"Make sure it can't be traced back to us," he said.

Hodge nodded slowly and turned to leave. As she did, she cast an eye at the line of robot bodies along the wall.

She pointed over at one of the units with her thumb. "Hey, would it be okay if I borrowed Marilyn?" she asked, indicating a curvaceous female bot.

Machinator's synthetic face fell into a pout. "I was going to wear that one," he complained pettishly.

Hodge gave him a deadpan look. She hated when he got like this. It made her feel like she was asking to borrow a dress.

"Fine," he conceded. "Honestly, I give and I give," he said before returning his attention to the computer displays.

Back in the bar, Enchantrix sat sipping her drink as Hissyfit sat across from her, slumped over and slowly pounding her head against the table. Repeatedly.

Trixie watched Hissy's pigtails bounce as the teen groaned. A small buzzing insect flew past their table, and Hissyfit straightened up like a shot and looked around nervously.

"Have you considered the possibility that you're under some kind of curse?" Trixie asked helpfully. "Ooh. Or maybe I'm under a curse. Mmm. No, no, it's definitely you," she decided.

She leaned closer to the dejected brunette and lowered her voice. "Look. Here's the deal. I wasn't going to do this, but I can call in some favors and get an actual Cupid to show up. He's legit. He's got a face like a cherub, but he's freaking Robin Hood with that bow. I can have him here in two hours—"

"Enough! Enough. No mas," she said, standing up. "It wasn't meant to be."

Trixie stood up as well. "Sorry it didn't work. But you can try again when we get home. If you want, I'll even turn you into a girl again," she said with a smile.

"I feel like my parents would notice."

"Well, if you change your mind."

"Thanks anyway for trying," Hissy sighed.

Trixie scrunched up her face. "Okay, don't read anything into this," she said as she reached over and gave Hissy a hug.

As they parted, Trixie said, "I still don't really like you."

"Samesies," Hissy replied as they exchanged a fist bump.

Trixie took a few steps and then turned around. "Oh. Friendly advice. If you're planning on getting drunk in that body, let me know. As hilarious as I'd find it for you to get hammered and wake up in bed next to some strange guy tomorrow morning, Peej would probably give me grief about it, and that's drama I don't need."

Hissyfit wandered over to one of the huge curved windows that looked out across the narrow strip of beach and the ocean beyond. With the palm trees and the sun glittering on the water, it might have been a postcard picture. At the thought, she sighed heavily and wondered if Parley Key sold souvenirs. Once she got back home, she couldn't imagine when she'd have a chance to wear a t-shirt that said, "I Went to Parley Key and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt" (at least not without blowing everyone's secret identities), but she was mopey enough that it felt about right.

"Now zere is ze face of a girl who has ze love zat is...non partagé?" a familiar voice came.

"Unrequited," Hissyfit guessed.

Euphoria nodded.

"C'est dommage. You make a cute couple."

Hissy scoffed. "I'm surprised you noticed. Peej and I have hardly been in the same room all weekend."

Euphoria shrugged. "So? Go to her."

"It's not that simple. She's—" She paused. "She and I are— We're in different worlds."

"Ohh," Euphoria said, smiling in understanding. "Ze problem is not that you want to see her. You wish her to see you."

"Y-Yes," Hissyfit said. "I'd hoped that this weekend she might see me as...more than we are back home. I don't want to trick her or anything, I just..."

"You wish her to see ze...potentielle?"

"Yes. Exactly."

"Fortune smiles upon you, for I am ze expert in such matters."

Hissyfit stiffened up. "Uh, yeah, I've had kind of rotten luck with 'helpers'—"

"You fail because you make it...mmm, ze word..." She waggled her hand back and forth.

"Overcomplicated."

"Oui. Très certainement. Dinner. Zat is what you need. You. Her. A romantic ambience. I will make arrangements. And you will go to the spa and make yourself beautiful, and wear that dress I liked on you. The slinky one."

"I don't know..."

Euphoria rolled her eyes dramatically. "Very well. I will give you all of my secrets. I don't know why!" she said. Then she spoke in a more confidential tone. "My first visit here, I too fell in love."

"You did?"

"Oui. I was...réticente, but the place he took me—" she placed her hand over her heart, "—magical. There is no other word for it."

"It's beautiful?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Of course. But more important..." She paused. "You have experienced the dreams here, yes?"

Hissy nodded.

Euphoria's eyes flitted around the space. "This place. It is not like other places. Zis is not...Aruba," she said disdainfully. "This is Parley. There are places on zis island of magic, of wonder, of...connection. When you wish someone to see your—" She fumbled with the phrase.

"Point of view," Hissy said.

"Oui. Point of view. But now, my dear Hissyfit, the question is, what are you prepared to do?"

Hissyfit bit her lip as she thought. When she realized she was doing it, she thought it was funny. That was an affectation that Chris had picked up as both Prodigious Girl and Christie, but she'd never seen the male Chris do.

"I think...dinner," she decided. "Just dinner."

"Oui. A romantic dinner. With you—ze phrase—'dressed to kill'? Sun, sand, waves...you will be irresistible."

Hissy gulped. "I'm not sure I'm ready for all that."

Euphoria's lips pressed into a predatory grin. "Good. Then she won't be ready to see you like that, either."

Hissy stood up and headed for the spa, as behind her 'Euphoria' watched her departure intently. A ray of sunlight shone through the window, and as it caught her hair just at the right angle, for a moment it took on a bioluminescent blue glow.

You ever misread a situation?

I'd gotten a message on my iComm to come to dinner, and since it was our last night and the gang and I had mostly been doing our separate things, that sounded like a great idea. Though since I'd been eating on the run or living on cafeteria-style food for the previous few days, I just assumed we'd grab a bite together at some fast-casual sandwich shack and sit outside somewhere.

I feel like this is an important thing to note, as it might help explain what happened...

I was almost half an hour late by the time I arrived at "Parlez," the restaurant where we were scheduled to meet. I was so late that I didn't want to take the time to get cleaned up, so I looked like hell. I was still wearing my regular superhero costume, but I was banged up and dirty from my fight with Smellcaster, my hair disheveled...and then there was the issue of the rather pungent stench.

"Good evening, how may I—" the robot maitre d' stopped short when he saw me. "—help you?"

The restaurant caught me equally off-guard. It was nice. Like, really nice. White tablecloths and everything. I saw a couple people in superhero costumes, but while several still wore masks to protect their identity, for the most part they were dressed up.

"Huh," I said. "Yeah, I'm meeting my friends here for dinner."

"Out of the question," the maitre d' said flatly. "Young woman, Parlez is not some burger shack. We specialize in elegant dining. We tolerate...costumes...but we still have a dress code. To say nothing of a prohibition against air pollution violations."

In fairness, he wasn't being unreasonable. But I'd spent much of the previous three days smashing robot drones tougher than this guy into their component pieces. I was thinking one more wouldn't matter.

"Look, friend—" I began.

That's when I realized he was frozen in place. At least he was for a few seconds.

"Forgive me. I see that my records were in error. Your party is already here. Please follow me to your table."

Huh. Weird. My paranoia level ticked up a notch, and for a minute I wondered what had changed. If something like this had happened down in the arena, I might have thought that Machinator intervened, but I couldn't think of a reason for him to help me out at dinner.

We walked to the table, and several people gagged from the smell as I walked past. Which, okay, sorry. You should try being on the receiving end of a stanknado from a three-foot-tall skunk wizard and see how it works out for you.

We rounded the corner to the outdoor balcony. The view was absolutely stunning. The sun was low on the horizon, and its light glittered off the glistening waves. It was breathtaking.

Oh, hey, and Hissyfit was there. She was sitting by herself at a table for two that was off by itself, perfect for talking privately. I guessed the others stood us up? Rats. And to my surprise, she was wearing what looked like an expensive off-the-shoulder red evening gown. Whoof. She couldn't have been too happy about that. If that was the dress code at this place, I can't say I'm sorry I missed out. I almost opened my mouth to tease her about it, but I figured she was probably feeling self-conscious enough as it was, so I kept my mouth shut.

"Just the two of us, huh?" I asked as I plopped myself down in the seat across from her. Her face grimaced as she caught wind of the smell, but fortunately the ocean breeze had me mostly downwind. She didn't even have time to respond before two robotic drones set up a pair of noisy box fans on the floor near me and blasted them in my direction.

"Wow. You look..." Hissy began, then trailed off, apparently at a loss for words.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. My fight in the arena ran long, and I didn't have time to get cleaned up."

She took a sip of wine from her glass. That caught me a little by surprise, but when in Rome, I guess. She did seem a little testy. I stuck with water.

"You've been down there a lot," she said. "I'd kind of hoped we'd get to spend more time together."

"Yeah, sorry. We knew it'd be kind of a working trip. Besides, what were we going to do? Sit by the pool along with Trixie working on our tans while the guys stared at us? Go build sandcastles on the beach?"

I was joking, but she didn't seem to think it was all that terribly funny. Jeez, she was grouchy.

"But the arena really is something else," I said, changing the subject. "Turns out I'm pretty good at it."

"Really."

"Oh, yeah! See, everybody thinks it's about raw strength, but it's really more about mobility and the environment. Like, one time I'm fighting this guy with fire powers..."

We ordered food. The food came. During all this time, Hissy was kind of quiet, so I worked to fill the conversational gaps. Fortunately, I was quite the gifted raconteur.

"...so I'm like, Pow! And he's like, 'Whaaaat?' And I'm like, 'Yeah, that just happened!" And then he's like—"

"Okay!" she interjected before softening her tone. "Can we maybe talk about something else?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure."

It took us a few minutes, but we kind of got to talking. Actually talking. About all sorts of things. Hissyfit brightened up and started joking. It hit me that we were palling around as Chris and Caleb. Well, mostly.

I gave her kind of an impish smile. "This isn't weird, is it?" I asked.

For the briefest of moments, a shadow crossed her features and then disappeared. "Why would it be weird?" she asked as she took a bite of her food.

"I mean, it's good. But I mean you and me, talking like this and both of us being...y'know, girly."

"No. I don't think it's weird."

"Oh. Well, y'know, good for you. Plus, I gotta say, you're being a real trooper about the whole thing. You're handling it better than I would in your place."

"You are in my place," Hissy reminded me.

"Ha, guess so," I said as I took another bite of my food. "Still, I am counting the days before the end of summer and I can ditch all that crossdressing nonsense and go back to normal. I spend enough time in skirts as Prodigious Girl."

"Yeah, you said. I'm curious, Chris. How exactly do you see that working?"

"I told you before."

"No, I asked you before. You didn't answer me."

I scoffed. "It's not complicated. I see it working by not doing it anymore. I'm not trans. Mom and Dad just thought I was when they found my stash of girls' clothes as PG. All this Christie nonsense was their way to let me 'live my truth' and experiment with what it might be like to live that way. Experiment over," I said with a swipe of my hand, like I was sweeping the idea into a trash bin.

"That's what you're gonna tell them."

"Basically, sure. Y'know, 'Thanks for the opportunity. It's not for me. Back to pants.'"

She nodded. "You're going to tell them you're not trans. You're just...what, a closeted crossdresser who got caught with a bunch of girls' clothes, and now having worn them in front of everyone, you'd much prefer to go back into the closet. Is that the lie you're going with?"

Hissy didn't know it, but although she didn't look the part, she was doing a phenomenal impression of my mother. I flashed back to my mom's accusatory words and glares that fateful day when she discovered all the clothes, and I wove one lie after another until I painted myself into a corner where my only recourse was to pretend I was trans. I wasn't proud of that moment—for a lot of reasons—but Hissy was dredging these feelings up like a professional.

"Why are you acting so weird about this?" I challenged. "This is a good thing! Things go back to the way things were!"

"When you're only occasionally running around as a girl." Then, before I could respond, she added, "What does Leah think?"

"We...haven't specifically discussed it."

"She's dating you as a girl. Don't you think she might have an opinion about this?"

"She's seen me as a guy plenty of times."

"Sure. At school. Before. Remind me again when she started showing interest in you?"

"I don't know! Okay, I don't know. I don't know how any of it is going to work. I don't know what to tell my family, I don't know what to tell my friends. I don't know what school will be like in the fall after everybody knows I've spent months dressed as a girl. My grandmother literally took me aside last month and told me she's willing to pay for my surgeries to become the woman I was meant to be. I'm not sure how to start that conversation that doesn't involve the words, 'Haha, only kidding!' And my job—God, they've never known me as anything but a girl. There's a fun conversation with HR."

I shook my head ruefully and looked to the heavens. "And the cherry on top is that my friends think I want to be a girl so bad that they thought they were doing me a favor by turning my favorite character into a girl by a goddamn kangaroo."

Hissy said nothing, but simply continued to stare at me. Judgingly.

I sat back in my chair. "I'm not blind, okay? I see the trap I made for myself. No. Check that. I didn't make it for myself. I happily enlisted the help of absolutely everybody around me. I managed to make my problem into everybody's problem. But the part I don't get, the part I can't figure out, is why the penance for my mistake is that I have to be a woman for the rest of my life rather than make people around me uncomfortable. Is that what you think I should do?"

She sighed heavily. "Chris, having walked a mile in your high heels, I can honestly say that I'll be glad to put on sneakers and never look back."

"Right? Thank you."

"But you didn't just change you, you changed everyone around you. Don't you think you also have an obligation to them?"

Oh, she did not just go there.

"Caleb," I said tightly. "I think my entire life has been about obligation since the day I put on this mask. You wouldn't understand."

She gave me a look that was positively glacial. She blinked quickly, and for a second I thought she might cry before she forced a pained smile. "You're right. How could I?" She then stood up and threw her napkin on the table. As I watched, dumbfounded, she picked up her purse and stormed away from the table.

"Ca— Hissy!" I called after her.

I had no idea what just happened.

From across the restaurant, a woman in a mask sat dining by herself. She didn't resemble anyone in particular, and in fact could have been almost anyone. She was seated close to one of the walls with her back to the wall, affording her a commanding view of the entire restaurant. And one table on the balcony in particular. She'd been sitting there for some time, discreetly tapping away on a tablet computer, but she hadn't touched her food.

Her eyes flitted upwards as Hissyfit stood up brusquely and stormed across the restaurant, tracking the young woman's progress like a bird of prey watching a field mouse. For not the first time, she wished they could have more extensive surveillance at Parley. She would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation.

However, her thoughts were interrupted as one of the waiter bots placed a slice of pie a la mode in front of her.

"I didn't order this," she said.

"Ah, but humble pie is always on the house," Machinator said.

Hodgepodge sighed heavily. "It was worth a shot."

"A heroic attempt, if you'll pardon the pun. We tried it your way, Hodge. Now we do it my way."

Hodge picked up her tablet and stood up. "This is going to blow up in your face."

"No more half measures. See to it."

I hung around barely long enough to make sure that the meal was placed on Prodigy's tab—he owed me that much—but then by the time I emerged from the restaurant, Hissy was nowhere to be seen. I looked around for her, but I pretty quickly got the message that she didn't want to see me.

Which at the moment was probably just as well, because I had no idea what it was that I'd done.

I kept replaying the evening in my mind. Hissy was angry with me, but I didn't know why. Okay, I was late, and I was a mess, but she seemed to understand. And then I talked about myself for too long, but then we got into a nice conversation that felt...comfortable.

Then she started needling me again about my plans to go back to being Chris again. And I guess I blew up a little at that, but she was the one who kept bringing it up. And I never said anything accusatory about her in all that.

I got that Hissy was under a lot of stress and having to deal with being a girl all weekend—welcome to the club, sister—but this wasn't some diffused frustration. She was angry with me.

I felt terrible. I knew that whatever this was would blow over—Caleb and I argued, but we always made up afterwards—but this felt different.

"Fuuuuck."

I turned and noticed a digital information kiosk just across the atrium.

"Welcome to Parley Key! How may I help you?" the machine asked.

"Show me where to find the Turing Salon."

The hallways were pretty quiet at this time of the evening, especially in this part of the hotel, which seemed more set up for conventions or small social gatherings. It hit me that I'd hardly even been in the hotel part of the building all weekend, since I'd been spending so much time in the battle arenas. The last time I'd been in a hotel this nice had been when Caleb and I had gone to a comic and pop culture convention that had a bunch of people wandering around in cosplay.

So, not all that different, really.

I rounded a corner and saw a plaque on the wall directing me to the Turing Salon. I wasn't even sure Prodigy was going to still be there, but I had to—

"Oh, you fucked up now, asshole. You come after me and mine, and thought there wouldn't be consequences? You've got seconds to live, and you're too dumb to know it."

Holy shit, that was Prodigy's voice! The door to the salon was ajar, and I could hear him clearly. I moved closer to the wall and edged forward.

"I don't care how many of you there are. We made plans. Contingencies. Maybe you kill me here, but no way you live long enough to enjoy it."

My mind raced. Unsanctioned fighting wasn't allowed at Parley, but this sure as hell wasn't any poker game. Was this Machinator, making his move? I didn't know, but I was out of time.

I took a breath. I needed to move, and quickly. I rushed in, ready to make my move and hopefully catch whoever it was by surprise. But just as I began my dash and committed to the charge, I heard:

"We flooded the valley! The Goblin Kingdom dug their own graves!"

Wait, what?

I burst into the room and skidded to a halt as I saw six or eight supers all sitting around a table, conference-room style. The guy on the far end was sitting with a stand-up folding paper screen in front of him, and in the middle of the table was a large map covered with small figurines. Everybody had papers on the table in front of them. And dice. Also, drinks and snacks.

And everybody was staring at me.

I was at a loss for words, and my mouth opened and closed mutely.

"Does that belong to anybody?" a woman with two short devil horns said gruffly, looking at me.

I turned to make eye contact with Prodigy, who I saw sitting at the table. He put down his character sheet and let out a groan of complaint.

"I'll be right back," he said as he stood up and walked over.

I was still trying to process what I was seeing as he ushered me out the door, and I kept looking over my shoulder at the tabletop game they had going.

"Are you playing D&D?" I asked incredulously as he closed the door halfway behind us.

"You're not supposed to be here. We agreed no contact. This only draws attention," he chided me.

I was so totally befuddled that it took me a second to realize he was talking about the heist.

"Is there a problem?" he pressed.

"Not...with that. I need your advice on something."

"I have full confidence. Just use your best judgment."

Wow, he really was in a hurry to get rid of me.

"It's not that," I said. "It's just..." I didn't really have the words, and I felt a stirring of emotion well up within me. I really needed someone to talk to.

"Oh, hell," Prodigy said, reading my face. "This is some teenage bullshit, isn't it?"

I nodded.

He didn't say anything at first, but he had the demeanor of someone doing calculations in his head to determine the shortest possible route through a maze.

"All right," he decided. He gestured to a pair of chairs that were side-by-side in the hallway against the wall. The two of us sat down.

"Hissyfit and I had a fight. At least, I think we did."

"What do you mean, 'you think you did'? Either you did or you didn't."

"That's just it. I know she's angry at me, but I don't know what I did."

"Jesus wept," Prodigy muttered. "I mean, 'Go on.'"

So I started to tell him about what happened at dinner. But I'd barely started before he stood up and crossed to the opposite side of the hallway and then turned to face me as he leaned back against the wall.

"I'm not done," I said.

"It's for the smell."

"Oh, right."

He crossed his arms as I continued the story, but a couple of times he smiled knowingly, like he knew what was going on.

After I finished, for a long moment Prodigy stood there quietly, clearly trying to think of the right words to bring me some comfort. I knew that he was never the most empathetic of men, nor was he especially articulate in matters having to do with feelings. But I appreciated that he was taking the time to make the effort. He—

He was trying to listen in on what was going on in the other room.

"Prodigy!"

"All right. Okay. Sorry. Look, kid, you're obviously hurting. And I need you in peak shape if we're going to beat Machinator."

"Oh, my God!"

He sighed. "Listen, I don't know exactly what land mine it was that you stepped on. But I know exactly what's going on."

"You do?"

"Oh, yeah. Demi and I used to fight like cats when we were married. And after. And...before, come to think of it," he mused. "Anyway, you know that whole thing when your mom is like, 'I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed'?"

"Ugh, I hate that one."

"Yeah, this is the grown-up version of that." He nodded. "Kid, if somebody storms out of dinner that dramatically, it usually means one of two things. Either you insulted them...or they cared what you thought in the first place."

He walked over and placed his hand on my shoulder. Then he moved it to my other shoulder, and then back to the first. Like he was knighting me.

"Congratulations. You just had your very first fight with a woman. You may still be a girl, but today, you are a man."

From the other room, a woman's voice called, "I'm rolling for your character!"

"Bullshit, you are!" Prodigy yelled back, rushing back inside.

"I am so sorry."

The voice caught Hissyfit by surprise. She'd been crying and thought she'd found a sufficiently private place to sit where she could be alone. Not that any such place seemed to exist on this island.

Hissy looked over at Euphoria. If anything, she was even more stunning than usual, and her bright blonde hair was practically luminescent in the dim light. She was wearing an elaborate evening dress, clearly ready for some party or social function.

Hissy wiped her face. "What are you apologizing for? You didn't do anything wrong."

"And yet my advice failed you, a young woman who is so obviously in love."

Hissy laughed ruefully. "Yeah, well, trust me, you're not seeing the whole picture."

Euphoria sat down next to her, their knees practically touching. "Tell me."

Hissyfit stammered, at a loss for words. "This was a mistake. I was being dumb. Peej and I are—God, we're not in different worlds, we're in different universes." She gestured around them. "All this? This is her world, not mine. I don't belong here. I don't even—" Her voice trailed off.

"And yet, here you are, yes? When ze moment came, you followed. You 'ave—'ow you say—pushed your boundaries?"

"To put it mildly," Hissyfit said, looking down at herself. She gave a little tug upwards on the bodice of her dress. "God, I'm an idiot. If my sister could see me now, I'd never live it down. I should quit while I'm behind."

"Zat is what you really think?"

Hissy was quiet for a long time. "No," she said quietly. Then, after another pause, she said it again more forcefully. "No. Euphoria, I love her. And she loves me. I know she does. She just doesn't see it. But I've seen it. I've actually seen it."

"Ahhh," Euphoria said, nodding in understanding.

"We're leaving tomorrow. When we get home, I'll never convince her with just words. She's...stubborn. I thought I could show her while we were here. Y'know, meet her on her own terms. Show her that I understood."

"There is no shame in it. You did everything you could."

The moment stood suspended in time for a seeming eternity.

"Euphoria," Hissyfit said finally, "earlier, you said there were places here on Parley that...that had that same sense of connection, right? Like the dreams?"

"It is the closeness to Elsewhere, yes? Like a flame. Too close and you get burned. But from the right distance...magic." She paused. "There is a place. It is the closest point on this island to the rest of Elsewhere. From there, the effect is more...prononcée?"

"Pronounced."

"Oui. Pronounced."

"That sounds dangerous."

"Oui. But not ze way you mean. It is not ze danger of Elsewhere. It is a place to share dreams. When words fail. To show your fondest wishes and see your heart laid bare. That is all. You may leave when you wish."

"Then what is the problem?"

"It is a...sharing. Intimate. Not everyone would wish such a thing."

Hissyfit sat quietly for a moment.

"What's it called?"

"It is...Veilwater Falls."

The suite was empty when I got back—I guessed Trixie and Mari were out having fun somewhere—so I decided to try to clean myself up.

The nanomesh fabric of my costume was self-cleaning, but seemed to have its work cut out for it eliminating Smellcaster's stink from my cape. For my skin and hair, I was on my own. I ended up calling for the robot butler twice to find me something with a bit more cleaning power than a loofah sponge.

"Perhaps the young miss might try a dip in an active volcano," the robot suggested.

I wasn't sure which possibility annoyed me more: that this might be Machinator in this robot, giving me sass; or that it wasn't, and he'd programmed every robot on the island to do it in his absence; or that this was an honest suggestion which I grudgingly had to admit was starting to sound like a pretty good solution.

Trying to scrub myself clean also gave me plenty of time to replay the events of dinner in my head. I wasn't sure what I'd done (or hadn't done) to get Hissyfit so angry with me, but Prodigy's advice kept tumbling around in my head as well. Whatever I'd said or done clearly wasn't the answer she'd been hoping for.

A lot of what was throwing me was that Caleb was always just there for me. I mean, the time I got body-swapped into a 7-year-old girl, Caleb's response (after getting turned into a girl himself) was to grab a laser rifle and throw himself into mortal danger without question or hesitation. It didn't matter if I was Chris or Christie or Prodigious Girl, he was always by my side.

I felt terrible that I'd apparently done something to break that trust. Worse, I didn't know what I'd done! How could I apologize if I didn't even know what I was apologizing for?

I emerged from the bathroom into the suite wearing one of the hotel's cloth bathrobes. I headed into the suite intending to go to the kitchen to get something to drink, but I stopped short.

Hissyfit was there. She'd obviously just gotten in and was still wearing the red evening gown I'd seen her in at dinner.

"Oh. Hey," I said.

"Hi."

"Look, Hissy, I'm really sorry about dinner. And this weekend. I—"

She held up her hand. "Can I go first?"

I nodded, and the two of us sat down on the sofa.

"I, uh, haven't been fair to you," Hissy started. "Something—happened—to me this weekend. And I realized something. Something maybe I'd always known."

I looked at her in concern. "You decided you want to stay as a girl?"

Hissy laughed. "Oh, God, no. Pass. Hard pass."

I tilted my head in acknowledgement.

She furrowed her brow as she chose her words. "Peej, your life is complicated."

"No argument there."

"I'm not sure how much you appreciate this, but your different points of view let you see things others don't. And what I need to talk to you about, I need you to listen with all of them. At once."

"I don't think I'm following."

She brightened up a bit and edged closer to me on the couch. "I know. I'm not explaining this well. I need you to see something that I've seen. It'll all make sense, I swear."

"Okay," I said with a shrug. "Where is it?"

I changed back into my Prodigious Girl costume—it wasn't like I'd brought other clothes—and waited as Hissyfit changed into a short little sundress and sandals. It made me wonder where she'd gotten it.

"That's...cute," I said, tiptoeing around the compliment. From experience, I knew that having someone gush over a pretty dress you were wearing could be fairly emasculating.

"Thanks," she said, plucking at the skirt self-consciously. "Trixie," she said in answer to the unasked question. I nodded.

I picked Hissy up and flew away from our suite, following the coastline of the island. I was holding her in the same "princess carry" that I had before with Caleb, though if anything she seemed more awkward about it now than when she'd been a guy. The moon and the stars were out as we flew over the island, and with the sounds of the surf and the touch of the sea breeze, it was...nice. I kind of expected Hissy to comment on it, but she was strangely quiet, only speaking up to direct me.

From the air, the western edge of Parley Key gave way from carefully manicured resort paths and softly lit beaches into something wilder and more untouched. The jungle canopy thickened as we flew, the trees crowding together beneath us in dark waves that rolled all the way to the cliffs at the island's edge. The sounds of the resort faded behind us until all that remained was wind, distant surf, and the steady rush of falling water.

"There! I think," she said, pointing.

"You think? I thought you'd been here before."

"It looks different from the air. And at night," she hedged.

The waterfalls came into view, and they were absolutely breathtaking. I could only imagine what they looked like in the daytime, but being illuminated in the moonlight and starlight gave them an ethereal, otherworldly quality.

The falls were tiered, with the river emptying into a series of horseshoe-shaped waterfalls that pooled into a lagoon before continuing on to spill dramatically from the cliffs at the edge of the island in three long, silver ribbons. The deluge poured into a broad pool that was carved into black volcanic stone at the base before the water vanished into the moonlit ocean below.

It was stunning, but in the back of my mind, it made me wonder how such a place was even possible. This felt like something out of a dream.

I swooped us around the outside edge, and Hissyfit gave a girlish squeak of protest as the mist from the falls hit us, and she hugged me tighter. Mist drifted through the clearing in pale sheets, catching strange floating lights and scattering them into glittering halos. Vines hung from the cliffs overhead, swaying gently despite the lack of wind, and flowers the size of dinner plates bloomed in clusters along the rocks, their petals faintly luminous in shades of violet and blue.

"Whoa," I whispered.

Okay, I never claimed to be a poet.

I touched us down lightly on the rocks near the water's edge, my boots scraping against damp stone. I set Hissyfit down beside me, and she smoothed her dress reflexively even though there was nobody around to see it.

And that's when I saw the lights.

At first, I thought they were fireflies, as the tiny golden-green specks drifted lazily through the trees and over the water in slow spirals, blinking softly in the darkness. But as they descended, the lights became...stranger. They didn't move like insects. They pulsed almost musically, appearing in clusters before dissolving apart again. Some hung motionless in midair for several seconds before darting away all at once like startled schools of fish.

And sometimes—only occasionally—one of them would leave a faint streak behind it. Colorful. But not color. Like reality itself had briefly been smudged by its passing.

Between the noise of the falls, the sound of the ocean, the whisper of the breeze in the trees, the space was hardly quiet. But it felt quiet. Almost as though the place was listening.

The air felt unusually warm here, heavy with saltwater and flowers and the cool mist coming off the falls. I became aware of the sensation of my own breathing. The dampness on my skin. The faint pressure of Hissyfit standing close beside me.

Very close.

One of the drifting lights floated between us.

I frowned slightly as I watched it. Up close, it didn't look like a glowing insect at all. There was no body. No wings. For all the world, it resembled a tiny suspended fragment of glass, reflecting moonlight from impossible angles. Colors shifted deep inside it, faint and prismatic, like oil floating atop dark water.

And for the briefest moment, I could have sworn I saw an image inside it.

No, not an image. More of an impression. Two girls laughing together beneath sunlight. Then the light drifted away and vanished into the mist.

"It's beautiful," I said quietly. "How did you find this place?"

Beside me, Hissyfit smiled. "It sort of found me," she admitted.

She was holding my hand. When did that happen?

And all around us, the drifting lights began to gather.

"Hodge, report," Machinator's voice came over the communicator.

Hodge had slipped inside her robot "skeleton," making use of the machine's enhanced sensor array as the bulky robot navigated through the dense underbrush with surprising stealth and speed. She'd been following Prodigious Girl and Hissyfit from the ground, which was no small task. The young heroine had clearly not been moving at top speed, but she also didn't have the dense underbrush to deal with as Hodge did.

Being turtled up inside the armor also had another benefit, since in there at least she'd found a temporary refuge from the mosquitoes that had continued to bedevil her. Although in this instance, she had to admit that she'd been asking for it, given that she'd had the audacity to venture into the jungle and meet the little bastards on their home turf.

"Just a moment," Hodge said as she moved up closer to the river, using the robot's extensive sensor package to search for the pair.

"Hodge, I need to know what's going on," Machinator said impatiently.

"Really. Because this would be a lot easier if this drone could fly."

"And a good deal less inconspicuous, which would rather defeat our purpose here. Your video feed is extremely choppy."

"There's a lot of interference. I—wait. I see them. Oh, they're deep in there. Should I—?" she began.

"Eyes and ears only, Hodge," Machinator shot back. "Honestly, don't be such a worrywart. There's nothing inherently dangerous up there. The young ladies will have a waking dream and pass out. Tomorrow morning, Prodigy will accuse me of cruel misdeeds when they're discovered missing, and we'll mount a search and dispatch a couple of drones to retrieve them. By which point whatever roles they were to play in Prodigy's gambit will be well in the past."

"Acknowledged," Hodge said, the distaste evident in her voice.

"Odd," Machinator said. "I'm getting video, but there's a curious flicker."

"That's not the interference. You're seeing what I'm seeing," Hodge said as she saw the twinkling lights start to swirl and converge.

"Oh ho ho," Machinator chuckled. "'Tis time, methinks, to go establish an alibi."

I was having the strangest flashback.

I'm not sure if it was the flowers or the twinkling lights I was seeing here, but it triggered a sense memory of Demetria's garden. Her sprawling garden had been beautiful and unusual since it contained rare blossoms, and not just ones collected from Earth, either. Sadly, it had all been destroyed when Demetria was killed and the Sanctuary was destroyed. Now, the only surviving remnant of her garden was a pretty, multicolored alien potted plant that now sat on my desk at work, an Elysian Starblossom.

Wait. That wasn't right. That wasn't the garden I was thinking of.

Demetria was a powerful psychic, and I'd battled her on the psychic plane using my fickle power mimicry ability. We'd battled for the hearts and minds of everyone in Faraday City, and I'd managed to win. But the showdown had taken place in a psychic simulacrum that she'd fashioned to look like her real-life garden. Nothing was real. Everything was a metaphor.

And it was extremely dangerous.

Weird that should have popped into my mind just then.

"You okay?" Hissy asked, still holding my hand.

"Yeah, just...this place," I said. "It's gorgeous." Then I slipped my arms around her waist and pulled her close. "Not as gorgeous as you, though."

We fell into a kiss. It was...disorienting. I mean, I get the whole romantic "every kiss is special" deal, but the truth is we'd been dating for months and known each other our whole lives. So when I'd gone in for the kiss, I wasn't imagining it as some grand romantic gesture.

But this...this had "first kiss" energy to it. Love and desperation and connection and release. The feeling of finding each other in a darkened room and holding on and never letting go.

"Wow," I said as we parted.

Hissy touched my face tenderly. "You see it now, right?"

A slow smile came to my lips as I gave her a funny look. "Well, yeah."

After we got back from the island—

Wait. That was kind of a jump, wasn't it? Whatever. I guess it didn't matter.

Anyway, after we got back from the island, I flew Caylee home. It was funny seeing her in regular girl mode after seeing her all weekend as Hissyfit. I practically expected to see her hair up in pigtails, but I guessed that might be a giveaway for the secret identity. I dropped her off in her bedroom.

"Sorry this weekend was a bust. I owe you a vacation," I said to her as I took both of Caylee's hands in mine and stepped close for a kiss. She practically swooned.

I returned to her house...um, later. Sometime....? This time I was dressed as Christie. Caylee's parents had known me practically my whole life, so my coming out as a seeming trans girl was a bit of a surprise to them, but they handled it pretty well. Especially since I was dating their son, Caylee.

No, that's not right. Their...daughter? Caleb.

"Wait..."

My thoughts were interrupted by a quick kiss hello on the lips. From...Caleb. Right, I was dating Caleb. Duh, we'd been dating for months now.

I grinned and took his hand as we went out onto the sidewalk. To go see a movie. With my boyfriend. Caleb.

Right. That sounded right. And also...like this was getting pushed on me.

Everything seemed fine. I mean, it was fine. Better than fine.

Caleb turned to me, all smiles. "Hey, babe. Everything okay?"

I looked up into his face. This was real. He was real.

Am I still in the garden?

There was a strange tickle at the back of my mind. I remembered when I mimicked Demetria's powers.

Right. I didn't have to be passive. I could make things the way I wanted.

"This isn't right," I said to Caleb. "But I think I can fix things."

From her vantage point overlooking the lagoon, Hodge had maintained a clear view of the two girls. Or as clear a view as the veil of dreamscape energy around them afforded. It clung to them like gossamer strands of fabric blowing in the breeze, touching them gently and then moving on.

The explosion of energy that followed was anything but gentle. And she definitely didn't need any specialized sensor equipment to detect it. Whatever it was, it had engulfed the two girls and was now swirling around them like a vortex of light and sound and energy and a shifting curtain of reality. This was the Elsewhere effect, but ramped up hundreds, perhaps thousands of times.

And it was growing.

"Machinator!" she yelled into the comms, but no answer. The interference was too great. She took off in the opposite direction, following the edge of the river as she stormed through the underbrush, trying to get a signal out.

Hodge was cut short by a blast of dark magical energy that blasted out a line on the ground in front of her. A warning shot.

"Enchantrix!" she said, seeing the young heroine who'd just portaled in ahead of her. Her teammate Bhramari was with her, looking ready for action.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Enchantrix demanded.

"I work here! What are you two doing all the way out—never mind, it doesn't matter. I need altitude to get a signal out! Can you open a portal? It doesn't have to be very big, but get it as high as you can."

Trixie seemed about to object, but seeing the look on Hodge's face, she said nothing and just started to cast the spell. Her eyes glanced down the river, in the direction Hodge had come from.

"Are they okay?"

"I'm not sure," Hodge admitted. "But I think so. Yes. I was too far away to see when it happened, but I think they're being pulled into Elsewhere's dreamscape energy. But I've seen people make the crossing hundreds of times. I've never seen anything like this."

"Our girl does have a talent for inventing new ways to get into trouble."

"It's Patterson at the 20! The 15! The 10! The 5! TOUCHDOWN!"

The entire stadium exploded with cheers as I stormed past the last defender and crossed the goal line, seizing victory from the jaws of defeat. Nobody thought we'd make the playoffs, much less win the championship. I barely had a chance to fully process the magnitude of the moment before I got swarmed by my teammates and nearly had the wind knocked out of me by the crush of their bodies as we celebrated.

When we finally headed off the field, I never had a moment to myself, with everybody coming up to congratulate me. But there was one tackle I was looking forward to.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Caylee burst from the crowd, looking sexy in her cheerleader uniform. She practically pounced as she threw herself against me, throwing her arms gleefully around my neck. My big manly body was several inches taller than hers, but that didn't stop her from planting a kiss on my lips.

It was good timing because dark clouds were gathering fast. A storm was blowing in.

I... She...

I was a jock, wasn't I? I'm sure I remember hanging out with jocks recently. And Caylee was there. I remember that...

I landed on the rooftop of AGON Technologies, taking in the view of Faraday City. I raised one foot onto the ledge as I leaned forward and looked resolutely at the city I'd sworn to protect. Lightning and thunder practically cracked the sky as the storm moved in.

A woman's laugh sounded behind me. "So, is this the 'steely man of action' pose, or the 'dark, brooding hero oversees his city' pose?" she joked.

"Hey, Hissy," I said.

"Don't you 'hey, Hissy,' me, mister," she said as she slid her arms around my waist, and I leaned down for a kiss.

And as we parted, I looked into the eyes of—

"Caleb?" I asked.

"Big night for the big hero," he said. "Taking on Prodigy's name at last."

Something was pressing down on me. It was like a weight. I pushed back against it.

BOOM went the crack of thunder.

I fell to my knees, and I knew that I was different. I was Prodigious Girl. I think?

I glanced up and saw Caleb on his knees immediately in front of me. He took my hands in his own.

"You've changed," I said to him. "You're older. And—" I peered at his muscular physique and felt my lip twitch into a little smile, "—uh, bigger. It looks good on you."

"You're different, too," he said. I realized that my costume had changed, and I suddenly became aware that my hair was shorter. A lot shorter, in a boyish pixie cut.

"I think my hair is longer than yours," Caleb joked. But he had a funny expression as his eyes kept searching my face.

"You're not wearing your mask," he said. "You look—I can see parts of you and parts of Chris."

The storm blew in. But I couldn't tell if I was in the storm, or if I was the storm.

"Caleb, you have to get away from me. I'm not safe."

He was still holding my hands. "No. I belong here. With you. I'm staying. I'm not going anywhere."

Machinator came breezing into the Turning Suite looking for all the world like a king overseeing the peasants that toiled in his domain. There were a few gaming tables set up, but he breezed over to the one where Prodigy was standing and peering intently down at the board with his hands on his hips.

"Ah, Faraday Catan," Machinator mused. "I always thought that was a bit derivative. And if I may say, a trifle on the nose, controlling and directing metahuman resources about, don't you think?"

"I just like the pretty colors," Prodigy shot back. "Something I can do for you?"

"No. Although, if you'd care to concede our little wager, I'd be happy to comp your room."

"You'll comp it anyway when I win. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have this game to win."

Machinator made a digital snort. "Not with warp space resource markers like those, you're not. You have to—"

Just then, the entire room—the entire building—shook. It took them a moment to appreciate that it might have been more than merely the building.

And then it shook again. Harder.

Prodigy and Machinator spun on each other. "If this is another one of your tricks—!" they both shouted in unison. There was a brief pause as they stopped to read each other to see if this performance was also part of the other's trick, and both came to the same conclusion.

The room lit up with the dim glow of iComm devices as everyone tried to figure out what was going on.

"It didn't come from here. That was centered deeper in Elsewhere," Tectonica said. "From the big island. But it's not seismic. It's different. Dreamscape energy."

"Nor is it being triggered from there," Prodigy said quietly to Machinator after checking his own device. "It's being triggered from here on Parley. And why do I have a feeling like I know who's involved?"

"Fascinating supposition, my old adversary. But if you'll excuse me, I need to transfer to my control room."

He stood frozen for a second.

"I, uh, can't transfer to my control room," Machinator said with a nervous chuckle. "That, ah, that shouldn't be able to happen."

"Come on!" Prodigy growled, grabbing him by the arm as they tore out the door for the exit.

As the two of them raced through the corridors of the hotel, a holographic communication came in unbidden, hovering in front of Machinator.

"Verite! Lovely to see you. Trifle busy," Machinator said.

The slim elfin face looked almost gaunt, his eyes dark as he scowled at them with a dangerous intensity. "Machinator Cortex. I'm not sure how this is your fault, but know that I speak for the entire council when I say this: Fix this, you mechanical asshole. Immediately." He then turned his head. "Oh, and Prodigy. Why am I not surprised?"

Prodigy reached over and grabbed Machinator's arm and pushed the button to disconnect the call.

Machinator was nonplussed. "Ah. Hm. We actually don't hang up on him."

"That sounds like a 'tomorrow' kind of problem," Prodigy shot back. "Which right now sounds like a good problem to have."

They came skidding up to just outside the closed doors to Machinator's office. Machinator straightened up and turned to face Prodigy.

"Hey. Faced with potential catastrophe, I really hate to be 'that guy' and bring this up, but I feel obligated to ask. All of this isn't just a big ploy to break into my office and steal the crystal, is it? 'Cause, I mean, impressive showmanship, but kind of a dick move threatening all of reality."

Prodigy's hand lanced out with surprising speed as he grabbed Machinator by the neck and slammed him up against the wall.

"Listen, fucknuts. Open this goddamn door, or I'm going to smash you into a million pieces, retrieve the broadcast antenna out of your skull and then use it to broadcast a virus that hunts down your consciousness and reprograms you into a FarmVille app on my phone."

The door slid open.

"'No' would have been sufficient."

Machinator followed Prodigy into the office, where Prodigy was already examining the map of Parley Key prominently displayed on one of the monitors. There at the edge of the island was the smaller energy disruption that seemed to be triggering the bigger disruption on the big island deeper in Elsewhere. Small triangles on the map indicated who was present.

"Well, there's your problem," Machinator said. "Veilwater Falls? What are they doing out there? They shouldn't be there."

Prodigy hit him with his best 'you're not fooling anybody' glare. "Can you just not for a fucking minute?" he snapped.

Machinator cleared his throat. "Hodge, report."

"This is what 'blowing up in your face' looks like!" she yelled over the comms.

"Haha! Very amusing, Hodge! I should note we also have Prodigy on the line. Who's listening. Intently."

"Enchantrix! How is she?" Prodigy barked into the comms, tapping her in.

"I think you mean, 'How are they,'" she corrected. "Hissyfit is in there, too. We think they're alive, but I can't keep a portal open to get to them. I could try some chaos magic—"

"No!" Prodigy and Machinator yelled together.

"No, that's throwing gasoline on a forest fire," Prodigy said. He thought for a moment and then turned to Machinator. "Are you still using those bullshit ionic modulators in your robots?"

Machinator looked offended. "How dare you, sir. I'll have you know, those are—" Then he stopped and nodded in realization. "Oh, I see where you're going with that. Hodge, we're going to download some mods to your drone's onboard computer. You might not want to be near it when that happens. But it should stabilize things enough to open a portal into the area."

"Thrilling. Always love the technobabble," Trixie mocked. "But we may have another problem. If we just sent the two lovebirds into a dreamland of infinite potential, what are we going to do if they decide they don't want to leave?"

Prodigy and Machinator turned to look at each other.

"God, I hate teenagers," Prodigy said.

"Nice to finally be on the same page for once," said Machinator.

Soon, Machinator finished typing the new code into the computer. "Hodge, stand by to receive download."

"Ready," her voice came back. Strangely, it sounded more synthetic than when she was using the robot form. She was obviously in her liquid form and using her bioelectric powers to use her communicator to talk.

"You're not going to test it?" Prodigy asked.

"No. First, I didn't make any mistakes. And second, if I did make a mistake, it's likely we'll all die anyway and nobody will learn of it." He peered at one of the monitors. "Impressive readings. I had no idea your young charge was so powerful."

"She's not. Something in there triggered a feedback response. Elsewhere is literally feeding on itself."

In point of fact, Prodigy had a pretty good idea of exactly what that "something" was. They still knew maddeningly little about Prodigious Girl's power mimicry ability except that it was usually triggered under signs of duress. But if something in there had triggered her, it was entirely possible that she was mimicking the Elsewhere effect itself. It'd be like holding a microphone to a speaker, but instead of an ear-splitting shriek, the effect could be like shredding parts of reality itself.

A friendly beep came from one of the secondary displays.

"Ah. The projected damage assessment. Lovely," Machinator said.

"How bad is it?"

Machinator turned his head to smile at Prodigy. "You'll notice how I'm not desperately running for an escape craft, yelling, 'I can make it, I can make it'?"

"Yeah, maybe don't bother with the testing," Prodigy agreed. He tilted his head in a little sideways nod. "Gonna die of something."

"Having tried that once, I can't say I was much of a fan. Hodge, incoming."

Trixie, Mari, and Hodge were hiding behind a large rock, peering at her robot body, which started to charge up. Trixie had asked if, given the forces that were in play, hiding behind a rock was likely to make any difference. Hodge, now in her semi-liquid jellyfish form, made a full-body wobbling motion that Trixie assumed to be a shrug. The girls then followed the luminescent bioelectric creature to comparative safety.

"There's something you don't see every day," Trixie muttered to herself.

"I'll keep the portal open," Trixie said, feeling a little foolish talking to a glittering blob. "You should anchor yourself here and try to pull them out."

Hodge said nothing, but one of her tentacles wrapped around a nearby palm tree that looked sturdy.

"Here goes nothing," Trixie said.

The instant the portal opened, they were immediately sucked towards it, as if it were a black hole gobbling up all of reality and had just discovered an exciting new vista to vacuum up.

Both Trixie and Mari were swept off their feet towards the portal, only barely saved as a pair of Hodge's bioluminescent tentacles darted out and grabbed them. They could see PG and Caleb through the portal, but the pair seemed oblivious to their surroundings, kneeling on the ground and holding each other's hands.

Worse, Trixie realized that their plan wasn't going to work. Hodge couldn't possibly stretch far enough to reach in and grab the pair, especially while she was keeping Trixie and Mari tethered.

Peej and Caleb needed to come to them. But the young couple was living in a world of their own.

"Peej!" Trixie screamed, trying to get their attention, but it was no use. Between the violent storm and the raging cataract of water from the falls, her words were practically being ripped out of her mouth onto the wind as she spoke them. She might as well have been yelling from the surface of the Moon.

Mari was making a herculean effort to try to reach the pair, but her reach was limited by Hodgepodge, who was holding on to Mari and Trixie as a lifeline, keeping them from being sucked in.

Trixie could tell this wasn't working, but it was taking all of her focus and energy to try to keep the portal open. They needed PG and Shapiro to come to them, but they were lost in their literal dreamworld, oblivious to what was going on around them.

Trixie was about to yell some advice to Mari, when suddenly she remembered how Mari's powers worked.

Mari was deaf and mute, but she'd learned to hear using her insect scrying powers. She'd taken to always keeping a few flying insects around her which could pick up on the vibrations in the air, allowing Mari to hear. Mari did this all the time, so even though they often used sign language to talk out of habit, it was easy to forget that Mari couldn't actually hear.

Easy to forget, that is, until moments like this. In this raging wind and vortex of energy, there was no way Mari would be able to keep any insects nearby. Which meant that Trixie couldn't communicate with her either.

"Oh, brilliant," the young sorceress muttered to herself. "We need to shout to get their attention, so of course we sent in the mute girl and the jellyfish. Bloody hell."

Bhramari, meanwhile, had already reached the same conclusion. She tugged at Hodge's tentacle to try to loosen her grip to get more reach, but if anything Hodge gripped her more tightly, signaling that she was at the literal and figurative end of her rope. And they were running out of time.

Which is when inspiration struck.

With an effort, Mari reached across her body to her opposite wrist and punched up the display on her iComm communication unit. Quickly, she fumbled through the menus and then swiped her finger across to the right to play a song at the device's maximum volume.

Hey, hey! You, you! I don't like your girlfriend!
No way, no way! I think you need a new one!
Hey, hey! You, you! I could be your girlfriend...

"I don't know how to do this," I said to Caleb. "Every time I decide who I am, I'm abandoning somebody else."

"You don't have to solve it all tonight. And you don't have to do it alone. I'm here. I'm not leaving."

That's what he said, but his demeanor was different. Distracted. Then, faintly, like a voice on the wind, I heard it, too.

I know that you like me!
No way, no way!
You know it's not a secret
Hey, hey! You, you! I want to be your girlfriend...

Caleb got a funny look on his face. "...Trixie?" he wondered.

He vigorously shook his head. "No. No, it's okay. We can fix this. We'll be here, and we'll be together. This place can be anything we want it to be."

I squeezed his hand tighter. "Caleb, I don't know if I'm strong enough to do that."

"It doesn't matter. We've already got everything we need. We're together, and that's all that matters."

"That's all that matters," I echoed uncertainly. But Caleb was so certain. That was enough. "We're together."

I bit my lip as I struggled to bring my scattered thoughts together. "But...it's not...just us. Is it?" I asked. "It's like you said before. When I was Christie, it's not just me I changed. I changed the people around me. I changed...you."

There was another clap of thunder, and again that voice on the wind.

So come over here and tell me what I wanna hear
Better yet, make your girlfriend disappear...

"This place can be whatever we want," Caleb said, but he sounded less certain this time, like he was trying to convince himself. Then he closed his eyes tightly, even as his shoulders slumped. Like the fight had drained out of him. "I don't want this. I want to be with you, but not like this. I'll love whoever you become, but it won't mean anything if it's not real."

I didn't fully understand what he was saying. The—pressure—of this place was doubling and redoubling on me. It was like I couldn't breathe. I felt like I was being pulled deep underwater, with the crushing ocean depths pressing against me. The blackness closing in around me.

But I could still feel Caleb's hand in mine.

I watched as he stood up with an unexpected confidence. He was scanning the horizon, searching for something, but I couldn't tell what he was looking for.

"Chris. We have to go," he said. At least, I think that's what he said. He seemed so far away. But I could still feel his hand.

His lips were moving, but I couldn't hear the words. The storm was everywhere. I felt as he pulled me to my feet.

We were running—I think—running deeper into the storm. The fierce, angry wind blasted against me, and it felt like it was after me personally.

But Caleb still held me. I knew we'd be okay as long as we stayed together.

"Jump!"

His warning had come a split second too late as I felt the ground fall away beneath my feet, and his hand slipped from my grasp. A startled shriek escaped my lips as I fell, feeling suddenly alone. I flailed out with my hands as the abyss yawned beneath me, but then out of nowhere I felt his strong hand grab mine again.

"Mari?" I said in confusion, looking up at her where she was clinging onto Caleb with both arms wrapped around him. Beyond her, I saw Trixie and then felt as we were forcibly yanked back through one of her portals.

I was reeling. My head was spinning. I felt the need to step up, to be the hero, to solve everything and save everyone. But tonight it was okay to ask for help. Caleb had me. Our friends had him. And that was enough.

And then I passed out.

Hodge yanked everyone back so hard that it accidentally sent Trixie flying backwards as Mari slammed into her. But as the portal closed, the storm began to abate, and an eerie calm returned to the jungle. As though the catastrophic danger that had loomed only moments ago was now nothing more than a swiftly forgotten memory, giving way to a strangely tranquil scene with the small glittering lights flitting about again.

Trixie sat up on the ground and did a quick head count. Mari looked okay, but had gotten the wind knocked out of her. Hodge had been reduced to a shimmering pile of bioluminescent goo, but that appeared to be normal for her, so Trixie decided not to worry about it. And PG and Hissyfit seemed to be back to their normal selves, and were unconscious but breathing. And still holding hands, she noticed.

Exhausted, Trixie leaned back against the rock as she breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"And once again, the day is saved...by early 2000s Canadian pop sensation Avril Lavigne," she said. "I'm going to need a vacation after this vacation."

Strange dreams.

Evidently, now that I'd come to Elsewhere's attention, that night I experienced the vivid lucid dreams that the others had been talking about. Except mine weren't dreams. They were memories. Or formed by memories. Or at least they were variations on a theme of what we'd experienced at the falls. It was like my subconscious was turning the idea around, looking at it from different angles. But always with the same inescapable conclusion.

Caleb was in love with me.

My dreams were thorough, running through all kinds of permutations. Sometimes I was the girl, sometimes he was, sometimes both, sometimes neither. We took turns being superheroes. A couple times we were adults.

The most unsettling combination turned out to also be the most ordinary—with Caleb and me just being two normal guys, reminiscent of the way things were a year ago before all of this superhero stuff began. Like the other variations, the dream showed us as together and in love, but it all felt so incredibly normal. We were just...us. Our lives there were almost quaint in their simplicity compared with our real lives, but with it came a certainty.

The more complications the dreams layered on, the less sure I felt. About anything. Especially myself.

Now, in the light of day, I wasn't certain about anything. I mean, I knew I had feelings for Caleb, but we'd known each other our whole lives. It was hard to know if I felt "that way" about him when I didn't even know myself!

Complicating matters was that I'd spent over three days in Prodigious Girl's body, which at the time was the longest I'd ever gone without switching back to Chris. I'd barely noticed.

It would have been easy to throw myself into Caleb's arms as Prodigious Girl, professing my love and flying both of us off into the sunset. But then we'd get home, and I would be Chris. Or...Christie. Or something.

My reluctance wasn't that we'd both be guys. At least I didn't think so. But it was easy to make big decisions as Prodigious Girl. Prodigious Girl punched things and saved the day. As Chris, I had school, and work, and friends, and family. And, and, and. I'd—what was the word Prodigy liked to use?—compartmentalized my lives, my identities. And now I had to make a decision that affected all of them. And all I felt was unsure.

Caleb didn't even hesitate.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the door. Caleb was going to be there on the other side. And he was going to be expecting some kind of answer. And I didn't know what to say.

Interrupting my thought was the sound of a cheery electronic chirp that came from my iComm, and I looked down at the message displayed there on the screen. I'd linked it with my phone, so it was actually a text message sent to me as Chris.

It was from Leah. It read, "hey grrl! hope the trip is good. i want details! see u soon! xxxooo"

I stared at the message for a long moment, watching the cursor in the blank response field blink continually off and on like a turn signal. My hand hovered over the virtual keyboard, as if hoping that my fingers would instinctively know what to type even if my brain didn't.

I closed the iComm down.

I emerged from my room to find that everyone was already up and about and in costume. Right, because we had our appointment with Machinator this morning to settle his "heist" bet with Prodigy.

Trixie and Mari were sitting on the plush couch that looked out the big bay windows towards the ocean, and they gave me friendly but concerned smiles, obviously wondering if I was okay. And across the room was Hissyfit, with her back to me as she stood at the buffet picking at food.

"You okay?" Prodigy asked as he walked up to me. Gruff as usual, but gentler than normal.

I nodded. Or at least I thought I did. What started off as a nod turned into an uncertain head wobble.

He gave a little grunt of acknowledgment. "Believe it or not, that's normal. Like I said, that place can mess you up."

"I suppose now you're going to tell me it wasn't real."

"Seems to me you already know what's real," he countered. "Kid, as you get older, you're gonna find out that the only thing worse than a lie is a half-truth. Go get something to eat."

"Yeah, but—"

"Eat," he said emphatically. He then raised an eyebrow and gave me a knowing look. "I need you sharp."

I knew better than to argue with him. I went and grabbed a bagel and sat down at the table across from Hissyfit, who was nudging some food around on her plate.

Her shoulders slumped as she looked at me. "I'm so sorry—"

"No," I said. Her wounded expression told me I'd been harsher than I intended. "I mean— I don't mean—" I stammered. "Just...not right now. Not here," I said, my eyes cutting over at the robot butler.

Frankly, I could give a shit about Machinator listening in, except insofar that we'd have to be careful about using our names. But honestly, this was a conversation I wanted to have with Caleb, not Hissyfit. The irony wasn't lost on me that Caleb seemed perfectly happy with having this conversation with me in any or all of my identities. Which, of course, was part of the problem. But I wanted to minimize as many complications as possible, and that wasn't going to happen sitting here in the next ten minutes.

So we ate in silence.

I bristled a little at the quiet. Caleb wasn't just a friend, he was my best friend. When I'd gotten my powers, I ran to tell him immediately. When it came time to design my hero identity, he was right there. For all the talk of "secret identities" and such, I never had any secrets from him. I could maybe accept that he felt the need to keep his feelings about me to himself, but the fact that all this had managed to draw a curtain of silence between us was almost worse.

"Alright, let's get this the hell over with," Prodigy said.

The walk to Machinator's office was equally maddening. Nobody said anything, which was a sharp contrast to the excited chatter we'd shared only a few days earlier when we'd first set foot on Parley.

When we arrived, the outer office door was wide open, a gesture that was clearly calculated to be part open invitation and part show of confidence. A false sense of openness from a man desperate to show that he had nothing to hide.

It bothered me a little that my assessment reeked of Prodigy's cynicism, and that he was obviously rubbing off on me. As we entered, I could practically imagine the thought balloons over both our heads simultaneously thinking, "Ugh, get a load of THIS asshole."

We stepped into the vestibule as the doors closed behind us and the inner doors opened.

Though as we entered, the inside of Machinator's office shook me.

It was...bright. Windows surrounded the back and sides of the space, which I didn't recognize from my previous visit. And as we walked in, I realized that the views outside were almost certainly physically impossible, given the orientation of the room and where it was located within the building. It took me a moment to realize that these weren't in fact windows, but were actually high-tech video screens projecting a bright and breezy view of the island.

Everything about this was fake.

Machinator Cortex was seated behind his desk, with Hodgepodge standing off to one side. She didn't react to our entrance, but Machinator was up out of his seat with sweepingly gregarious gestures, as though we were old friends who'd dropped by unexpectedly.

"There you are. I'm delighted to see you're up and about after your harrowing experience last evening. Hodge told me all the details. Shocking business. But that's what you get going off on your own like that. If you'd asked, I would have warned you about how dangerous it can be to wander off by yourself. But of course, I had no idea that you were planning to—"

Prodigy threw a small handheld data pad over to Hodge, who caught it and fumbled with it to examine the screen. It took her a moment, since she had to pause to swat at another persistent mosquito that seemed determined to drain her juices.

"And what is that?" Machinator asked.

Prodigy locked eyes with him. "It's a logbook detailing the movements and location of Euphoria yesterday evening." He gave Hodge a significant look. "The real Euphoria."

"Quel dommage," Machinator said with an awkward wince. "All right, fair enough. Well played. But that one—" he pointed at me, "—nearly killed us all, so I'm calling us even on that score."

Prodigy turned to me, apparently seeing if I was satisfied with that. I shrugged.

"To business, then," Machinator said, rubbing his hands together with obvious relish. He planted his butt on the edge of his desk as he locked eyes with Prodigy with an extremely self-satisfied expression on his mechanical face. "I have to say, you kept me on my toes this weekend, but ultimately it was all for naught."

"Well, I wouldn't say for naught," Prodigy said. "I had fun. Girls?"

Hissyfit and Bhramari looked at each other. Hissy seemed a bit withdrawn, likely intimidated by Machinator and where we now were. It was, after all, her first time in the heart of a villain's lair. But Mari gave her a nudge of encouragement since she couldn't speak up for herself.

"Um, Mari and I got to meet some celebrities," Hissyfit volunteered.

As she said it, Mari reached over and grabbed Hissy's wrist to pull up an image on her iComm of the two girls taking a selfie with Euphoria and Synthwave. Mari gave Hissy another little nudge, and Hissy moved over to Prodigy and showed him the picture, and he gave a nod of approval.

Hissy then turned to Machinator and rather shyly held out the image for his inspection, but he drew himself up to his full looming height and gave her a look that clearly signaled that he was not amused by the foolishness. Hissy withdrew a step closer to Prodigy.

"I mostly just hung out at the pool," Trixie offered.

I gave another shrug. "I had a good time in the arena. So not naught," I agreed. Then I paused and repeated it more slowly. "Not...naught. No, I got that right," I said with a nod.

"Delightful," Machinator said dryly. "But once again, as you were setting your trap, you were merely walking into my own."

He shook his head in disbelief as he chided Prodigy. "Unbelievable. This was your plan. This was your actual plan. You thought I'd be so distracted keeping an eye on you that you thought these fools could do the job for you. But all I had to do was throw a few minor celebrities in their path, and they practically tripped over their capes wasting the entire weekend."

Bhramari signed something in sign language.

Enchantrix nodded, "Good point, Mari. She says she doesn't wear a cape."

Hissyfit quietly raised a finger. "Uh, me neither," she offered. "If we're counting."

Machinator gave her another dark look, and she shrank back.

"Not helping, guys," I muttered.

Machinator swept around the room with long steps, gesturing with his hands expansively. "Oh, do not apologize. This was well worth my time. I get to see your mentor humiliated. Again. I'm pleased you girls had a good weekend, because for me, this has been an absolute pleasure. Even more so once he pays up."

He turned to Prodigy and shook his head again. "God, you're pathetic. I can see every eventuality. Every plan your stupid meat brain could possibly conceive of, I already ran through probability simulations weeks ago and developed counter-strategies."

Machinator continued to stand in front of Prodigy, towering over him and seeming extremely smug with an expectant look on his face.

Prodigy, however, was doing something I seldom got to see him do. He was...smiling. It wasn't a huge smile, but one that clearly communicated his own self-satisfaction.

Machinator's smile faded, just a touch.

"What...what is this? What is this supposed to mean? You think you won?" His plasticized brow furrowed slightly. "You think you won," he repeated, puzzling over the implications of that statement. He then turned to Hodge, who was still standing by his boss's desk. "He thinks he won."

Hodge said nothing, obviously trying to stay out of this as much as possible. But once again, she scratched at an itch and swatted at a mosquito that was bothering her.

Machinator again turned to Prodigy. "You didn't win. You couldn't have. The jewel is still in my safe. It never left."

Prodigy said nothing, but simply raised his eyebrows incrementally.

Our perturbed mechanical host spun around and opened a hidden panel in the wall, and his hand moved with near blinding speed as he entered an enormously overcomplicated access code. We then heard a screeching computer noise that I think may have been an old-school computer modem, which Machinator then answered with a matching screech of his own. A moment later, the safe opened.

Giving us a wary double-take, Machinator retrieved a small black box that was about the size of a jewelry box for an engagement ring. He looked between both it and Prodigy.

Prodigy gave a small shrug.

"Not possible," Machinator muttered as he tapped at the box in a complicated sequence on multiple sides. A moment later there was a clicking noise as the box opened. Gingerly, he flipped open the lid to reveal the ruby inside, glowing with what appeared to be eldritch energy.

His whole mechanical body practically sagged in relief. "I knew it. I knew you were fucking with me," he said, holding up the case with the jewel. He even flashed a peek over to Hodge, who again scratched and swatted an invisible insect.

"Oh, go get some calamine lotion," Machinator snapped before again returning his attention to Prodigy, holding out the jewel triumphantly. "Okay, enough of this bullshit. Just say it. Say the words. You tell me that I win and you lose."

Prodigy maddeningly said nothing.

"Oh, come on!" Machinator said petulantly. "It's right here. Right here in my hand. See?" he said desperately as he stalked forward. "It's not like you—"

His voice trailed off. "You...switched it. You switched it? With a duplicate." He plucked the ruby out of the box and peered at it. "But when did you—?"

Hodge again swatted at herself, a sharp slap that resounded in the quiet of the office.

The agitated Machinator turned angrily to his subordinate, clearly about to chew her out for the distraction, but as the two made eye contact, realization settled in. The office was hermetically sealed. How were all these mosquitoes getting in?

Suddenly, the two of them spun to look at Bhramari.

Bhramari, who could control insects.

She clicked her tongue as she gave them a little "finger gun" gesture.

Machinator exploded. "That is unauthorized surveillance! That is an extremely serious infraction! The ruling council of Elsewhere—"

"—won't hear anything about it," Prodigy interrupted. "Bhramari has a disability waiver. She's deaf, and she uses insects to hear. And it's legit, unlike that fucking 'emotional support kraken.'"

"Wait just a minute," Hodge interrupted. "Using them to hear is one thing, but she wasn't even in the room. She might have been hundreds of feet away."

"Heh, yeah, funny thing, that," Prodigy said with a smile. "I checked the rules. Support animals are allowed in this context, but there's no mention as to the distance. You might want to amend the rules to fix that little oversight."

Machinator and Hodge, both totally flummoxed, turned to look at each other. They were clearly each wondering if they had a leg to stand on in the argument, to say nothing of wondering about everything that Mari might have seen with the insects that Hodge had been unknowingly transporting. Which was considerable.

The distraction worked perfectly. I watched as Machinator's jaw went slack as he tried to process all that.

And his grip on the jewel also went slack.

"Now!" I yelled.

Hissyfit had been standing closest to Machinator, and in a blink, her hand darted out and smacked Machinator's hand upwards with surprising force, sending the jewel flying. The glittering jewel didn't even make it to the top of its arc before it disappeared into one of Enchantrix's teleportals.

All eyes in the room watched for the companion teleportal, which opened up right in front of me, and I snatched the jewel out of the air.

As Machinator locked eyes on me, I could see a flash of panicked disbelief on his synthetic face as he read my intent.

"She wouldn't," he whispered.

"She would," Prodigy said with a chuckle.

"No. No! Don't you dare—!"

It was too late. I popped the jewel into my mouth. And swallowed.

Machinator was aghast. "You— I can't— You just—" he sputtered. Then he pointed at me accusingly. "That does not count!"

"It will in a day or two," Prodigy said with a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

"But....that was the stupidest thing I ever saw!"

"Heh. Yeah."

"You knew about this!"

Prodigy was still smiling as he shook his head. "Oh, no. But like you said, I knew you'd see any plan I could come up with from a mile away. So I outsourced to my chaos gremlin. There's no defense against that."

In a trice, Machinator was up in my face, towering over me. "This is not over, princess. I am getting that jewel back. I will slice you open if I have to."

"Yeah, about that," I said as I expelled a small burp. "Excuse me. Whoof. That went down kinda rough. I don't suppose you could get one of these robots to fetch me a glass of milk?"

Prodigy cleared his throat.

Oh, right. Bad idea taunting the bad guy while standing in his own lair.

"Anyway, first thing is, I'm kinda tough," I said to him.

"I've dealt with tougher."

"Probably. But attacking one of the guests is against the rules here. I hear it'll get you expelled. And when I was in here before, I heard you say that you don't interfere with security decisions. So that's really not your call, it's hers," I said, indicating Hodge.

Machinator seemed like he was about to hit me with a smart comment, but then he turned to look at Hodge, who gave him an equivocal shrug of agreement.

"But really, none of that matters," Enchantrix cut in, "because we basically spent all weekend making friends with pretty much everybody here."

"What are you talking about?"

"We split up to cover more ground. Didn't you notice?" I asked. "Every jock hanging out at the arena likes me or at least respects me. Mari and Hissy have been hanging out with the celebrity crowd—"

Hissy proudly held up the picture again.

"I hung out at the pool," Trixie offered. "You meet lots of fun people at the pool."

I nodded. "And Prodigy spent days drinking and gambling with all the adults we couldn't reach."

Machinator glared at Prodigy. "No. No. I might believe your little Girl Scout troop here beguiled the other guests. Maybe. But not you. You are not 'popular.'"

"Beg to differ. True, I may lack the—I'm going to go with 'natural charms'—of my young associates here, but I'm not above buying my way out of a problem. You drop a couple hundred thousand dollars at poker, people are going to be happy to see you coming."

Mari signed an inquisitive message.

"No," Trixie said with conviction. "Emphatically not. We are most certainly not 'Prodigy's Angels.'"

Enchantrix then returned her attention to Machinator. "You try to hurt her over your little tiff, and you just picked a fight with pretty much every metahuman on this island."

Prodigy gave Machinator a chummy slap on the shoulder, causing the synthetic man to cringe. "Oh, and just to make it official: I win. You lose."

As we walked back to the jet, Trixie, Mari, and Hissy were walking ahead of us just a bit out of earshot, but I was hanging back, walking alongside Prodigy.

I gave him a playful little nudge with my shoulder.

When he didn't respond, I repeated the move, pressing against him more insistently.

"All right," he relented. He didn't turn to face me, but his eyes cut over to see my smiling face. "Don't be smug."

"I'm allowed. C'mon, say it."

He made an exasperated groan. "There are times—not many, mind you, but they do exist—when I'm not entirely embarrassed to have you associated with me."

I clasped my hands together and held them to my heart, and made like I would swoon.

"Oh, my God. Is—is this...praise? It's just like in the storybooks! It's everything I ever dreamed it would be!"

"Uh huh."

I blinked quickly in wonder. "You read about how it happens to other people, but you never think it'll actually happen to you."

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Sarcasm is my love language."

He peered over at me. "You did all right," he said. "Thanks."

I nodded magnanimously.

As we were walking, I heard a few quick, heavy footsteps come up behind us as we were joined by Hodgepodge.

Prodigy let out a low chuckle. "Oh, man. He has you escorting us out of the building? Guess we touched a nerve."

"You have no idea."

I expected Prodigy to balk at having to accept an armed escort, but as we navigated the corridors of the building, I soon understood why he didn't complain about it.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked. For a moment, I thought he was talking to me until I realized that the question was directed at Hodge.

"Oh, yeah. He's already planning your humiliating defeat. He'll be bitchy and pissy and locked in his office for at least a few days. It'll be like a vacation for me."

She shook her head. "Mosquitoes," she marveled. "I knew she could control insects, but on a jungle island, I never put it together. You were using them to spy on us. Clever."

Prodigy pointed at me with his thumb. "Wasn't my idea. Blame this one."

"Hm," Hodge said approvingly as she cast a glance in my direction. "Well, it might have saved your life. I was wondering how your friends were able to show up so quickly last night. They weren't watching you, they were watching me."

"Speaking of bugs," Prodigy began. "Any reason I should sweep the plane for trackers and listening devices?"

"Of course not," Hodge said, seemingly mildly offended. "That'd be a serious offense. He'd have to be furious to risk something that stupid."

Prodigy said nothing and raised an eyebrow.

"That jet is getting on in years," Hodge offered conversationally. "Aircraft of that vintage have been known to have problems with the secondary navigation system."

"That's a good tip. Over by the copilot's seat?"

"Just under that loose panel covering. You should get that fixed," she said.

"Much obliged," Prodigy responded.

"Oh, you know me, just trying to keep things fair and everyone out of trouble."

I smiled, but then a moment later, I realized that the two of them were staring at me. Intently.

Confused, I looked between them, and Prodigy ever so subtly tilted his head towards Hodge.

"Ah," I said. "Fucking off now."

I took a few hurried steps to catch up with the others.

"I thought you'd be basking in adulation," Trixie said.

"It wasn't much of a bask. And they wanted a private conversation."

The girls glanced over their shoulders at the pair.

"Prodigy and Hodgepodge, huh?" Trixie said, amused. "I didn't have that on my bingo card for the weekend."

As we were walking, we saw Vagabond heading in the opposite direction. The floral Bermuda shorts he was wearing were...an interesting choice.

"Ladies! Vacatin' the vacation so soon? And here I was hopin' for a bit more mischief 'fore you skedaddled."

"We're mischiefed out," Trixie said.

"Oh, I dearly hope that's not the case. Lady Blackwood, a word, if I may?"

Trixie gave me a puzzled shrug as the two of them stepped aside, and the rest of us headed on our way.

Vagabond stepped over to the side to have a quiet word with Trixie.

"I have been observin' you these last few days, Lady Blackwood," he said.

"See anything good?"

"In point of fact, that's exactly what I've been seein'. And much to my surprise, I might be addin'." He held his gaze as if he were trying to see something inside her. "You really ain't the same as before, are you?"

Trixie had been ready to respond with a smart remark, but saw that he wasn't teasing. "I'm trying not to be. It's not...easy."

"Seldom 'tis. You were inquirin' after the Eidetic Charm."

Trixie had been trying to play it cool, but her interest was clearly piqued. "I thought you said that was a dead end."

"If it tweren't before, it most certainly was after me and Lolo got through with it, make no mistake." He made a tsk noise with his tongue. "Ever'thin' is so personal these days. Time was, you kill a man, that was the end of it. Nowadays he's got a family, and they swear bloody revenge. It's just exhaustin'."

"My sympathies. Your point?"

"Mmm," Vagabond said in a guttural purr. "There's that Blackwood directness I've come to cherish. You and your mama are cut from the same cloth," he teased.

"Let's hope not."

"True words. My point, Lady Blackwood, is that while we were quite thorough in, ah, pruning that particular branch, we were not the only, shall we say, interested parties?"

"Other people were after the Charm? Who?"

"Firstly was a hero named Synergy. You ever have the pleasure?"

Trixie shook her head. "Corporate hero. I've heard of him, that's it."

"Her, actually," Vagabond corrected. "She transitioned on the job, as it were. A trans woman leadin' a superhero team. It's all very progressive."

"Good for her. Who's the other?"

He took a heavy breath. "Ooh, a personage of your acquaintance, as I recall. I believe she's taken over stewardship of that group you were with. That one that took in wayward young heroines? No insult intended."

"The Sanctuary?" Trixie responded, puzzled. "That was destroyed. Nobody—" Her eyes went wide. "Harridan."

"I do believe that was her name. We were not formally introduced, and she wasn't much of a talker. Tragically lackin' in the social graces."

Trixie's mind raced. If Harridan was after the Eidetic Charm, it might be for essentially the same reason as Trixie herself—to keep Demetria's mind-wiped charges in line. Or worse. She didn't know what Synergy's interest might be, but it likely wasn't much better.

She started to say something, but then stopped. "Thank you," she said instead.

Vagabond seemed impressed by her reaction. "'Tain't much."

"Why are you telling me this?" Trixie asked.

He chuckled. "In truth, I be wonderin' the same thing. You got Lolo to thank. I was gonna keep my mouth shut, but he's the born romantic. He saw you with your little pigtailed friend and thought you was worth helpin'."

Trixie gave a faint smile. "She might disagree. But thanks."

She considered for a moment what, if anything, to tell him. She wasn't sure she was in a mood to divulge that she needed the Charm to keep from backsliding into darkness. Given his antipathy for Trixie's mother, he'd probably be supportive of that, but while he could be personable, he was still a villain, and proudly so. Some secrets should probably remain secrets, she decided.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I'm looking for the Charm?" she asked.

He flitted his hand about like he was shooing away a fly. "Way I figure, you're either gonna lie or tell me the truth. If it's a lie, I gotta waste energy figurin' out what you're up to. If it's the truth, then I risk gettin' sucked in to your tomfoolery. I'm on vacation."

Trixie nodded. "If I do find the last Charm, I promise not to use it to wipe your brain or make you think you're a bowl of collard greens or something."

"I'd be obliged."

He held out his palm, face up.

At first, Trixie was confused, but then her breath caught in her throat as she realized what he was doing. Hesitantly at first, and then with growing confidence, she reached out and placed her hand atop his. They twisted their wrists in a mirrored gesture until they were holding their hands out in front of them, palm-to-palm, and then separated. The Wizards' Passing.

"I haven't done that in a while," Trixie admitted.

"More's the pity. Be well, Lady Blackwood."

By the time we got to the jet, Trixie was only a few steps behind us. We all paused there to wait for Prodigy to finish talking to Hodge.

"Think he's going to kiss her?" I wondered as we watched.

Hissy, who had been fairly quiet up until that point, said, "What would that even be like?"

"Squishy and electric," Trixie said.

All of us made pleasant little "Hm" noises. If just one of us had done it, it might have gone unnoticed, but it made for a noticeably girly chorus.

"Oh, my God," Hissyfit groaned. "Trixie, fun is fun, but the second we get on the plane, you're changing me back."

"Tired of the pigtails already? But credit where it's due, Shapiro. You've been extremely game about the whole thing. Oh, which reminds me. Mari?"

Mari, nodding in agreement, tapped a few buttons on her iComm. She hit a button and it beeped, and the beep was then echoed by a simultaneous beep from Trixie's device.

"What's that all about?"

"Mari bet me ten bucks you wouldn't last fifteen minutes as a girl."

Hissyfit snorted. Then a thought occurred to her. "Wait a minute, you mean there was another option?!"

She looked to me in disbelief, and I shrugged and patted her sympathetically on the shoulder.

We turned to see Prodigy heading in our direction. Behind him, where they'd been standing, Hodge's metallic robot endoskeleton was now standing sentry with the other drones, and I watched as the bioluminescent tentacled Hodge slipped her way down the rocks towards the water and dove into one of the deep tidal pools.

Prodigy watched as Mari signed him a message.

"I don't know what she just said, but I'm picking up a lot of teenage sass," he said.

"Allow me to translate," Trixie said. "'You liiiike her! You like the squid lady!'" she teased in a singsong lilt.

Prodigy wagged a finger at us. "All right, you little miscreants. I know how this works. You're not going to let this go until I give you some details."

We all perked up.

"First...it was a long time ago."

"Mmm," Trixie murmured, unconvinced.

"Second, I am well familiar with all the jokes about having romantic encounters with, shall we say, viscous, liquid, or semi-liquid life forms. And I will not be entertaining any questions."

"Aww," we said.

He turned and took a couple of steps toward the plane. Then he stopped and turned back to face us.

"I will say this. If ever the situation should arise and you find you have the means..." He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows appreciatively.

We soon found ourselves airborne and on our way home, and I was seated at the small table. Trixie and Mari had taken a couple of seats up towards the front of the plane, and I'm pretty sure were pretending to be asleep.

Caleb emerged from the small lavatory and gave the crotch of his pants an indiscreet tug as he made an adjustment.

"Everything back where it should be?" I asked, trying to maintain a playful tone.

He sat down in the seat facing me across the table. "Yeah. I'll give it a proper shakedown when I get home."

"Gross," I said with a small smile. "So, does this mean we're still talking?"

"That depends. Are you going to complain again about how I was complicit in transforming your favorite character into a girl?"

"No," I said with a little smile. I'd had butterflies about this conversation all morning, so leave it to Caleb to ease into it with a joke.

"Then we're still talking." He sighed a little and then cleared his throat awkwardly. "And, uh, I'm sorry I almost got us killed. Or almost unraveled the threads that bind reality, or whatever that was."

I considered that. "I figure you've saved my life like two or three times at least. So actually, by superhero standards, your batting average is still pretty good."

"Your world is nuts," he said.

"Not just mine. You're part of it too, y'know."

I held my hand out across the table. He looked at it for a moment and then placed his hand in mine. Caleb wasn't the biggest guy, but it was still a sharp contrast to the last few days, with his bigger male hand holding my smaller feminine hand. It wasn't a romantic gesture, just a close one. A supportive moment between friends. Especially if one of them happened to be a girl.

"Do you think that was the future that we saw?" he asked.

"I don't think that place shows you the future. I think it shows you what you wish the future was like."

Caleb nodded. "So, was that my wish, or your wish, or...ours?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "It's funny. I always figured I'd take Prodigy's name after he retires. Which, with my luck, will probably be a hundred years from now. But until now, I never really stopped to think about the person I might be when that happened. I mean, on some level I guess I thought I might become a male hero, but at that point I'll probably have been Prodigious Girl for years. You don't just walk away from something like that."

Caleb took an unsteady breath. "You know," he began, "you don't have to be Prodigious Girl. I don't mean give it all up. But you changed yourself to look like her. You could become a male hero. Now. If you wanted."

"Yeah. I mean, the only reason I did this was to trick Prodigy, and that's...done. There's nothing stopping me but me. And if my current dilemma with Christie has taught me anything, it's that every minute I stay like this, I'm digging myself deeper into a hole."

"Except...?" he prompted.

"Except this doesn't feel like a hole. It feels like a home. I like being Chris. I like being Prodigious Girl. I think I resent Christie not for who she is, but being her feels like closing the door on Chris, and I'm not ready to do that."

I searched his face. "I don't know if I can say this in a way that doesn't sound crazy, but this—being Prodigious Girl— makes sense. I don't know why, but it does. It's probably the only thing in my life that does make sense right now."

I gave him a sly little smile. "Well, maybe not the only thing," I teased gently. But then I looked at him more seriously. "Caleb, why didn't you say anything to me?"

He slowly pulled his hand away. "I tried. That would be the whole 'unraveling of reality' thing."

"I'm serious."

"Chris, I love you. Okay? There it is. I don't know how else to say it. I mean, I always liked you, but this isn't that."

"Caleb, you love Prodigious Girl. The big boobs, the big hair, the pretty face, the short skirt. I get it. Every time I look in the mirror, I have to remind myself I'm seeing my own reflection."

"I think...that'd be easier. On both of us," he agreed. "But you saw what I saw. If you're not feeling it, I get that. But don't tell me that's all it is. We both know better."

Caleb licked his lips as he thought. "Y'know, I saw some video of myself as Hissyfit. It was—" He paused, embarrassed. "—it was when I was trying on a bunch of dresses in the dress shop."

I didn't do a very good job at hiding my amusement.

He smiled and nodded gamely. "Okay, I need a little more time and distance before I'm able to look back on that and laugh. But Trixie has plenty of photos and videos that I'm sure she'll be happy to show you. My point is, if you were paying any kind of attention, you could tell I was a guy. Or a tomboyish girl, anyway. As Hissyfit, I was pretty, and I looked good, but I was also...off. People noticed. And as soon as I saw the video, I could see it too."

"That's hardly anything to be ashamed of," I said.

"You don't get it. It's not about me, it's about you. From the moment you became Prodigious Girl, you were never like that. Or even dressing up as Christie, for that matter. You slipped into being a girl without thinking of it."

I wasn't sure I was comfortable with the direction this conversation was taking. "What, you're saying that I really am a trans girl? That I'm just in denial?"

He shook his head. "No, because as Chris, you're...Chris. Even if I haven't seen much of him lately. I get why you want to keep him in your life. But you are so much more than you think you are. So, yes, as Prodigious Girl, you're stunning. And I hate to break it to you, you're really pretty as Christie. And you're handsome as Chris. But you're also smart, and funny, and selfless, and thoughtful, and kind of a dick when you've got that righteous indignation going."

"Paladin," I said, feeling a smile tug at my lips.

Caleb stood up and slipped around the table so that he was seated right next to me.

"Yes. And I don't love one of them, I love all of them. And yes, you should one hundred percent be allowed to be the person you want to be. I want that for you. But when I hear you talking about discarding Christie like yesterday's trash, it hurts. Maybe she's part of you going forward and maybe she's not, but she helped get you where you are. She deserves better."

He was so close now. As I looked into his face, I felt... I wasn't sure what I felt.

I laughed a little. "Did you get your ears pierced this weekend?" I asked, noticing the tiny hole and remembering the dangly earrings that Hissyfit had worn to dinner the night before.

"Chris..."

"You were really pretty yesterday," I said to him, causing him to blush at the compliment. "Actually, you were really pretty all weekend. That was for me, wasn't it?"

Caleb didn't say anything, but I winced a little. "Sorry," I told him. "You'd think I might have pieced things together when you wore the bikini."

He nodded. Then he managed a smile. "Who would have thought a year ago that one day you and me would be comparing who looks better in a bikini?"

"It's me."

"Oh, yeah. No question."

"Caleb, this is a lot to process. I don't know who I am, much less who we are. You're my best friend. I don't know what to say."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, I'm glad you did! I—" I sighed heavily. "You know, I didn't appreciate this until just this moment, but Prodigy and I have something else in common. Neither one of us knows how to ask for help. And I need help. I don't know how to be the person—these people—that I'm becoming. And I owe you an apology, too. I blew you off and threw myself into that arena stuff."

"It's hardly your fault, Chris. Besides, I totally get why you did what you did."

I scoffed. "I wish you'd explain it to me."

"Chris, your life is out of your control. You bounce from one crisis to the next. You're bringing new meaning to the term 'gender fluid.' Your favorite character got turned into a girl by a kangaroo."

"For the record, I wasn't the one who brought that up this time."

"It's like you said, that business with Streetwise was the cherry on top. You thought gaming was a safe space where Chris could still be Chris. Then all the girl stuff caught up with you there, and you got reminded how your friends see you."

I gave a plaintive sigh. "I think I liked this conversation better when you were telling me how awesome I am."

He laughed. "Okay, fine. So then, in the arena, you got noticed for doing something that you were really good at. Not for how you look, not for being Prodigy's sidekick. People were looking up to you, cheering for you. You got to be a jock, and when has Chris ever gotten to be a jock?" He then tilted his head toward me. "And not for nothing, but my personal feelings aside, Prodigious Girl as a jock was really hot."

I felt myself blush.

"I'm kind of a mess right now," I said.

"I love that about you, too. From the outside, you heroes always seem to have your stuff together. It's kind of reassuring to see how messed up you are."

I sighed and leaned to the side so that I was leaning on him with our shoulders touching. "I know what you want from me. But I don't think I can give it to you. Not...right now, anyway. I'm sorry."

He gently touched my chin and turned my head so we were looking right at each other.

"Chris. I don't know who you're becoming. But whoever you become is going to be amazing. And I'm really lucky to be here with you as you sort it out. We don't have to solve this today. I'm not going anywhere."

I started crying as I fell into a hug. "You asshole, you made me cry."

"Yeah. After a few days as a girl, I've learned your soft spots. I know all your secrets."

I wiped my eyes and sniffled as I leaned against him. "Caleb, if I tell you something in confidence, do you promise not to make fun of me?"

"God, yes, of course. What is it?"

I took a tremulous breath. "It's just...it really bothers me, okay? And I know it's stupid, but it's not stupid to me."

"Chris, are we still talking about—"

"Streetwise got turned into a girl!" I sobbed. "He got turned into a girl by a kangaroo!"

Caleb, to his credit, said nothing. He just held his hands out invitingly. I threw myself into his arms and he held me supportively.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I-It's like a metaphor!" I sobbed.

"I understand," Caleb said. He had a funny tone to his voice.

"You promised not to laugh!"

"I'm not!" he said as he held me. "Yep. Yep, just let it all out..."

THE END

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The dangerous and enigmatic land of Elsewhere will be returning in Darkness Falls. But in the meantime, enjoy a peek at what's known about this strange and magical island chain...