It was the first of February, the day before my birthday, and I was walking home from my afternoon class at Old Main when I noticed a white van in the parking lot of the First Holistic-Humanist Congregation of Cass City. This wasn’t just the usual white van belonging to the residents, my friends the Y+Thems, which was always there, but a second van parked alongside it. On the side of this van were the words Inter-faith Church Healing for Hopeless Liabilities, and there was a dumpster unceremoniously plopped down next to it that ICHHL workers were quickly filling with debris.
“Oh, no,” I said to myself. “What now?”
I looked for my adoptive father’s red pick-up, but it was nowhere to be seen. Presumably, Daddy was on another, more important job for ICHHL; this squad was the away team. Still, it looked like the scene of an emergency. I walked across the lot and got to the side door of the residence just as Soren Sneed, with an armload of debris, emerged.
“What on Earth happened?” I asked.
“Biff, that’s what happened,” said Soren, snorting through his saber-toothed muzzle.
“You mean Kiddo’s little tyke?” I asked. Biff was her nickname for Benjamin Franklin Phloog.
“Little, but packs a mean punch,” Soren growled. He walked past me and unloaded his burden into the dumpster and clapped the dust from his saber-tooth tiger paws. “Biff went to town on the nursery this morning, flinging cribs and rocking chairs around like they were balloon toys. Did quite a number in the community hall, too, where the film society holds their sixteen-millimeter art cinema series on the weekends. Screen, projector, half the seating—doesn’t look like there will a screening tomorrow night. At least Kiddo was able to contain him before he got to the kitchen and pantry—that would have set the food bank and Eats on Feets operation back for weeks, something this distressed community can ill-afford.”
For months, I had heard Avie and Kozmik Kat separately complain about living in the church residence with the Y+Thems, but I thought they’d been exaggerating. Even Dana had fled the church for Ann Arbor, but I assumed this had had more to do with Dana’s revulsion toward human reproduction—and her generally anti-social tendencies—than with the behavior of Kiddo’s offspring. In my presence, Ben Franklin Phloog had always been quite docile, but perhaps that was because we were both distantly-related Megatons. Now, I saw the exiles hadn’t been kidding.
“Wow, sounds like he’s getting out of hand,” I said.
“You’re telling me,” said Soren. “We Youthful Permutation have been able to keep him contained and cover up for him so far, but you can only prevent the love child of the Golden Age Megaton Man and a megapowered Y+Thems baby-mama from destroying the world for so long—we’re all at our wit’s end. And Biff’s not even reached his terrible twos yet. Tempy predicts that when that happens, it’ll be lights out. We’re supposed to be keeping an eye on this vintage antique church, protecting it from all the urban threats that surround it. Maybe that isn’t the ideal place to raise a titanic toddler capable of tearing it apart from the inside.”
I was glad my civilian half-sister Avie, who had no megapowers, got out of that living situation while she could. “You think Pastor Enoch is going to evict you?” I asked.
“Pastor Enoch has been supportive above and beyond the call of duty,” said Soren. “But I think at this point it’s out of his hands. The church council and especially the insurance company wants our collective heads on a pike—all of us Y+Thems, and Rubber Brother, too. They say they’re not going to cover any more megahero destruction going forward. Luckily, Jasper contacted the Ivy-Covered Halls of Higher Learning to help us out this time,” he said, gesturing with his clawed thumb at the white ICHHL van. “But our days of the Y+Thems in the North Cass Corridor seem to be numbered.”
My twenty-third birthday gathering in my and Avie’s new apartment the next evening was a rather somber affair. The Y+Them all piled into our basement rec room—which was actually more spacious than our upstairs living room—but nobody felt like doing more than sit on the sofa and sip drinks. No one even touched the hors d’oeuvres Avie and I had prepared, and even the Yes cassette Avie played on her boom box—90125—failed to work any magic.
Only Tempy, who sat on the bench tinkering with Avie’s weight machine, seemed in a good mood. He moved the pin down the stack of weights well past what you’d expect—for a skinny guy, he could lift more you’d think. He laid back and pulled down on 340 pounds like nobody’s business, singing along with “Owner of a Lonely Heart.”
Avie and I were thinking about breaking out the birthday cake before sending everyone home early when Preston clomped down the stairs, shaking off the snow. “I think I have a solution, people,” he said. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”
Tempy eased down the weights and sat up. “What, reinforce the First Holistic-Humanist Congregation of Cass City with neutronium rods?”
“Nothing that drastic,” said Preston, who didn’t bother to take off his coat. He paced in front of us like he was addressing the troops. “You guys obviously aren’t on the lam anymore,” he said, still puffing on the lit cigarette he’d brought with him. “Rex and even Bad Guy know you’re in Detroit, but they don’t seem to harbor any ill-feelings toward you for abandoning their failed start-up team of Youthful Permutations—besides, they’re too busy working on their own separate endeavors. And even in this goofy neighborhood of college students, bohemian weirdos, and perennially under-employed social misfits, you guys stick out like a sore thumb.”
“What’s your point?” growled Soren.
“There’s a property north of here,” said Preston. “Used to be the headquarters of an up-and-coming team of megaheroes back in the seventies. They’ve been AWOL in another dimension for the past five years; it’s just been sitting vacant while the government foots the rent and pays for upkeep. New tenants would solve both problems at once, yours and ours.”
“We kind of feel at home in this neighborhood,” said Kiddo, who was nursing a docile Ben Franklin at her nipple. “We’ve made friends here; Tempy has his hair salon; Soren works as a mascot for the baseball team; I’m taking classes at Warren Woodward. We all like working in the pantry, not to mention the Ditty in the City street fair.”
“You can drop by the old neighborhood all you want, to visit these two,” said Preston, referring to me and Avie. “It’s not that far. But once you see it I think you’ll agree it’s the perfect facility to raise a megapowered toddler—at least you won’t be destroying historic architecture.”
“Three,” said Kozmik Kat, who was reclining in his bean-bag chair. “Everyone always forgets me.” He scowled at the baby, Biff, then glowered at me. “Why is it this kid never misbehaves when he’s visiting with his Aunt Clarissa? Must be the Megaton molecules.”
Jasper craned his elongated neck around some of the workout equipment. “If it’s the place I think it is, it might solve all our problems,” said Rubber Brother. “It can’t hurt to take a look at it.” The Y+Thems murmured their agreement. What other choice did they have?
Avie winked at Koz, and the two surreptitiously slipped upstairs while Preston continued to field questions from the Y+Thems, but the mood was greatly lightened. My sister and the cat had been gone only a few minutes when suddenly the lights went out, plunging the entire basement into darkness. A moment later, Avie reappeared with my birthday cake, replete with twenty-three lit candles that illuminated the rec room, followed by Koz bearing paper plates, plastic utensils, and napkins.
“Now that that’s settled,” said Avie, “let’s wish my big sister a happy 23rd birthday!”
A few afternoons later, Avie, Koz, and I drove up in Avie’s Pacer to a rather corporate-looking glass and steel office park in Troy, a suburban community just north of Royal Oak. From the exterior, the property looked just like any other mirrored window office building, and even from the inside looked like an open-office plan with only bare floors, drop ceilings, and girders encased in concrete every forty feet, surrounded by glass windows.
“The old headquarters of the Teen Idols,” said Rubber Brother. “I knew it sounded familiar.”
“The Teen who?” asked Kiddo.
“The Teen Idols,” said the Phantom Jungle Girl, who had just walked in from the stairs. “I always hated this building. Plate-glass windows are terribly inconvenient; I had to come down through the roof. Sash windows are so much better when you want to furtively ingress and egress in a hurry.”
“Can’t fool the old timers,” said Preston. “Yes, this was the old headquarters of the Troy’s own Titanic Team of Tommorow. Care to explain to your youthful charges who they are, Jasper?”
Rubber Brother looked solemn. “Let’s see now,” he hesitated. “I only had a few adventures with them. There was Herakles, Atlas, Osiris, Artemis, Cyclopes….” He counted on rubbery fingers. “And, oh yes, the Asp. They were s’posed to be the next big thing for a while,” he explained. “They were the hot young group of 1978; then they disappeared. All except the Asp, who’s still around town. Everyone assumed the just got lost another dimension. Like Fanny says, they were forever traversing into other realities.”
“The Asp?” I asked. “She wouldn’t happen to be an Egyptian gal in a gold lamé leotard, would she?”
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“The very one,” said Jasper. “You’ve run into Michele already?”
I sure had—a name like the Asp fit the very description of Doctor Messiah’s teaching fellow, whom I’d seen in a gold outfit in a photograph at the Inland Ocean Archeological and Anthropological Institute, and transfigured with a cosmic, Christ-like baby. But I didn’t mention any of that because I didn’t want everyone to think I’d gone nuts.
“The Teen Idols,” mused Avie. “Are they like the Grand Rapids Five?”
“Nope,” said Jasper. “Completely different group.”
Kiddo, who had brought along baby Biff, allowed the child to crawl around in the big empty space—something I wouldn’t have done, considering who old and grungy the carpeting was. But at least there didn’t seem to be anything nearby for the child to destroy. The space was so vast and empty, none of us had even noticed the large objects off to one side near the windows, covered in sheets, or that baby Biff was now crawling in that direction.
When Kiddo noticed, she let out a cry. “Biff! Don’t touch anything!”
“Outdated computers and lab equipment,” said Preston. “Not likely to be worth much now.”
Rubber Brother stretched across the room ahead of the infant. “The kid may be onto something,” he said, sizing up a rather tall piece of equipment shrouded in a dust-covered sheet. “This item sure looks familiar, doesn’t it, Fanny?” Jasper reached out with elongated arms and pulled the dust covers off, revealing what appeared to be a tall, oval hoop, like a giant prototype for a magnetic resonance imaging machine—only one you could walk through.
The Phantom Jungle Girl leaped across the room, joining Jasper next to the large object. “Sure does, Jasper. This device was some kind of portal,” said Fanny. “I saw the Teen Idols use it to crossover into other worlds on numerous occasions. It’s the very one they probably got lost in.”
“You mean like the Time Turntable?” said Tempy. “Something that will spin you off into different timelines?”
“I’m not sure what the Time Turntable is,” said Fanny, who made a puzzled expression. This wasn’t surprising to me, since the Phantom Jungle Girl hadn’t been with us at the Michigan State Fairgrounds when my biological father and Alice2—the Silver Age Megaton Man and the Mod Puma—returned on a spinning platter. Perhaps she’d never seen the Time Turntable, or even heard about it. “But if you mean a doorway into other dimensions and timelines, then yeah, I guess this would be like the Time Turntable.”
“I saw one of those in the Forbidden Future,” said Koz. “In fact, that’s how me an’ Bing—Yarn Man—were able to get back to the present, finally.” He made an awful hissing sound, like he was trying to cough up a fur ball. “Cover it up again—I hate those things.”
“I remember when the old Detroit Crime Busters went looking for the Teen Idols, but couldn’t locate them anywhere,” said Jasper. “This thing was on, and still humming. One of us grabbed a chair and tossed it through; it vanished without a trace.”
“You mean you didn’t follow them through and try to rescue them?” asked Avie.
“Those mythological characters are always taking unnecessary chances,” said Fanny. “They think they’re immortal.” The Phantom Jungle Girl stuck out her jungle javelin and lifted a sheet that covered some other piece of equipment. “One of these is the computer console that programmed the portal. We brought Rex Rigid in to examine it; he took one look at it and refused to touch it. Nobody could figure out how it worked; we were all too scared to step through it. Even Michele advised against forming a search party—it would be too dangerous. So, we just unplugged the darn thing and left it alone.”
“Unplugged it?” asked Kiddo, who had picked up Biff and was cradling the baby in her arms. “What if they’ve been trying to get back all this time?”
“Kiddo has a point,” Tempy agreed. “A whole team of megaheroes could be out there, floating in the Ether Zone, trying to return.”
“You can plug it back in, if you want to assume the risk,” said Preston. “You can do whatever you like with this any of this equipment. Everything here’s been idle for six years; the software’s probably so old it creaks. The Itinerant Costumed Hero Holding and Leasing Company has been covering the rent on this space all this time. I just figure the Y+Thems may as well be getting some use out of it.”
“But if these Teen Idols ever do return, they’re going to want their old headquarters back,” said Soren. “What do we do then? We’ll be like Goldilocks sleeping in their crib, so to speak.”
“Sabersnag’s right,” said Avie. “Everyone seems to get lost in another dimension, but they return sooner or later. If the Silver Age Megaton Man and the Mod Puma are any indication, the Teen Idols will be back eventually.”
“We belong here,” said Kiddo. “To greet them when they do.”
“That could be a long wait,” said Jasper. “Unless you mean…”
Kiddo was running her hands along the oval sides of the portal, even stepping upon the threshold at the base. “The father of my child is lost in another dimension, don’t forget,” she said, cuddling Biff, who was serenely calm. “This is where he’s going to come back to me, I’m sure of it.”
It hadn’t occurred to me how heartbreaking it must have been for Beatrice “Kiddo” Bryson to witness the return of my biological father, the Silver Age Megaton Man, while her lover, the Golden Age Megaton Man, was still lost in the Interdimensional Rift.
“I’m not so sure,” said Soren. “This building doesn’t look very substantial—just a lot of plate glass, as Fanny pointed out. If baby Biff here goes on another rampage…”
“The glass is reinforced,” said Rubber Brother. “We could have a full-scale battle in here and not put a scratch in it.”
“I think you should take it,” I said. “I think you’re ready for a move like this, as a team.”
“What do you mean, ‘we’?” said Tempy. “This is going to be your headquarters, too, Ms. Megaton Man. We wouldn’t think of founding a new megahero team in Metropolitan Detroit without America’s Nuclear-Powered Hero as a proud member.”
I should have been flattered, but a million excuses leapt to my mind. For one, I was finishing my bachelor’s degree and planned to continue to grad school, which would surely be even more grueling. For another, I was ambivalent about being a megahero at all. And third, I wasn’t even America’s only nuclear-powered hero anymore.
Besides, in the group photograph I’d seen at Doctor Messiah’s lair, there were no Y+Thems in the picture. Maybe I was reading too much into it, but if I was destined to join a megahero team, I felt like it wasn’t meant to be this one.
“How about Clyde and Alice Too?” I said. “The Silver Age Megaton Man and the Mod Puma are the members you want. They’re just sitting idle in Ann Arbor…”
“Actually, Clyde and Alice have accepted an offer to join the Megatropolis Quartet in New York,” said Preston.
Kozmik Kat was surprised. “Professor Rex found a new headquarters?”
“Not exactly,” said Preston. “Nobody in Manhattan is willing to rent to them, claiming zoning restrictions. Although in truth nobody in their right mind wants to rent to a whacky bunch of megaheroes. So Rex and Bing had to settle on the old Navy Yard location. It’s been vacant since these Youthful Permutations left.”
“That crummy place?” said Soren. “They can have it.”
“Alice Too is going to be leaving?” said Avie, almost with tears in her eyes. “But my training with her has been going so well…”
“I’m sorry,” said Preston. “Clyde and Alice wanted to break the news to you, Avie and Clarissa, themselves. When they bring it up, pretend you didn’t hear it from me.”
Avie looked like she was about to cry, but held it back through sheer determination. “Then I’ll join the Troy+Thems,” she declared. “The Wondrous Warhound is as ready as she’ll ever be.”
“Now wait a second,” I said. “First of all, you’re my roommate, as well as my sister…”
“I’ll commute,” said Avie. “I’m not planning to drop out of Warren Woodward any time soon, you know.”
“Avie may still be a little raw,” said Tempy. “But we could use a new team mascot, especially since Kiddo’s graduated to…whatever senior membership title an unwed mother is entitled.”
“Avie can continue her training with us, for sure,” said Soren. “What say you, Rubber Brother?”
Jasper got a funny look on his face. “I’m not sure what my plans are,” he said. “I promised Pastor Enoch I’d stay on at the church long enough to break in some new resident caretakers. After that, I may be headed back to New York myself,” said Jasper. “Or New Jersey, to be more precise.”
“You mean the Devengers?” I asked.
“It’s been discussing it,” said Jasper. “Anyway, you guys’ll have the Phantom Jungle Girl right nearby in Royal Oak…”
Preston was growing impatient. “You guys have a lot to talk over,” he said. “There’s plenty of time. It’s going to take a few weeks to make this place habitable.” He took out a small pocket notepad and began scribbling. “But tentatively, you three Y+Thems will form the core of a new team, with auxiliary members to be named later, okay? In the meantime, I’ll have the Improvement-Construction Headquarter Handlers and Liquidators get started on the rehab immediately.”
When Preston let slip that my biological father and my mother’s counterpart from another dimension would soon be leaving Michigan, I was filled with an inexplicable panic. Not only did I feel personally abandoned, so soon after only recently reuniting with my dad, but I also felt a dread for Simon, my second cousin, whom I felt would be much more vulnerable in Ann Arbor without the Silver Age Megaton Man and the Mod Puma nearby. I needed to go straight to Ann Arbor and talk to Trent; perhaps Dr. Joe could formulate a capsule for him as he had for my father that would enable him to switch from civilian to megahero in an emergency. There was no time to lose.
I had worn my civvies but had brought along my Ms. Megaton Man uniform in my duffel, just in case. Now, it came in handy. I said goodbye to everyone in the new Troy headquarters and left Avie to drive back to Detroit alone. I went up the stairs to the roof, the way the Phantom Jungle Girl had entered, and changed into my costume. I’d hoped to leave with Fanny, because I had a number of questions about the Asp and Doctor Messiah, but she was busy making plans with the new Troy+Thems. From the roof, I flew straight from Troy to Ann Arbor and landed in the back yard of the Ann Street house.
The bushes and trees were still weeks away from budding, but at least it hadn’t snowed. My first instinct was to march into the back door of the house, but then I remembered Stella’s injunction against costumed megaheroes on the premises. So, I slipped through the side-hinged doors of the garage and donned the civilian clothes again, right over my Ms. Megaton Man uniform and right next to the Q-Mobile, which sat cold and idle under its dark tarp. I didn’t bother putting on my winter coat, since I’d be going straight into the house.
I marched up to the rear screen door and opened it. Luckily, the door was unlocked, because I hadn’t brought my key.
“Hello?” I called. I listened carefully for any sound. My sensitive hearing could not detect anyone within the house. I figured Trent would be at work at the bookstore, but I wasn’t sure what Stella’s schedule was, and supposed she might be at class or in a library. I was thirsty from my flight, so I opened the fridge and poured myself a glass of orange juice and downed it.
If nobody was home, I figured I’d drop by the bookstore to see Trent. But first, I thought I’d take a quick look around, before heading over to the bookstore on foot. Honestly, I planned to slip upstairs and see what Dana had done with my old room, snoop that I am. I walked down the hall toward the front door, toward the stairs. I made no effort to be sneaky, so the floorboards squeaked. When I got to the foot of the stairs, I suddenly heard someone snoring. I froze in my tracks.
In the living room to my left, on the sofa, lay a tall, blond man, snoozing, his back toward me.
Trent had slept on the couch when he first arrived in Ann Arbor; since then, he’d gotten his own bedroom upstairs. How strange it was to see him sleeping on the couch again. Maybe Stella and Dana had banished him from the upstairs….
The man stirred, yawned, and stretched his arms. He rolled over on his back.
I screamed when I saw his face.
“Chuck Roast!” I cried.
The Human Meltdown, the man who’d tried to rape my sister, was in Ann Arbor.