I wonder how long a drive it is from Worcester?
    "Best of luck," she wished us. "Do you think that Victor's still there?"
    "Victor was still buried, wasn't he?" I asked Scott.
    Scott hedged a bit; it's always hard to tell with people like this, what with that weird tree over the grave site, and so forth.
    "You had them burn the tree down, right?" Stevie woke up suddenly.
    "Yes, but that seemed a little out of his normal purview as well."
    "The tree got burned down, you got the skeleton, they encased the skeleton in lead, Digger burned the body—he's gone!"
    "Unless he had a backup copy of him in one of those tubes someplace."
    "Don't say that... I don't want to know that!"
    "Those things are pretty easy to build these days."
    "Back-up bodies are easy to build?!"
    "Well, yeah, actually," I muttered.
    "His grow-a-zombie tubes," Scott clarified. "You can get the parts to build one of those in practically any decent supply shop."
    "Oh my God..." Stevie groaned.
    "I figured maybe I could find out where they're getting supplies to keep using these things? I can't, they sell the stuff everywhere."
    "Scott, you're making Stevie's head hurt," I suggested, noting the vein throbbing in his forehead. I'd swear he was enjoying this if I didn't know better.
    "Stevie don't worry, you don't have to outfit yourself with a trowel and go heading off, we have professionals here," Molly assured him.
    "This is not funny!" Stevie snapped.
    "We always joke in the face of these things; we're villains. And heroes," she added with a wicked smile.
    "Well, we sidekicks generally just have our veins throb."
    After a few silent moments she changed the subject. "Has anyone else gotten invitations?"
    "To?" Scott asked.
    "There's a Halloween party being thrown."
    "Where?" The rest of us shook our heads; no invitations lately.
    "Why, no, and I would have thought they would have invited one of the greatest actors ever to walk on stage."
    "Yes, you never can tell, there, Larry," she murmured. "Apparently it's just for a different social circle. Brandeis McCaulley's holding a Halloween party at the Top of the Hub."
    "Oh, he was the one with the big boat!" Scott recalled.
    "Oddly enough, no, we didn't get an invite," I told her wryly.
    "I'll let you know how it is; Mr. McCaulley's Halloween parties are usually rather elaborate from what I've heard. I don't know, I might allowed a date... does anyone have a good Halloween costume?"
    I entertained a few unkind thoughts about the decadent rich.
    "Oh, speaking of costumes," she added, glancing over at me. "Pierre's finished them, they're being made right now."
    Great. Just great.
    "Do you know if he's finished my Halloween costume?" Scott asked.
    "He said so, yes... I'm going to need an escort," she decided. "It would be wonderful to have one of the premier superheroes of Boston on my arm."
    "I'd be honored," our robotic teammate replied at his most gracious.
    "I'm taking a page out of the Greek, I'm going to be going as Medea. Anyway, your costumes are being made right now, they're going to look stunning on you, just stunning."
    I think I looked pained.
    "Have you seen the sketches that he's done for them?" she asked the others. "I have them here with me...."
    "What a surprise," Larry drawled.
    I considered hiding under the table.
    "I personally think the red... not so much," Molly was commenting. "She insisted on the black, but he felt that different colors would be good. He's designed in here for additional support through here...."
    "Support for what?" I wondered. There's not much of me that could require support under any imaginable circumstances.
    "You never can tell."
    "What, I might get pregnant?"
    "Not with the life you've been living lately, young lady."
    True that it would require a literal miracle. I suffered in silence as she explained the way the lines would drape more flatteringly, the brilliant touches of color, the clever use of arachne fiber reinforcement to that being hit with a flame gout or something similar would leave my modesty intact.
    There were six people in that room discussing how to make my chest look bigger—what modesty?!

| Top |