10. The Lovely Bones
After her training for the afternoon ended, Susan headed back to the monster command centre and lay down on her couch with a long sigh.
"You beat?" Link asked, loping over to her along one of the access platforms that ran above the couch.
"Yeah, but not physically; mentally," Susan groaned. "All this military history stuff is so, so damned boring!" She laid her giant tablet on the table carefully, as it was far weaker, relatively, than a normal tablet. She'd had to learn that she couldn't just casually toss things aside any more, as falling from her height often broke them. "Anything on TV?"
Link shrugged. "There's a 49ers game, but they're losing, so I turned it off."
"Even the cheerleaders couldn't keep you watching?" Susan asked with a grin.
"Nah. It's just not the same when I can't chase them.".
Susan laughed. "Yeah, last time, they chased you. That was hilarious. Hey, where's my remote?"
"Where you left it, by Bob's jungle gym."
"Thanks." Susan twisted around and stretched out a twenty foot-long arm. She flipped the on switch, and started cycling listlessly through the channels. Then she heard her name mentioned.
"…Ginormica's rampage throughout the peaceful town of Modesto yesterday was just another example of why the government and the military cannot be allowed to let this beast loose. In fact we have reports of a new monster, a mutated pumpkin creature that some sources are claiming is the latest military experiment, while others are pointing to it as the inevitable result of genetically modified foods. Monsanto has refused to comment. However, like the last government experiment, the creature known as Ginormica, it has already got loose and terrorized innocent people. In addition to the deaths of innocent children, these monsters have once again caused millions of dollars of property damage."
The video, a very shaky iPhone feed, showed Susan crashing down into the garage, then was replaced with a clip of the house that the head pumpkin had smashed its way out of.
The view switched to a middle-aged lady, with three children behind her.
"She came out of nowhere," the woman was saying. "No warning! This massive thing, this hideous freak of a human, was just let loose, tonight, with all our children outside! What if she'd stood on one? We all know what she did in Vegas! How dare the army do this!"
"Scenes of devastation from the latest monster rampage," the announcer added as the camera panned over flattened cars and piles of mutant pumpkin guts. "First Las Vegas, now Modesto. When will it end? When will these dangerous monsters finally be locked up for good, somewhere where they can never harm our children?"
Susan's mouth fell open. "They're… they're blaming us!?" she gasped. "But – but we stopped that thing! It wasn't a monster, it was a—a creature! A thing! An alien thing! We stopped it! How could they have thought—?"
"You seen one monster, you seen 'em all," Bob suggested.
"We're not! We're not monsters! Not like that! How dare they?" Furious, Susan kicked the base of the central command unit, leaving a large dent in the thick steel.
"I'm guessing they just want someone to blame. And we're it," Cockroach said, coming out of his quarters.
"I'm it, you mean," Susan fumed. "Look at that!" She gestured angrily towards the screen, which was still showing the news programme. The banner beneath the video read "Fear and Devastation as Ginormica Rampages Through California Town." The image was now showing her sitting down by her grandparents' home, covering her face as Monger shouted at the camera crew.
"We have unconfirmed reports that General Monger, leader of these monsters, is himself not human, but a part-alien cyborg. Has the military ceded control over these monsters to another monster? The Mayor of Modesto and the Governor of California have both stated that they intend to formally protest this use of Ginormica and the other military monsters," the announcer was saying. "The Joint Chiefs of Staff at the Pentagon have promised to review the deployment criteria for the monsters to ensure public safety and security."
Cockroach's expression changed to one of worry. "Hmm. I don't like the sound of that."
"What do you mean?" Link asked.
Cockroach shook his head, and looked away. "For the moment, I'd prefer not to say. It's probably just paranoia, after all. Change the channel, Link."
Link flipped over to another channel, which was also showing a news broadcast.
"We've had enough!" someone said on the television. Cockroach glanced around and saw an elderly man being interviewed. "The government lied to us about the Gulf of Tonkin, it lied to us about 9/11, and it lied to us about aliens! And now they're lying to us about these monsters, claiming that they're here to protect us. Call this protection?" he finished, sweeping his hand over a scene of destruction, with a road full of debris.
"If that's protection," the announcer said, "then perhaps the cure is worse than the disease. Ginormica has caused major damage each time she has been let loose: destroying the Golden Gate Bridge, wrecking a train carrying nuclear waste, laying waste to much of the Las Vegas Strip, and twice crashing huge alien craft, one of which caused extensive damage to farms on the outskirts of Modesto and the other of which belonged to a friendly species, seriously jeopardizing our planet's future security."
"I can't believe they let her out among normal people again. After all, she's locked up now for what she did in Vegas," the other reporter said. "And I say they should just throw away the key, keep her down in that so-called secret base for the rest of her life."
"I agree," the announcer said. "For the sake of all of us, and especially our children."
"Shut it off," Cockroach hissed, his face furious. Link quickly changed the channel to ESPN, and Cockroach looked up at Susan, who had her hand over her mouth.
"Oh, my dear, are you all right?" he asked.
Susan wiped her eyes, and nodded. "I guess. I should be used to this by now."
"Nobody should be used to being attacked for saving people," Cockroach told her firmly.
"Why is it always me that they attack?" Susan asked in despair. "Why me? I wasn't the only one out there the other night?"
"Well, um, there was… uh… possibly because you have been in the news more than the others," Cockroach said, choosing his words with care.
"Or hey, maybe you just stand out more," Link told her with a shrug.
"Yeah, I stand out," Susan said, tucking her knees under her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs. The position, Cockroach noted, that she often took when she was feeling vulnerable and afraid—as if she wanted to make herself as small as she could, as far away from the giantess as she could.
"I know there's not a lot I can say to comfort you," he said. "I wish there was. I wish I could pretend that this will all blow over, that none of this matters; that I could just tell you to ignore what people say about you. But it's never that easy. No one, unless they're completely sociopathic, truly does not care what others think of them. And I do know what it is like to be hated."
"We all do," Link added quietly.
Susan sniffed, and sighed deeply. "Sometimes… I mean, I think I made the right choice, I know it did—I'm not regretting my decision. I think I'm a better, stronger person for it. But sometimes… I do wonder if I would have been a happier person if I'd stayed small. If the quantonium had never come to me. Maybe not better, but… happier…."
"Please, my love, don't say that," Cockroach said.
"What about you, Jacques?" she asked, glancing down at him through tear-filled eyes. "Wouldn't you have preferred to live a normal life, without being a monster? Wouldn't you be happier?"
Cockroach looked at her, and hesitated. "I regret what I have done in the past as much as any man can regret his actions. I wish I could undo the evil I have caused. Yet I am selfish enough to know that I would not change a thing in my life, because it has brought me you."
Susan reached out a five-foot hand to Cockroach, who held it gently. She let her fingertips play over his arms, his torso, his head, barely touching him as he in turn caressed her huge fingers, each the size of his legs.
"You're what keeps me going," she whispered, bending low. "You always have been. You're my rock, my anchor, my guiding light."
"Hey Doc, you're a lighthouse!" Bob called.
"Quiet!" Link snarled. "Sorry, don't mind us! Go back to being soppy!"
Susan sat up again. "Way to ruin the mood, guys," she said, smiling slightly. "Don't worry about it." She bent down again, one hand behind Cockroach's back, and kissed his face. "And thank you, my darling sweet mad scientist."
"I hope you feel better, my love," he said.
"You make me feel better, just by being here," she told him. "What does the world matter to me? You are my world."
"And you, my love, are the supermassive black hole at the centre of my galaxy," he told her. "Uh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean supermassive in, er, that sense. I mean… you're… um…. "
"Really attractive?" Susan asked, giving him a coquettish smile. "That's very sweet. And I think—"
"Hey, Susan, can you turn my iPad on?"
Startled at the interruption, Susan turned and saw Renee drifting out of her room.
"Sure, no problem. Where is it?" she asked.
"In my room—you think I could bring it out with me?" Renee asked, holding up her useless hands.
"Sorry, I wasn't thinking," Susan said. She looked over at Cockroach, who bowed his head towards her.
"Look after our new friend," he said. "Some new and fascinating garbage has been delivered, so I shall be in my lab."
"See ya," she said with an embarrassed smile. "Don't destroy the place, okay?"
"My iPad?" Renee asked.
"Sorry, yeah." Standing up, Susan bent over and pressed her fingertip against the door activation plate for Renee's room. The door hissed upwards, and she peered in. "Hey, it looks pretty nice. That's really cosy."
"I guess," Renee said with a shrug. "The army works fast, I'll admit. They did it while you were in school. It's not quite the same, of course, but… well, pretty much everything's there. It'll do. It's still a bit weird, what with the sloping walls and everything, but I guess it's better than it was."
"You're lucky everything's still the right size for you," Susan said, the faintest trace of envy in her voice.
"And you're lucky you can touch things," Renee shot back. "My iPad, please."
"Sorry," Susan said. She spotted the device sitting on Renee's desk, and gently pinched it between her finger and thumb to pick it up. Placing it carefully in her other palm, she used the edge of her little fingernail to press the power button.
"Thanks," Renee said. "Can you open up iTunes?"
Susan looked down at the icon, a fraction the size of her fingertip. "Jacques, could you help, please?" she called.
"Of course, my dear," Cockroach said, scuttling down the steps and over to them. "How may I be of assistance to two lovely young ladies?"
"We need some delicate fingers," Susan explained, holding the iPad out between her fingertips. "Renee can't touch it, and my hands are too big."
"Great whacking man hands, yeah," Link joked. "Times a million."
"They are not!" Susan retorted. "For the last time, I do not have man-hands! I'm a girl, petite and sweet! Got it, buster?" she finished, grabbing Link in her huge hand and holding him at her eye level as she glared at him. He stared back at her for a few seconds, then burst out laughing as Susan set him down again.
"What's so funny?" Renee demanded.
"Nothing," Link said. "It's just that it took Miss Hands here a while to adjust to not being so petite any more."
"Maybe, but I'm still sweet," Susan grinned. Then her expression turned serious. "Look, Renee, it's not your size, or your shape, that determine what you are. It's what you feel inside. When I'm nice, I'm nice because it's how I feel. When I'm… not nice, it's also because of how I feel, not what I look like, or how big and strong I am."
"Is this the program you wanted open, my child?" Cockroach asked, holding the tablet so that Renee could see it.
"Yeah, that's the one. And please don't call me a child," Renee said. "I'm not."
"Ah, um, of course not, my dear."
"And knock that off too."
"The, uh… my dear? I was only trying to be polite, my… uh, Renee."
"Yeah, well, you sound sexist and patronising," Renee told him. "I'm not your dear."
"Hey, Renee, Doc's not trying to be rude. He's English, and grew up in a different society," Susan said.
"Maybe, but it sounds weird to me," Renee said. "Who the hell speaks like that these days?"
"I hope… I hope you never found it offensive, my… Susan," Cockroach said, looking at her nervously.
"I found it really sweet," she told him with a broad smile, caressing his antennae. "You're like some old-time courtier from a fairy tale, or something by Jane Austen. I think it's very romantic."
"Romantic, him?" Link scoffed.
"Yes, him," Susan said firmly. "And you don't need to know just how romantic he can be. Oh, Jacques, is there some way you could fix up Renee's tablet so she could work it herself?"
"Why, I, er, I'm sure a voice-operated application would not be too hard. I do have some experience in computer programming, after all. Yes, it shouldn't be too hard. I'll have to borrow somebody's iPad, however. No, not yours, my dear—uh, Renee. I shall obtain one through my own, er, channels."
"Great, I'm glad all that's settled," Susan said happily. "Won't that be great, Renee, being able to use your iPad whenever you like?"
"It'll be an improvement, I guess," the young girl said. "Thanks, Doc. I owe you one," she added, looking sideways at the scientist.
"In the meantime, I would like to run a few further tests on you, if you don't mind," Cockroach said.
Renee shuddered, and faded slightly. "I don't like tests. I don't like doctors."
"Why ever not, my… why ever not, Renee?" Cockroach asked. "They're just there to help you, make things better."
"They pretend they can help you. They pretend they know what they're doing. And then they can't do a thing, and someone dies," Renee said sullenly. "They don't make things better. They didn't make my mother better."
"I am so sorry, Renee," Susan said, as Cockroach's antennae drooped.
"Indeed. I never meant to… to…" Cockroach said softly.
Renee shrugged. "Yeah, I guess not. I just don't like doctors."
"Would it help if I said I wasn't that kind of doctor?" Cockroach asked. "I'm not a medical doctor, I'm a scientist."
"A mad scientist," Link added, not looking up from his newspaper.
"Do you mind?" Susan shot back. "Look, Renee, he's not a medical doctor, he's a—a genius doctor, and he would never hurt you. Ever. I promise."
"What does he want to test, then?" Renee asked, looked suspiciously at Cockroach.
"Just some simple physical parameters," Cockroach explained. "Radiation signatures, heat, energy output. To see why the air gets so cold when you, uh, materialize. To see if there isn't some way we can transform your energy into kinetic motion—let you move or touch things. That sort of thing."
"And these won't hurt?" Renee asked.
"Absolutely not," Cockroach said. "Totally passive scans. That is, I'm not even going to expose you to any high-powered electromagnetic radiation."
"You better not! Radiation? Are you trying to kill me?"
"Shut it, Link!" Susan snapped as the fish-ape chuckled from behind his newspaper. "Renee, electromagnetic radiation just means things like infrared or radio waves."
"Precisely, my dear," Cockroach said, beaming at his pupil. "All I want to do is understand what you are, so we can help you adjust and cope."
Renee looked up at Susan. "Will.. will you stay with me?"
Susan nodded. "Of course. Don't worry. I'll be with you as long as you want."
Renee spent the next night in her own room, but did not appear for breakfast. In response to Cockroach's polite inquiry, she simply stated that she was sleeping in. Susan had an essay to read before her next class, so after the morning meal she lay back down on her sofa to tackle it. The topic, the role of leadership in the modern military, was not entirely holding her interest, and she let her mind wander. She found herself thinking about their new companion, wondering what was going through her mind. She thought back to her first days here, and how distraught she had been. In some ways, she realized, Renee was handling this better than she had. Perhaps it helped to have no one left on the outside, no life to return to….
"Hey, Susan. Can I ask you something?"
The giantess turned, spotting Renee standing on the living platform. "Morning, Renee. How are you? What's the problem?"
"Have they… uh, decided a date?"
"Sorry, a date for?"
"Dad's… my father's funeral."
"Oh, yeah, sorry," Susan said, taking her seat. "Uh, the General told me it'll be tomorrow evening, in the base chapel."
"Why here? Why not in Modesto?" Renee asked. "Then my friends could come too."
"Not sure," Susan admitted. She looked over at the lab area, where Cockroach was quietly working with some brightly-glowing chemicals that gently bubbled and popped even though they weren't boiling. "Doc? Do you know why?"
"I'm afraid that the general had to bring your father's body back here for an autopsy," Cockroach explained.
"What? I don't want him chopped up!" Renee gasped, glowing bright with rage.
"Er, an autopsy is pretty standard, my dear," Cockroach said, startled by the sudden burst of light. "It's important to determine the exact, ah, cause of… um..."
"Death," Renee spat. "You just want to see if he was killed by the aliens. Of course he was! So was I! I suppose you collected my bones too and are studying them in your secret labs! Admit it!"
"Uh, I, er, I…" Cockroach stammered, coming down to join them. "I assure you, my dear, we are treating your remains with the greatest possible respect."
"Come on, Renee, we couldn't just leave your father there," Susan said. "Or, um, you… I mean, your, er, remains. The Doc'll make sure they're taken care of very carefully. I know he will."
"Oh indeed, without question," Cockroach said, looking up at the giantess with an expression of sorrow on his face. "And we will have a proper funeral service for him, I assure you," he added to Renee.
Renee looked down at her black dress. "Guess I'm already dressed for it." She sighed. "Dad said I should wear this on Halloween, when serving customers. I was supposed to look like a little witch girl. I ditched the hat, though. That was silly."
"It's actually not a bad dress, you know," Susan said. "I'm sure your father thought you looked very cute in it."
"I didn't," Renee said in a distant voice. "I hated it. And now it's all I have, for the rest of my life. Or my death…." She fiddled with the hem for a few moments, then looked up at Susan. "Did he mention... I mean, did the General mention anything about, you know, my, um... funeral?"
"Oh!" Susan put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. "I—I don't know. I didn't ask. I… I'm not sure there'll actually be one."
"Why not?" Renee demanded.
"Well, because you're still… still sort of alive. Mostly. I guess. I'm sorry, Renee, I really don't know. I don't get to make those decisions."
Renee wiped her eyes. "I suppose you're right. I am sort of mostly alive. I think. I see. I talk. I just don't eat or breathe or anything." She wrapped her arms around her, rocking gently back and forth. "And I can't touch anything, or anyone…."
"All right, what are you two moping about?" Monger asked as he landed on the platform and retracted his lifting jets into his torso. "Can't stand moping. Makes my… uh, my pistons stick."
"We're not moping," Renee muttered sullenly.
"Uh, General, were you going to have any sort of, um, memorial service for Renee?" Susan asked.
"What for? She's not dead. That is, she's not totally dead."
"Well, can I at least see myself?" Renee asked, staring at him.
"Sure. Got a mirror, Ginormica?"
"No, I mean see my… remains," Renee said. "I need to see them."
"Yeah, she needs some sort of closure, General," Susan told him. "And she wants to see her father, too."
Monger scratched his chin, then nodded. "Very well. I was going to talk to Cockroach about something, but it can wait. Follow me."
"Susan? You coming?" Renee asked as Monger lifted off.
"If you want me to, of course."
A short while later, Susan and Renee followed Monger into a large, well-lit room. It reminded Susan a great deal of the room she had discovered Nancy Archer's remains in, and she felt some unpleasant memories stirring, rising up from her subconscious. She pushed them down again, and concentrated on looking after Renee. This couldn't be easy for her. Susan remembered how she had felt when her maternal grandmother died a few years ago—she couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose a parent. Let alone two.
"General Monger sir!"
A young doctor saluted as Monger landed.
"Dr Galen?" the general asked.
"General? How may I be of assistance?"
"Where are the remains of Miss Geist?"
The doctor pointed. "Over there, sir. On that table. I've never seen such a neat job of excarnation—it's really quite lovely."
"Are you ready for this, Renee?" Susan whispered.
"I guess so," came the reply.
Susan looked around, but couldn't see the young girl. "It's okay," she whispered to the air. "You can stay invisible. Sometimes I wish I could," she added as Galen stared up at her. She gave him a nervous little wave with her fingers, and bent down carefully to the table he had pointed to. It was covered with a black velvet cloth, and lying on it, carefully arranged, was a small human skeleton, the pale bones stark against the dark fabric.
"Is… is that me?" Renee's voice whispered in her ear.
"I guess so," Susan replied quietly.
"What have you found out?" Monger asked the doctor.
"Well, sir, with Dr Cockroach's help, I've been working on a way to scan for any non-human residue—we think that if she was killed by the aliens, as seems likely, then there should be some energy signature in her bones."
"Do you know how she was killed?" Monger asked.
Galen shook his head. "Some form of extremely high-intensity radiation that just disintegrated her flesh instantly, leaving her bones unmarked. No idea what, yet, sir. We had a team out by the farm, scanning the soil for anything. We found a few anomalies, but no idea yet what they mean."
"But they are alien?"
"Oh yes, sir. Nothing matches any known energy signatures from Earth. And there's no correlation with Ginormica's readings either—whatever did this, it wasn't anything like quantonium."
"I could have told you that," Susan said. "I mean, Renee's not nearly fifty feet tall, after all."
Galen glanced towards the skeleton. "Poor child. To be killed so young." He looked back at Monger. "We're treating her remains, and her father's, with full respect and honour, sir. As you ordered."
"Good," Susan said, shifting to a kneeling position. "Because Renee wouldn't like it if you didn't."
"Yeah, because I might decide to haunt you," Renee's voice added, and Galen jumped.
A sudden drop in temperature signified that Renee was turning visible again. The dead girl materialized standing right behind the doctor, who shivered and moved away nervously. Renee snorted, and drifted over to the table. She put out her hand, her fingers nearly touching her skull, then snatched it back.
"Strange," she said. "To think that that's me, lying there. It doesn't seem real, Susan. Not real at all."
"I'm not surprised," Susan said. "I mean, it's bones. It doesn't look like you. It could be anyone's bones."
"It's not, I assure you," Galen said quickly. "DNA testing confirms her identity."
"I didn't mean that," Susan explained. "Renee, do you want some time alone?"
The ghost shook her head. "I don't think so. I don't feel… anything, really. It's just bones. Like some a dog dug up from the yard. It's not me. I'm here, I'm this… not that."
"Are you all right?" Susan asked.
Renee looked up, and gave her a slight smile. "I actually feel a lot better, thanks. I don't know what I am, but I know those bones aren't me."
"Would… would you care to see your father?" Galen asked. "We have, er, made him presentable. He looks, uh, normal now."
Renee glanced up at Susan.
"Only if you feel up to it," Susan told her.
"I think I do. I think I should see him," Renee said softly.
"This way, Miss," Galen said, leading them to a large set of cabinets to one side. He opened one, and slid out a drawer. A figure lay on it, covered in a white silk sheet. "Are you sure?" he asked Renee.
The girl nodded. "I want to see him. I need to."
Galen glanced at Monger, who nodded. Susan shifted her legs awkwardly, trying not to bump into anything. Then the doctor lifted the sheet, and Renee suddenly vanished.
"Renee? Renee sweetie, it's okay," Susan called. "Renee?"
"I'm here," Renee replied, and Susan could make out a pale, flickering form standing beside Farmer Jeb's head. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
"Take all the time you need," Galen told her. "I'll be over there, waiting."
"Fine," Renee said, not looking up. Stretching out a ghostly hand, she tried to caress her father's cheek, but her fingers just skittered through his skin. "Oh Daddy…. I miss you so much. I love you. I'm sorry I yelled at you about this stupid dress. I shouldn't have got mad at you. I suppose you're in Heaven now, with Mommy. If you are, I wonder if you know I'm dead, too? Maybe you're wondering why I'm not up there with you. Do you think I'm in Hell? Please Daddy, don't think that. God, please don't him think that. I'm still here, Daddy. I'm here, but I'm going to join you soon. And then we'll all be together; you, me, and Mommy. It'll be just like it used to be, and we'll be happy again. I promise. I promise, Daddy. Daddy…."
...
WORD'S NOTES: The title's a blatant pinch, but I've justified it in context. I hope.
"I'm a girl, petite and sweet!" is from the MvA video game – playthroughs of which are available on YouTube. This is from the introductory bit. The game itself doesn't actually look that interesting, but does confirm (assuming it's at all canon, which I rather doubt—but perhaps the intro part can be) that the common room walls are made of thick steel. However they appear to be concrete in the new room in the Mutant Pumpkins short.
Dr Galen is named after Galen, the Roman physician who was one of the most influential medical researchers in history. No reason for this name. I just like referencing real history and facts….
"Excarnation" is the practice of removing flesh from bone, usually for burial.
And, having given Renee some closure, we can start to move on with the main plot. I hope it won't be too long before the next chapter—I am seriously busy these days, and okay, I admit, I'm reading too much Frozen fanfic, and have even started writing my own. But Susan remains my favourite, and I won't neglect her. Or any of my readers that haven't already decamped to Arendelle….
REPLY to Dlh024:
1. Yes, we most certainly are going to see new aliens. They will play a key role in the plot, don't worry.
2. Seen Meatballs 1, not 2 yet. No particular desire to do any fics on them though: they just didn't have any characters I connected with enough. After this, I'm going to be doing some things for Frozen, actually. Elsa is the most fascinating animated character I've seen since Susan, and I really want to explore her.
3. Ummm. Not quite. There is no "energy released from our bodies when we die," still less "energy" that is drawn to other people or places (you can't just toss around the term "energy" like it's some mysterious plasma or ether: there are all sorts of different energies, and physicists have good ways of detecting and measuring them-"energy signature" like in this story is just an SF trope I've used). You may be referring to some famous experiments conducted over a hundred years ago which weighed a few people immediately before and after death, and sometimes recorded a minute difference, which was explained at the time as being the soul leaving the body. All attempts to reproduce these methodologically unsound test results have failed, however.