At last, an update! The trials and tribulations of summer are responsible for the lateness of it. The kids are home from school, we've been traveling a lot and spending more time outside, and this chapter was such a bear. It got so long I had to cut it in half. More housekeeping, or Lair-keeping. I am trying to move the action along, but all these characters keep butting in.
Originally I thought I'd have Megamind store the dehydrated cubes of dead bodies in plastic baggies to prevent accidental re-hydration, but mollyscribbles of tumblr gave me a better idea: store them in Tupperware containers! They are stronger and more secure, a much better choice, really. Labelled with post-it notes, of course, for identification.
Megamind walked toward the cat along the beam, high in the Lair's ceiling, approximately three stories above his rubbernecking guests. He held out a greasy piece of Spam. "Nowhere left to run, you know," he said. "But look, here's a horrible piece of meat byproduct for you."
Taffy the cat, for such was her name, gave him a baleful look, as if it was his fault she was stuck out there.
"Don't blame me," he said. "You could have run into the basement. Or was that too easy? Been a nice snack for the alligators."
The cat belonged to Doris's grandchildren. April, the eldest, tried to coax Taffy out from behind the crates, but the cat would have none of it, and slunk deeper into the shadows. When Minion pushed one of the heavy pallets aside, she oiled away through some unseen tunnel and reappeared in the main room, where a dunderhead shouted, "There it is!" and lunged, sending her into a run again.
Another mad chase occurred, this time with a large number of people in pursuit, until Megamind was ready to dehydrate everyone in the place. He settled for shouting at them to quit running around like idiots right now.
The cat bolted up the stairs to the catwalk, and without hesitation, leaped out onto one of the ceiling's support beams and trotted along it until a crossbeam forced her to stop, and now here he was, out on a beam barely wider than the average bookshelf, clutching a greasy chunk of meat, trying to bag the stupid cat before she fell and went splat. Because at this height, he didn't think landing on her feet would help much.
Her orange tail flicked more rapidly. She seemed to be getting agitated, so he stopped at a reasonably close distance and crouched down, holding out the Spam.
Taffy walked over and sniffed at it. He resisted the urge to grab her. One wrong twist of his torso, he'd overbalance and plummet. "Come on, fleabag, don't be a pain, come to papa."
As if she were doing him a favor, she hunkered down and ate it, then sniffed at his hand to see if there was any more. She rubbed her chin over his knuckles and meowed.
He ran a hand over her back. "Think we gave 'em enough of a show?" Carefully, he picked her up under her armpits and drew her close. She kicked for a couple of seconds until he got his other hand under her back legs and then she settled.
He stood up and waved, to a smattering of applause. As he walked back, the cat began purring.
"Don't expect me to fall for your cute act," he muttered. "Rotten little troublemaker."
Below on the ground, Roxanne had her eyes covered. "Tell me when it's over."
Minion patted her shoulder. "It's okay, Miss Ritchi, he's got her. See?"
Roxanne lowered her hands, then immediately covered her eyes again. "Jesus, Minion, the only thing he's holding onto is the cat!"
Minion glanced from Miss Ritchi to Sir. "He's been up higher. You've seen him up on ledges and roofs and stuff. Way higher."
Roxanne grimaced behind her hands. "That was different," she muttered, feeling foolish. She couldn't explain it, but watching Megamind stroll along a narrow beam as casually as if he were on a sidewalk was worse than all the times she'd seen him flying, falling, or shooting through the air during those failed battles. Then, there were brainbots around to catch him, or even Metro Man. Always some kind of safety valve or escape hatch. Or so she'd assumed.
This time he'd ordered the brainbots away, and she didn't see any safety line. It was a spur-of-the-moment cat retrieval.
"Why didn't he dehydrate the cat?" she said. "She was stuck out there, an easy target."
"He still would have had to go out to pick her up."
"Or sent a brainbot."
Minion was quiet for a few moments, thinking it over. "Well, yeah, but then she'd be a total maniac again when she got re-hydrated. Besides, this looks cooler. Walking the beam, daring cat rescue, people love that stuff. He figured he could do it, so... he did."
"Hmph," Roxanne snorted. "Showmanship beats out common sense." What was she going to do about it, scold him? She supposed she ought to trust him to know his abilities and limitations, but this sure looked like an unacceptable risk to her. Was this an example of typical male stupidity, or his aptitude for showing off? Or had he been in so many life-threatening situations that he was no longer a good judge of dangerous behavior?
Minion touched her arm. "He's on the catwalk now, Miss Ritchi. Behind the rail and everything."
Roxanne exhaled.
Megamind came down, boots clanking on the stairs, and grinned at her. "Mission accomplished."
"You could have gone to get a rope," she said.
"What for, a lasso?"
Roxanne gave his shoulder a little shove. "You know what I mean." And he did know what she meant, she could tell by his too-innocent smile. "Don't think that little stunt impressed me."
He pretended to be shocked, eyebrows shooting up and eyes widening. "I never gave it a moment's thought, Miss Ritchi."
He looked so comical she couldn't help but smile. She held out her hand for the cat to sniff. "At least you both got down safely."
He couldn't stop grinning. The cat purred and closed her eyes in contentment. Taffy didn't seem to mind the spikes on his arms. Her fluffy body lay over the knobbly bits without any apparent discomfort.
The other guests crowded around, their eyes lit up as if they'd never seen a cat before. Unbelievable. People dying all over the place, everyone gets sappy over a damn cat.
Doris made her way through, using her sharp elbows as leverage, with two of the cat-smuggling grandchildren in tow. Gently but firmly, she pushed them toward Megamind. "What do we say?" she said.
Timmy and Chloe, staring at the ground, mumbled words that might have been "Thank you, Overlord."
Doris gave Timmy a little nudge. "Um, can we have our cat back now?" he mumbled. She prodded him again. "Please," he mumbled even more quietly.
Megamind gave Doris a cold look. She smiled brightly back, daring him, just daring him to break the precious children's hearts.
'The cat has to go,' was what he should say, but somehow he wasn't saying it. He had to, right away, rip the band-aid off and get it over with. He realized he was petting the cat's back and made himself stop.
This was impossible; he couldn't have a cat running around the Lair, getting into things. But he hesitated, and Doris, that opportunistic evil old woman, moved in for the kill. "She went right over to you. She knew you were there to rescue her."
He snorted. "It was the food. She came to me because of the food."
"I think she likes you. Listen to that purr."
"You do realize she will be a drain on our meat reserves? And that we could be eating cat food ourselves before long?"
"Oh, she won't eat very much. Certainly less than your alligators."
"What they eat isn't fit for human consumption." Especially if what they ended up eating WAS humans. It depended on if he caught any wrongdoers.
"We went for a walk outside and she trotted right up to us. You could tell she was somebody's pet. The children had... I mean have, two cats and a dog at... at home." Doris's glasses began to fog up. She stretched out a gnarled hand and stroked Taffy's ears. Timmy ducked his head and wiped his eyes. Chloe hung on her grandma's arm and stared at Megamind somberly.
Doris had two daughters and sons-in-law, the grandkids's parents, and all were missing. Their homes had been empty, no people or pets to be found.
Megamind sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "You'll have to keep Taffy in a cage until I can get the brainbots to accept her presence without going nutso." He handed the cat over, and Timmy enfolded her in his arms. The children's faces broke into timid smiles.
"But this is it! There will be no more pets!" he announced to the room.
Doris blew her nose on a tissue she'd fished from her pocket. "Once you get those nasty robots under control, Mr. Overlord, I'm sure there will be no trouble," she said with a sniff.
He retreated to his now-private bathroom for a long overdue clean-up. As he shaved his goatee back into shape, he paused to examine his reflection.
He touched his lips. These lips had touched Roxanne's. His life had irrevocably changed. He could still feel the tingle of the kiss, and he got goosebumps remembering her teeth running lightly over his lip.
He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes with a groan.
She'd just finished saying she thought they better sleep in separate places, implying that physical contact ought to be put on the ol' back burner until later, and then he practically threw himself at her. She'd just gotten done saying...
Okay, don't flip out, he told his reflection. His advances couldn't have been that unwelcome. There was the ...the teeth thing, and he was one hundred percent certain that if Roxanne didn't want him to kiss her then she would have made that very clear. Painfully clear, most likely.
He sat down on the toilet lid and put his head in his hands. Was he even any good at kissing? Did he dare ask?
He'd probably broken half a dozen relationship rules already, rules that any decent, proper, normal boyfriend would have known, those unspoken social rules that everybody knew, and she was probably wondering what the hell was wrong with him and regretting her decision to shack up with a freak.
He pummeled his temples a couple of times, to shake free of the death spiral. If nothing else, he simply hadn't had any time to screw things up. Give him a day or two, hell, give him a few more hours, he'd be sure to mess something up.
Roxanne was a straight talker. If she said that she liked him, then she meant it. It was a disservice to her honest, upright character to hunt for ulterior motives. Banter aside, Roxanne Ritchi did not mess around with people's feelings. Not that he doubted her, not really, but...
But why did she like him? He didn't even like him. He was selfish and arrogant and ee-vil, always yelling at people and scaring them, and kidnapping her and tying her up. He was all kinds of wrong.
He'd better be careful not to take anything for granted. He knew she didn't quite feel as strongly about him as he did about her, but he was okay with that. There was no reason to cause her distress over his insane desires.
Feeling fortified, he double-checked to make sure there wasn't anything caught in his teeth and marched out to face the next crisis.
It turned out that there were no immediate disasters pending, so he assisted Roxanne in setting up her editing station. He already had the equipment she needed, so it was mainly a matter of providing her with her own work space. He hung a curtain to make a hideaway next to the monitors, an off-limits area so people wouldn't be constantly peering over her shoulder.
He often kept the main curtain that divided the monitor station from the rest of the Lair partially closed for this reason. At least it cut down on traffic, and steered people in other directions, whenever he was struggling to find a shortwave frequency that hadn't been blocked by the military.
His uncles' cots were just on the other side of the curtain, though that didn't always stop Uncle Sid from offering loud unwanted advice and making jokes about using carrier pigeons.
Damn, that's right, he was supposed to talk to his uncles about moving into that private room. Since no one else seemed inclined to use the rooms anyway, he was willing to overlook it, except Doris would get on his case.
Roxanne nudged him with her elbow. "Hey, you okay in there?"
He chuckled apologetically. "Oh. Um. Just a lot on my mind."
"Want to talk about it?" She leaned her hip against the table.
"I was wondering why no one wants even temporary use of those rooms. It seemed like a good idea at the time."
She scratched the back of her neck. "We-e-ell, I might have heard a comment..."
"What?" he said, as she hesitated.
"Some people think that there might be cameras in there."
His jaw dropped. "Seriously?! People think I'm..." He clapped a hand over his eyes. "I give up. People are crazy."
"I was wondering if I could set up an interview space in one of them, bring in a few chairs, maybe take the bed out. I want to get as many interviews as possible, so people can tell their stories. Say, did you really have an idea for a newsworthy piece, or was that just an excuse to talk to me in front of my friends?"
"Ummm," he said, rubbing his own neck and smiling ruefully. "Didn't have a specific idea, not right that second, but I knew I'd come up with one pretty soon."
"And have you come up with an idea?"
"I want to collect the dead, who lie unburied in the no-man's land."
Her smile faded. "By the army barricades? That's too dangerous. Megamind, they'll shoot you."
"Not if I do it the right way. I'll take precautions. Not the usual show with fireworks and laserlights. I'd prefer that they don't actually open fire, so I'll be as unprovocative as possible. Wave the white flag of negotiation."
"And you really think that will stop them from shooting." She crossed her arms over her stomach, her voice hardening and chin lifting.
He crossed his arms, too, feeling defensive. "Guard duty is incredibly dull. No matter how highly charged the situation, boredom and carelessness creep in, especially if nothing's happened for a long time. No one has tried to crash the barricade in weeks. And most soldiers are probably not very happy about being ordered to fire on fellow Americans. They may be unwilling to shoot, at least right away."
"May be unwilling. That's a big qualifier, Megamind."
"This will be a great photo-op!"
"What, getting your head blown off?"
"I've spent a lifetime NOT getting my head blown off, Miss Ritchi," he snapped. "I think I know what I'm doing."
They stared at each other. Megamind looked away, feeling as though a hot rock had fallen into his stomach.
It would make such a fantastic news story, the new Overlord of Metrocity, showing his concern for all his citizenry by collecting the bodies of the unjustly slain. A stark contrast to the brutality of the army and the government that commanded them, a slap in the face to the ones in power, as well as a statement to the rest of the world that Metrocity was alive and kicking.
He could even make a plea for food and medical assistance, Maybe it would shame the government into doing what it should have done weeks ago. It wasn't like he'd be swooping in with guns blazing.
He felt his chest constrict. He didn't know why she was mad at him all of a sudden.
Oh no. He was totally screwing it up already. Just by being himself. He should have guessed.
Was it too cold-hearted, collecting the bodies and describing it as a photo shoot? He did care that people had been killed, it pissed him off, but he just hadn't had time to do anything for those poor souls left to rot on the highway, not when there were so many other things he had to do.
Roxanne walked across the small space toward him and he tensed, certain that the next words out of her mouth would be, 'This isn't working, Megamind. I don't think I like you that much after all.'
"Tell me you're not doing this to impress me," she said, her eyes searching his.
He blinked. He hadn't expected that. "No, of course not," he said, frowning. "I mean, well, maybe a little, but this... this will work, I know it will. I could try to sneak in to retrieve the bodies under the cover of night, but I think they'd be more likely to open fire if they discover someone sneaking around than if I walk up openly. They will be curious, they'll want to find out what I have to say. And there will be very conspicuous camerabots visible."
"They're jamming us. And they know they're preventing all signals from getting out."
"Ah, but the presence of the cameras will make them uncertain. Has Megamind figured out a way to get around that pesky jamming, they will wonder? Are their actions being broadcast worldwide? Doubt and curiosity will be my allies."
Roxanne reached for his hand and said, "I hope you have more precautions than that."
His heart skipped a beat and he squeezed her hand. "Invisi-shield," he said. "Should deflect bullets."
She bit her lip. "I couldn't stand it if you put yourself in danger just to impress me. I don't want to lose you."
Relief flooded through him and he seized her other hand. "Thank the evil gods," he blurted. 'I don't want to lose you' sang through his veins. "I thought you were about to break up with me."
Roxanne let out an incredulous chuckle. He took a few moments to kick himself for several blunders. He said, "Um. I-I mean, if there was a relationship. To break. Then. Yeah, um."
Merriment danced in her eyes. "Megamind, we kissed less than an hour ago. This was a little spat. You think I'd break up with you just because we had a disagreement?" She rubbed her thumbs over the backs of his gloved hands.
He only just managed to stop himself from kissing her hands in gratitude. Why was he so damn needy? "I'm a little new at this," he said, and mentally bludgeoned himself again. Oh real smooth, moron. Might as well have 'virgin' tattooed on my forehead. At least I could have turned a kiss on the hand into a suave gesture.
Roxanne said, "I think disagreements are going to pop up once in a while. But hey, we're used to that, right?"
He huffed out a breath, and the tightness in his shoulders went away. "Well, there's no one else I'd rather argue with." Oh, that was pretty good. Light, not too heavy, and perfectly, perfectly true.
She smiled. "Me too." She began to move a little and he sensed she was about to go back to her work station.
"May I kiss you?" he said quickly. "I may have taken... you know, earlier... taken a liberty." A hopelessly out-of-date old-fashioned virgin from the Wild Flowers series, he thought. There should be enough room on his giant head for the full tattoo.
She could have teased him for being a dork, and he would have totally deserved it, but instead she draped her arms over his shoulders. It felt quite natural to put his hands on her waist.
She looked away for a moment, then back into his eyes again. "Do whatever you have to do to save the city. I trust you. But I expect full disclosure about your so-called precautions." She raised her eyebrows and gave him a tremulous smile. "Get ready for more arguments, probably."
He swallowed. "Full disclosure. Absolutely." His gaze darted to her lips, and he felt that heart-hammering sensation of being pulled in as if by powerful planetary forces, or supermagnets. But he didn't want to assume...
Her gaze was gentle. "Megamind, you can kiss me whenever you want."
He angled his head toward her and their lips met. He even tried a little nibbling action of his own. Roxanne's tongue darted out, quick and wet.
Her warm body, soft and firm and curvy in all the right places, leaned against him. He wished, for once, that he wasn't wearing gloves. He flattened his hands and ran them up her back, feeling the outline of her shoulder blades.
There was a distant crash, a raised voice.
I will not look around, he thought furiously. Minion can handle it. Roxanne had stiffened a little in his arms, but she, too, seemed determined to ignore whatever melodrama was happening beyond the curtain. The crook of her arm tightened around his neck.
"I think he went in here," a voice said. The curtain was jerked back. "Oh, I'm sorry!" the voice giggled.
Anger and frustration and embarrasment shot through him. He almost pulled away from Roxanne, but then defiance took over. He was through caring what people thought.
He turned slightly to face the intruder, but he kept one arm wrapped around Roxanne's waist. "Yes, Britney?" he said through his teeth.
Britney tossed her hair. "Um. The dishwasher sprung a leak, I think?"
"There's three plumbers and at least one repairman around here, and I have to look at it? Where's Minion?"
Britney ran a hand through her hair. "I think he went to the basement? To check on something? Some guy slipped in the water and, like, his leg's broken or something?"
Megamind sighed. "I better go see what..." He stopped, startled by the look on Roxanne's face.
Jaw tight and nostrils flaring, she stared at Britney with a hard, flinty look, as if she was about to issue the 'kill' order to one of her camerabots.
But then she smiled at him, though the smile was brittle. "Yeah, you better go check." She put her hands on both sides of his face and pulled him in for a firm kiss that left his knees weak, then she sat at the table and flicked on the screen with a sharp movement.
He had to catch his breath. He could feel every imprint of her fingers from where they'd lain on the sides of his jaw and cheeks. The tips of her fingers had brushed his throat, sending sparks pulsing right into his spine. He swallowed, looked once more at her stiff back, then headed out toward the kitchen, wondering if he'd made another mis-step.
Britney! Roxanne seethed. Now she knew the hair-swisher's name. She was really pretty too, beauty pageant pretty, with a heart-shaped face and that long hair. Little, petite, shorter than Megamind, whereas Roxanne thought that if she and Megamind were bare-footed, she'd top him by a noticeable margin.
She purposely did not watch Megamind leave with Britney flouncing after him, because she was not an insecure, jealous person who felt the need to keep her man on a leash. She wasn't in the habit of viewing other women as rivals. She was a feminist, damn it.
Oh. Her man. Her heart fluttered. She was Megamind's girlfriend. She felt unbalanced and a little scared, quite frankly, because she didn't trust herself. Though she kept talking about taking it slow, somehow she kept falling into his arms whenever they were alone.
But those eyes. Those vulnerable, hopeful, puppy-dog eyes. She'd seen many emotions on that expressive blue face over the years, but he'd never looked at her like that before. When he asked to kiss her, she hadn't wanted to say no. She wanted him to hold her and kiss her and nuzzle and...
She pressed a hand to her overheated cheek. God, she had it bad. She'd told him she liked him, but he hadn't said it back. Which shouldn't bother her. It really shouldn't. Judging by his actions, he liked her, too. She remembered how he held her tight when Britney came barging in, and told herself that he couldn't possibly be interested in anyone else.
As Megamind headed for the kitchen, the sensation of her touch lingering, he tried to shake the feeling that he'd done something wrong. Roxanne had assured him that they were, in fact, in a relationship, and not to let little disagreements make him think she was about to break it off over some little thing.
Was this a little thing? Whatever it was? Probably. In fact, it didn't seem like she'd been mad at him, so that was good.
Britney said, "Thanks for coming so quick, Overlord. You are so busy."
He shrugged, wondering why she'd tagged along.
Or maybe Roxanne just isn't into public displays of affection. Yes, that was probably it. He perked up a little. She was angry that someone had barged in on their private moment. Maybe he shouldn't have held her so close after Britney came in. He would be more discrete, it wasn't like he was some kind of exhibitionist.
His insecurities, always looking for an opening, dug in their claws. Or maybe Roxanne just doesn't want to be seen with YOU.
That one shot right into his heart, but incredibly, he was able to strike back with a counter argument. Just because she doesn't want to make out with me in front of the entire world means nothing! Clearly, she values privacy. Besides, she planted that last kiss on me right in front of a gawker, which proves that...
Britney touched his arm. "I love what you've done with your place."
He moved away, thinking she'd accidentally brushed against him. What kind of comment was that? Britney had only arrived recently, it wasn't like she'd ever been in the Lair before. "Yeah, wall to wall refugees. Just what I've always wanted."
She laughed, sudden and loud, and he flinched. "Oh, you're so funny, Overlord." And curled her hand around his elbow.
Once was an accident, but twice? He jerked his arm away and faced her. "Is there a problem? Did you trip?" he snapped.
She stepped back, eyes wide and startled. "Oh. Um. Sorry." She giggled, twirled a lock of hair around her finger, and tilted her head. "You need to relax."
His frown deepened. This was the message so important that she needed to grab his arm? He didn't care for that overly familiar knowing smirk she was giving him, either. What business was it of hers? "Well, maybe you need to learn how to walk."
He stalked off, now thoroughly annoyed, because his pleasantly confused feelings concerning Roxanne's touch had been sullied. It would probably be wrong to dehydrate every other human being in the Lair so he and Roxanne could have some private time, but he was giving it some serious consideration.
"Who's hurt, and where's that damn doctor?" he asked the people loitering outside the kitchen.
Dr. Plant came out of the kitchen. "The damn doctor is here," she said calmly. "Upton hyperextended his knee. It's not serious, but he needs to keep it iced and elevated, and he could use some ibuprofen. Where do you keep your medical supplies?"
"In my medicine cabinet. And I am all out of ibuprofen, acetaminophen, and aspirin."
"I won't be of much use without supplies."
"Don't you have anything? What about that giant bag you hauled in?"
"That was my purse," she said frostily. "I'm not in the habit of carrying a pharmacy around on my back."
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can see that a special expedition is in order, but now that you're here, there's another matter I need to address. How's your patient?"
After Upton was made semi-comfortable on a floor mat with his leg propped on pillows and an ice pack on his knee, Megamind brought Dr. Plant to the locked room that served as the morgue.
"These are all dead bodies," he said, waving his hand at the stacks on the shelves.
"And in Tupperware containers, I see," she said.
"Best way to keep them dry so they don't accidentally re-hydrate. Many were zombified, others were devoured, some of them more thoroughly than others. I need death certificates for them. Because from an objective standpoint it might not be good for me, legally speaking, if outside authorities invade my Lair and discover a bunch of corpses sitting in a storeroom."
Dr. Plant nodded slowly, turning to look at the cubes. "Yes, I can see how that would be a concern."
"In addition, everyone is searching for their lost friends and families. And some of them might already be here. If their faces are... presentable, then photos should be taken of them and displayed. In a catalog, maybe, or a computer database. Very few have identification."
"Yes." Dr. Plant nodded. "I will do my best to determine cause of death. The zombification process could make that difficult." She frowned thoughtfully. "I'll need some assistants, to take photographs and fill out death certificates."
"Way ahead of you. Minion is hunting for likely candidates."
"Maybe two certificates for each zombie. One to verify zombification, and one for actual cause of death."
"Oh, that one will be easy enough," Megamind said. "For zombies, it always comes down to brain damage."
He went back out, wondering what to tackle next. For once he was too tired to pace, so he dropped into his swivel chair and turned his back on the bustle of the room. When he was hidden by the high back of the chair, people were more reluctant to disturb him.
His brain buzzed from weariness and the emotional upheaval of his new romantic affiliation.
Imagine that! He was Roxanne Ritchi's boyfriend. From behind the curtain came the click and tap of dials and switches as she worked, and the muffled sounds of her recordings.
He wanted to sit quietly and let the reality sink in, the marvelous reality of her living presence and the miracle of their new relationship. He wanted to bask in the warmth of this wonderful, cozy, uplifting feeling, and think about those lovely smooching sessions, and when might be a good time to have another one, but the sheer number of pending disasters was overwhelming.
Reluctantly he turned his mind toward the innumerable crises. Instead of flying around on individual expeditions, picking up people here and there, it might be better to locate survivors, but let them stay where they were, if they were dug in. He could send the brainbots out on daily food deliveries.
And where would these magical food supplies come from? He ought to start more rooftop gardens, and establish an outside link. No quarantine this big could possibly be completely sealed up. If there weren't already a few black market pipelines by now he would be very surprised. The main problem was finding them. The chaos in the city was so extensive he had lost contact with his usual informers.
He also needed to maintain what was left of the city's infrastucture. Since they still had water, there must be some extremely dedicated employees at the water treatment plant. And what about the other side of the equation, the sewage treatment plant? They'd really be up the creek if that konked out.
Aaargh, he needed to get to one of the hospitals, too, or a medical supply store, for Dr. Plant. A lot of plants needed looking after, ha!
It was while he was sitting there rocking in the chair and trying to decide which way to jump, that Minion came over to him. Noelle trailed sullenly in his wake, along with another new arrival who had come with the group he'd rescued the night before, a man with an equally sullen face and wire glasses, dark blond hair hanging limp over his forehead, and a ragged beard, as so many men had these days.
"Good news, Sir!" Minion said. "Noelle used to be a photographer for the police department. That's how she met her husband, there was this murder, her very first, well, not hers, you know, she didn't do it," Minion chuckled. "But she was called in and that's how she met Hank, because..."
"Great. Fine. Good job, Minion," Megamind said briskly. "Not squeamish, then."
Noelle said, "I've seen lots of dead bodies, even before the zombies. But what's the procedure? We just need a little water to re-hydrate them, but then you'll have to dehydrate them again."
He pushed to his feet and walked over to the cabinet. "This is my original de-gun," he said, bringing it out. Not with the original binky power source, though, that was safely housed in his current de-gun. "It has a single function, dehydration. After Dr. Plant's done her exam, you've photographed the face, and an attempt has been made to ID the person, she will dehydrate the corpse again."
He locked the little de-gun up again. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he detected a gleam in Noelle's eye.
Perhaps a warning was unnecessary, but...
"It'll be coded to respond to Dr. Plant's fingerprint signature. And only Dr. Plant's," he said, directing his remarks to both Noelle and the sullen man, and to anyone else who was in earshot.
No sense antagonizing Noelle by singling her out, but if he could think of how useful the de-gun would be to quietly remove someone from the picture, then so could any other reasonably bright person. Noelle might have a very big grudge against her hubby. And against Jessica, her hubby's girlfriend.
He still did not feel at ease with sharing his tech. Some of it was very dangerous in careless or untrained hands. The de-guns were special, more personal than the laser rifles, and so, so easy to misuse. He didn't have any particular reason to trust Dr. Plant either, for that matter, but keeping it down to one user would make it simpler.
"Now, who's this, and what's his specialty?"
"This is Barry," Minion said.
"Bernard," Bernard muttered.
"Oh, right, sorry. He worked at the DMV for a while, and in the archives of the Metro County Historical Society. So he's got lots of experience with paperwork."
"Not death certificates," Bernard said. "Like I said."
"As long as you can keep things organized and fill in the blanks, that's all I require," Megamind said.
Bernard narrowed his eyes, and Megamind stared back with a stony gaze of his own. Bernard seemed to be expecting some additional response. "Anything else?" Megamind said, a little too sharply.
"It's the beard, isn't it? I don't usually have a beard." Bernard crossed his arms. "You really don't know who I am, do you? Either of you?"
Minion glanced at Megamind. "Uhhh, should we?"
"Don't keep us in suspense," Megamind said.
"Bernard Jacobs," he said. His brow wrinkled even more when Megamind failed to shout in amazement.
Bernard gave a disgusted snort. "The foremost authority on... well, on you, and every other supervillain in the tri-state area."
Megamind allowed a skeptical eyebrow to rise slightly. "You're the expert on me. As in, all things Megamind."
"Yes!" Bernard cried, flinging out his hands. "Two articles published in Meta-Powers Quarterly? My blog, 'The Alien Among Us'?
"Never heard of it."
Bernard shook his head. "With your ego, I can't believe you haven't been following every article and post written about you."
"Once I vanquish the zombies and get the city back on its feet I'll be sure to look up this blog of yours, Bernard, first thing. Minion will get you set up with a serviceable laptop and software. You found a decent camera for Noelle? Good. Printer's over there."
Minion said, "Here, eat this, Sir," and held out a container and a water bottle. "You missed breakfast."
For one stomach-turning moment, Megamind thought there was a zombie cube in the Tupperware, then he blinked, and it turned into a sandwich. "Ah, sustenance," he said, a little too heartily, and grabbed the container and bottle with hands that shook just a little.
Light-headed, he went back to the monitor station. He mustn't let it overwhelm him. He had to be strong. He'd give himself five more minutes to rest, then he'd put together a crew to accompany him to the city.
Bernard had followed him. "Can I just say something? You need to be better organized."
Megamind, who had been about to sit down again, paused with his hand on the arm of the chair, and turned slowly.
Minion coughed. "Uh, hey, Bernard, let's get you started on..."
"No, no, I want to hear what Bernard has to say," Megamind said. A feral smile stretched out his lips. "What, exactly, needs organizing?"
"The brainbots, for one thing. Do you have to recall them every time you let a new group in? Wouldn't it be more efficient to have one brainbot take a snapshot of each person and relay that information to the others?"
Megamind felt his entire face stiffen. "It's not as simple as you think, Bernard. The brainbots aren't used to hordes of people flocking into the Lair. They need time to get used to the idea."
It was inefficient, and he had been planning on changing his methods to one very similar to what Bernard had just proposed, now that the brainbots and brutebots appeared to have adjusted to the crowds, but he was damned if he'd let this know-it-all think it was his idea. "Anything else?"
"Yeah, the chores roster. Hardly anyone knows who's on what job until you or Minion tells them. I've heard several arguments about whose turn it is to clean the restrooms and whose turn to clean the sleeping areas. And this guard duty. They say you've got some kind of rotation going, but nobody knows when they're on it until you start yelling at them. It's confusing. Who was called up for duty at the last zombie attack? Who..."
Megamind interrupted. "Kevin, Nina, Riley, Georgia, Hank, Midori, Luke, Alice, Kurt, and Upton."
"Well, okay, but what about the time before the last..."
"That would be Bonnie, Lenny, Sid, Luis, Gabby, Alex, Paula, and Arnold. Want to know about the time before that?"
Bernard blinked at him, and cleared his throat in mild embarrassment. "Oh yeah. Eidetic memory."
"Very good, Bernard. You're the expert."
Bernard flushed. "But my point is, no one else can keep track of when they're expected on the front line. It's stressful, not knowing. If you had a chores roster posted somewhere..."
Megamind waved his hand. "Oh, fine. You get everybody's name, and write it up. Guess you're the sub-manager, answerable to Minion."
"And what's the pay?"
"Excuse me?"
"How much are you going to pay me?"
Megamind's brows slowly drew together. "We're in the middle of a zombie apocalypse and you want a paycheck."
Bernard pushed his glasses up his nose. "Money still works, doesn't it?"
Megamind was about to tell him where he could shove it, but several people around the room had stopped what they were doing and were listening to the exchange. There was the sound of the curtain drawing back, and he looked over his shoulder. Roxanne was watching. As he met her gaze she shrugged one shoulder as if to say 'it's up to you, buddy.'
"If he's getting paid, I should be too," Noelle said indignantly.
Megamind gave Bernard a sour look. Just moved in and already sowing dissent.
If he refused outright, it would look like he was being a cheapskate, or else people would start to look at his rescue mission as recruitment into a slave army after all.
He took a deep breath. "Think about this carefully. The banks are closed. Sure, I could break in, take the money, and dole it out, but what then? Where are you going to keep it? Hide it in your blankets? Under a convenient rock by the wall? I'm not going to waste time, energy, or people on keeping the banks running."
People glanced at each other, their hopeful faces becoming somber.
Even Bernard looked crestfallen. "Oh. Well, I... I'll take an IOU, then. For when things get back to normal." He sniffed. "I trust it'll be soon."
Megamind's lip curled. "You're not related to Doris Haggerty by any chance are you?"
"Who?"
"Never mind." He propped his elbow on one hand and cupped his chin with the other. I doubt that anything will ever get back to normal, he thought, but he didn't say it. It sounded like one of those morale-crushers that Minion was always warning him about. It was painful sometimes, seeing how desperately people wanted things back to normal. Hell, he did too, if it came to that.
He glanced at Roxanne again and she smiled.
He blushed. There were maybe a few things he hoped didn't change back.
He turned to address the room at large. Practically everyone had sidled over to get within hearing range. Rumors of possible paychecks had spread through the place quicker than the virus. "If these IOUs are issued, and I'm not promising anything, then there will also be deductions for room and board. And maybe I'll even take out a few taxes," he added, in a sudden surge of inspiration.
He smiled ee-villy. Ooo, it felt good being the Overlord.
Minion scratched his dome. "Isn't that like... taxing yourself? There's no outside revenue coming in. It'd be like..."
"Don't ruin the moment," Megamind snapped. "Someday there will be real taxes again, once the city reconnects to the outside world and we get the economy kicked into gear. So there."
One of the guests hurried over to Minion and said something to him in a low, urgent voice, but Bernard was talking again.
"I have some other ideas for improvements," Bernard said. "Let's set up a meeting." He pulled a notebook out of his inner pocket and flipped it open. "What's your schedule like? How about we plan a..."
"Hold it right there, Poindexter," Megamind said. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't have an office, there aren't any cubicles, and surprisingly, no human resources department. I'm not going to sit around looking at slide presentations, because, once again, I would like to bring it to your attention that we are in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. If you want to fill your days with schedules and duty rosters and spreadsheets, go right ahead, but don't think for one second," he growled, and jabbed a finger at Bernard, "that you can tie me up with red tape. It's a complete waste of time."
Bernard stood stiffly, unmoving, then he pressed his lips together in a thin line and closed the notebook. "Fine," he said with another Doris-like sniff. "How about a suggestion box? It's the least that..."
"Over your dead body. Your job will be to work with Noelle and Dr. Plant, and fill out those certificates. And get your duty roster started. Don't pester me with these petty details. IOUs are going to have to wait until I can decide how much should be paid for each job. I'm not getting paid, does anyone ever think of that?"
He rounded on Minion, who had been hovering anxiously at his shoulder. "Other than Bernard, nothing terrible has happened for the past five minutes, so we're overdue. What is it?"
"Sir, there's no water. Turn on the taps, nothing happens. And..."
"Oh, great. There's an 'and.'" Megamind strode across the room. "I want four people with firearms experience ready to go to the water treatment plant, now! So what's the 'and' part, Minion?"
"The sewer might have backed up."
"Of course it has."
It was KBJones who suggested that people are wary of fooling around in the private rooms because they're afraid there might be cameras. I admit I was playing it for laughs, but her idea makes much more sense.
