The next morning Robert Parr leaped from his bed, full of youthful vigor, his mind razor-sharp, anticipating a happy day of fighting evil and helping customers with their insurance claims.
Then he woke up.
"Uuuhhh..." he groaned. His muscles still ached from the beating he had taken from Anna Konda, a.k.a. Mrs. Hamilton, with whom he now had to be friendly due to the threat of mutually assured identity exposure. His superhuman body was long overdue for a super-recharge, but it was Monday, and he would have to settle for caffeine.
He staggered to the kitchen, dressed in a robe, his eyes half shut. Helen, bright and chipper as always, was preparing a nutritious breakfast of oatmeal and grapefruit. It seemed to Bob that his wife never tired, that pain and weariness only bounced off her skin.
"Where's the paper, honey?" he asked, dropping into a wooden chair that hardly supported his bulk.
Helen smiled and stretched the arm that wasn't stirring oatmeal. It opened the door a crack, slipped through, and retracted, clutching the morning paper.
Bob snatched it from her hand, and began to read. "Hmm, this is strange. Someone returned the stolen bolonium to the laboratory."
"Let me see that," said Helen, distracted from her cooking.
The front-page article stated that the casket containing five ounces of precious bolonium had turned up on Sunday evening in front of the entrance to the very building from which it had been stolen. Furthermore, its contents were unspoiled and still usable.
"Why would someone go to the trouble of stealing a valuable material, only to return it two days later?" Bob wondered aloud.
"I haven't the foggiest," was Helen's response.
Just before she remembered to stir the oatmeal again, a thought flashed through her mind. Edgar, a.k.a. Bald Eagle, had warned her that The Solon needed bolonium to create a Philosopher's Stone--a device that would grant him unlimited power over matter. Could it be that the arch-criminal had succeeded, and had exercised his new power to simply create more bolonium?
----
When Mrs. Parr left Violet at the curb next to Shadowglen High School, Chris was waiting there, book bag in hand, thick hair over one eye. Violet tried to ignore her while walking past, but the blond girl grabbed her arm.
"I told my parents," she said quietly and bitterly. "They grounded me for a month. I hope you're happy."
Violet hesitantly reached out and pushed aside Chris' parted hair, inspecting her whole face for evidence of physical abuse. She found none.
"They didn't kill you," she observed.
"Not this time." Chris let go of Violet's arm, and the two girls walked into the school together. "They say if they ever catch me turning into a boy again, they'll throw me out of the house. I think they're serious."
"That's harsh," Violet remarked. "But I don't see why you would want to be a boy. What's wrong with being a girl?"
"Nothing," Chris replied. "I just have a feeling that maybe I'm not supposed to be one."
"If you feel so strongly about it," Violet suggested, "why don't you just switch and stay switched forever?"
"Because I could be wrong," Chris answered. "Besides, my legal identity is female. I'd have to get it changed, and that would attract attention. Imagine if the tabloids got their hands on the story."
"But you've already attracted attention," Violet pointed out. "Everyone in Metroville knows about The Transfixer."
"Not so loud," Chris cautioned her, glancing about to make sure the other students didn't hear. "If my identity gets out, my parents and I will be in mortal danger."
"Mortal danger?" Violet repeated incredulously. "Are you afraid the superheroes will kill you?"
"It's not them I'm worried about."
Chris refused to say more, and the girls parted ways. As Violet walked toward Mr. Garner's art classroom, she felt once again the sensation of being invisible to all around. Only the girls whom Chris had introduced to her bothered to wave in greeting, and they had little to say.
----
A vast grid of cubicles filled the cavernous headquarters of the Protect4Life Insurance Company. One of them belonged to, or rather was inhabited by, Robert Parr.
While the hulking claims adjuster was studying the case of a family whose house had burned down due to faulty electrical wiring, a message came over his phone. "Mr. Pei wants to speak to you immediately," came the voice of an administrative assistant.
Two weeks had passed since Bob had started at Protect4Life. His boss had paid little notice to him, but this had suddenly changed. He knew he was in deep trouble for some mysterious reason.
Mr. Pei was a short Korean man with horn-rimmed glasses. He welcomed Bob into his office with a smile, instead of the menacing glower that had been the trademark of his Insuracare boss, Mr. Huph.
"I brought you in here to commend you on the fine work you've done," said Mr. Pei. Bob felt compelled to ask why his boss had seen it necessary to demand his immediate presence, but chose not to spoil the moment. "Since you started here, customers have become much more knowledgeable about their rights under our policies. This has led to an increase in..."
As his supervisor heaped accolades upon him, Bob picked up a disturbing sound with his super hearing. It was a cocktail of crumbling bricks, shattering glass, and frightened human screams. It was getting closer.
"You're an example to everyone who works here," Mr. Pei continued. "For that reason, I want to offer you a promotion to..."
"Hold that thought," said Bob, sticking out a hand to silence his boss.
"Wait!" Mr. Pei called to the man of muscle as he hurried from the office. "Don't you want to be promoted?"
Mr. Incredible's super suit was hidden underneath a false bottom in his briefcase. His work area was crowded, so he was forced to change in a public bathroom on the first floor. "I really need to buy a new Incredimobile," he grumbled.
The townspeople cheered with delight as their champion and protector raced down 7th Street toward the disturbance. Ahead of him, the brick-and-mortar wall of a four-story public library was collapsing. Citizens fled in terror from the falling debris and the creature that appeared to be causing the destruction--an eight-foot-tall woman with glowing green skin, bulging muscles, and unruly red tresses. She wore a somewhat revealing costume whose material resembled aluminum foil, and her feet were bare. With each punch she threw at the library's foundation, brick and concrete gave way, weakening the structure.
Three stories above her head, another hero was at work--the winged avenger known as Bald Eagle. The bird-faced man was carrying trapped library patrons from the upper parts of the building to the street below. When he saw Mr. Incredible approaching, he gave the man of muscle a thumbs-up.
Ignoring Bald Eagle's activities for the moment, Mr. Incredible confronted the giant green woman directly. "Who are you?" he inquired.
The colossus replied in a gruff, arrogant voice. "I was once a nuclear scientist, until a reactor meltdown exposed me to powerful omega waves. The accident gave me superhuman strength and an overwhelming urge to repeat my origin story to anyone who asks. I call myself...PLUTONIA!"
"Be careful, Mr. P!" yelled Bald Eagle from the air. "Her body gives off deadly radiation!"
While Mr. Incredible tried to figure out why Bald Eagle had addressed him as Mr. P, a massive green fist plowed into his abdomen, repelling him half a block away and through the wall of an Italian restaurant. The man of muscle recovered his strength and posture quickly, although he felt slightly queasy in the stomach.
Plutonia was hurtling toward him, her face a green mask of rage. Mr. Incredible reacted to the threat by ripping a light pole out of the sidewalk, and swinging it like a club. There was a loud thump, and the green leviathan flew across the street into the ruins of the library. The entire building began to topple just as Bald Eagle flew out of the upper floor with the last two library occupants under his arms.
The blow didn't keep Plutonia down for long. Within moments she and Mr. Incredible were charging at each other. The man of muscle, wanting to end the conflict with minimal property damage, was determined to subdue the monstrous woman by a simple test of strength. They collided with tremendous force, Mr. Incredible's speed and Plutonia's bulk equalizing each other.
Upon regaining their wits, the two combatants seized each other in a grappling match. Mr. Incredible had been a champion wrestler in high school, and still recalled many of the moves intended to immobilize opponents. Plutonia resisted fiercely, but the man of muscle's skill soon rendered her helpless. She lay face down over the white line in the street, as Mr. Incredible bound her hands and feet with the lamp post he had struck her with earlier. He had triumphed--so why was he feeling more nauseous by the second?
Bald Eagle swooped down, wrapping his arms around Mr. Incredible's torso and dragging him away from the fallen green woman. The two heroes landed on the sidewalk and rolled for a few yards.
"Didn't you hear me?" Bald Eagle chided the man of muscle. "Plutonia's radioactive. You could die just from standing next to her. You've got to keep the people away."
Before Mr. Incredible could answer, the masked bird man spread his cybernetic wings and soared vertically into the sky.
Minutes later police officers arrived to tranquilize Plutonia, cover her in a lead tarp, and transport her to a maximum-security prison. Surrounded by grateful townsfolk, Mr. Incredible forgot about Bald Eagle's involvement in the battle or his surprising familiarity.
"Thanks to you, the city is safe once again."
"How can I ever repay you for saving my life?"
"Can I get your autograph, Dynaguy?"
So occupied was Mr. Incredible by the attentions of the citizens he had saved, that he failed to notice an old man standing in their midst. The remarkably tall man sported a short white beard, a Victorian suit, and a top hat. He stood quietly, stoically, allowing the other anxious townspeople to approach the hero before he did. And then, as Mr. Incredible turned his back, the man reached into his jacket and drew out a small object...
----
More soon!