Prologue
Jerald hummed along to his mp3 player as he swept the now-empty halls of the exhibition center for tomorrow. In just a few hours, an army of models, makeup artists, press, and tailors would arrive to prepare for the morning's show. Even though he had a steady girlfriend of two years, Jerald couldn't help but feel like he was missing out. All he had left was to finish the hallway leading to the showroom and then he could finally call it a night. After that, he wouldn't be needed until tomorrow night.
He sighed and thumbed the volume on his mp3 player up. He wondered why he would even want to be at the show in the first place. He was just a simple custodian. He liked hip-hop music, good books and good movies. How on earth would he ever fit in with the high-profile crowd – people who bought $50,000 cars on a whim, and then sold them off for next year's model like it was last week's newspaper? He was still paying for his own car. Didn't bother him, really. In just a few months, that thing would be his car, and no one else's. It was one thing to have a nice car, another to actually own it.
He rounded a corner and started working the final stretch of hallway. The entrance to the showroom looked like a finish line, and he doubled his pace. The showroom had been set up hours ago, and was waiting for tomorrow's occupants. Rows upon rows of chairs lined all the way up to the catwalk, which was lit from below Plexiglas panels and illuminated from all around by bright stage lights, all cold and dark right now. Pretty typical fashion show, really.
As he neared the door to the showroom, he thought he heard something over his music. He paused and stared at the door. He heard only silence outside of his music, and shrugged. Terry probably dropped a chair or something down the hall. He always was a bit clumsy. He continued to sweep until he cleared the last patch of tile before the entrance. He stopped, stood straight up, and stretched his back. Finished at last.
He grabbed up the broom and was about to go get a dustpan when he distinctly heard something coming from the showroom. He stopped the mp3 player and removed his headphones. He heard a loud crash come from inside the showroom, followed by something being thrown around.
His eyes narrowed in anger. "Aww, no. Not this!" They'd been getting threats from some anti-corporation group for some time now demanding they not host the show. Security was tight as heck, but there were still ways to get past it if one was clever enough. At the last show, some activists ran on the catwalk and spray-painted all over some poor model's clothes before being dragged off by security. If they were vandalizing the showroom, he'd have to call the police.
He set the broom aside and carefully opened the door. He stuck his head in when it was wide enough, took one look at the showroom, and stifled a gasp.
Vandalism was one thing, but this? This was absolute destruction.
The tidy rows of folding chairs were strewn about the room like confetti. Upon closer inspection, every single one had been twisted beyond use and tossed into every corner in the room. The banners for the sponsors hung from the walls in tatters. The catwalk had literally been ripped apart. Pieces of it lay more or less where the catwalk was, but it was now an oblong pile of wood, Plexiglas, and wiring. Jerald swallowed the lump in his throat and eased into the room. He stared at the carnage for a moment before noticing a lone figure on the stage.
His back was towards Jerald, so he hadn't noticed Jerald yet, apparently. The intruder walked over towards the lighting scaffolding and raised his right arm. Jerald wondered what he was doing, and then noticed a long, curved blade attached to his arm. The vandal swung at the scaffold leg and neatly sliced it in two. The entire assembly twisted, turned, and then buckled under its weight, falling to the ground with a metallic shriek. The lights hit the floor and shattered, sending showers of sparks everywhere, and briefly illuminating the intruder as he turned towards the back of the room.
Whoever he was, he wasn't human. It stood roughly six feet tall on a pair of bird-like legs that ended in long claws. Its close-fitting clothing displayed well-defined muscles in the arms and torso, and its head was attached to its body by a long neck, which was lowered to shoulder height. A device on its back was connected to a smaller one on the left forearm via a flexible conduit, and the blade gleamed in the dim light. The only thing that even looked human were the eyes, which were a brilliant blue color. Jerald noticed that last detail when it saw him.
The creature turned and faced Jerald. It staggered its legs and crouched like it was about to strike. Its lips peeled back into a snarl and revealed a row of sharp, almost human-looking teeth, and then its mouth snapped open as it hissed at Jerald.
Sweat formed on Jerald's forehead, as he stood petrified with fear, except for the involuntary shaking happening in his entire body. The creature studied Jerald for a moment, a low growl rattling in its throat. Finally it hissed at him again, and darted backstage in a flash.
When Jerald finally regained control of his body, he burst out of the ravaged showroom and sprinted to the security station, shouting "Police! Someone call the Police!"
1. Aspirations
Alex charged up the steps to the school's front door in the bright morning light.
"I'm late I'm late I'm late I'm late!"
She ran down the hallway, snuck past the office, and then hurried down the hall where her economics class was. She spotted Arnold digging through his locker, and he saw her running down the hall.
"Hey, Alex! What's – "his greeting was cut off as Alex blew past at hurricane speed.
"Sorry! Gotta run! I'm late!"
She sped down the hall and stopped in front of the classroom door. She paused a moment to compose herself, and then calmly opened the door and stepped inside. Everyone inside turned to look at her, including the teacher.
"Ah, Alex. I was wondering where you were."
Alex smiled sheepishly. "Ah, heh, sorry! My alarm didn't go off this morning!"
"I see. I'm afraid I'll still have to mark you as tardy today."
"But, I'm only a few minutes late!"
"Rules are rules, Alex. Now you're disrupting the class. Please take a seat."
Alex's smile melted into red-faced embarrassment, and she skulked between the desks to where Sam and Clover were sitting. She sat beside them and tried to keep her head low while she fetched her things from her backpack. Mandy was sitting behind them and leaned forward to whisper to Alex.
"Late again, Alex? One more and you get detention, you know."
Alex clenched her teeth and tried not to lose her temper. "I'm aware of that, Mandy." A wonderful image of Mandy sitting in the detention hall danced through her head.
"It's okay, Alex." Said Sam. "It won't happen again, right?"
"I dunno..."
The teacher cut off their queries. "Good morning class. Please pass yesterday's homework forward."
The classroom was filled with the rustling of papers as the students turned in their homework. Alex thanked her lucky stars that she'd done it during lunch yesterday. Too bad she couldn't remember what it was about. She relaxed knowing that the teacher probably wouldn't ask her about it.
The teacher stacked the homework on his desk opened his notebook. "Alright class, let's begin with a little review. Can anyone tell me which factors affect the law of Diminishing Returns?" He looked about around the half-awake classroom, trying to avoid know-it-alls like Sam and Mandy, wishing to challenge some of the more average students. "Anyone?"
Alex tried to avoid his gaze. There was no way in heck she was ever going to answer that question, unless it had something to do with next week's big sales at the mall.
Mandy had other plans, however. She deftly removed a safety pin from her purse and opened it. She carefully reached forward while everyone else was paying attention to the teacher, and prodded Alex just above her belt.
"HEY!" exclaimed Alex as she half-stood from her seat before realizing her mistake.
The teacher's face lit up. Finally! I knew she was smarter than she let on! "Alex, how nice of you to volunteer! Care to explain the primary factors in the Law of Diminishing Returns to the class?"
Alex's world ground to a halt. She stared flabbergasted at the teacher and began feeling uncomfortably warm.
"Um, pass?"
"Come on, Alex. If you did your homework you'd know it. It's quite simple."
But I did my homework! I just can't remember it! "Uh, the main factors affecting, uh, Diminishing Returns is, uh, the Supply Chain?"
Alex heard several people snicker around her. She gave Sam a sideways glace, who was burying her face in her palms.
The teacher sighed. "No, that's not it, Alex. Please sit down."
Alex sat. She was completely flushed. She saw the disappointment in her teacher's face and couldn't help feeling guilty.
"The important factors in the Law of Diminishing Returns," began the teacher, "are how many steps are needed to create a product, and how many processes carry out those steps. For example, the more people you have building, say, a radio, the faster it can be built on an assembly line because each worker is given a specific task to perform, and can do it quickly before moving it down to the next worker."
Alex scribbled in her notebook even more messily than usual. When the teacher turned around, a note landed on her desk. She looked up to see Sam and Clover winking at her. She carefully opened the note, which read:
Don't feel bad. We all mess up! You'll get it next time!
It was signed by Sam and Clover in flowery print and bubble letters. Alex quickly scribbled her response on the note.
I know what you mean, but it's not fair! I totally did that homework and I didn't know a thing! Let's talk after class.
She signed it and tossed it back on Sam's desk just before the teacher faced them again. "However, adding workers to the manufacture of the radio only works to a point. Eventually you start getting so many steps in the manufacture of the radio, the process actually slows down. If the manufacturer can't produce as many radios, he can't sell as many, and his profits will decline. Add in factors such as the costs of materials, operating expenses, and employee pay, and the manufacturer could face big trouble down the road if he hires too many workers or implements too many steps in the process."
Forty minutes later, the class bell rang and the room was filled with the cacophony of students rising from their seats, bags zipping up, and the constant chatter of bored conversation. As Alex passed the teacher, he placed his hand on her shoulder. "Excuse me, Alex. Do you mind if I share a few words with you?"
Alex felt like the world was ending, and it was all her fault. "S-sure!"
She followed the teacher to the opposite corner of the room, where his desk was. He thumbed through the stack of homework and found Alex's. He glanced over it and set it back down. "Alex, why couldn't you answer my question in class? It was almost word-for-word from the assignment."
Alex shuffled her feet nervously. "I know! I totally did the homework yesterday! I even spent my whole lunch period doing it!"
"I don't doubt that, Alex. I can tell you did the whole assignment, and quite well. So why did you get the question wrong today?"
Alex sighed. "I did the homework, but I guess I sorta forgot everything after that."
Her teacher rubbed his chin. "Alex, you'll never make good grades like that. You can't just do the work and forget about it. You must study what you've done and learn it by heart. Otherwise you'll never do well on the finals, since this final is comprehensive."
"I get it but, it's just so hard to balance school, homework, friends, and all that other stuff!"
"I know. I get that all the time, and I believe you. I'm just concerned because I know you can do better."
"And I will!" she said assertively.
"Glad to hear it. Next week, I'm going to ask a question on the homework in class, and I want you to be the first to volunteer and answer the question correctly, simply because I know you can."
"I will! Count on it!" she spun around on her heels and exited the classroom. Sam and Clover were waiting for her.
"What did he say?" asked Sam. "Did you get in trouble?"
"Nope! Just 'study your work' this and 'I expect better of you' that. I know you get that a lot at home, Sam."
Sam was not a little insulted. "Yeah, all the time" she said sarcastically.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm only trying to get good grades so I can go to an Ivy-league college here! Don't you think my parents ride me just a little anytime I slack off?"
"Well, at least your mom doesn't give you this really disappointed look every time you tell her you're not dating anyone!"
"Oh, since when have boys been so important to you?"
"Look, it's not me, okay? My mom got married really early. When I turned 16, she started acting like time was running out for me to find the right guy. Now she looks at every guy who even looks close to my age as a candidate for 'the one.' And I didn't even mention the constant hints and wistful looks!"
Sam stared at her for a second. "On second thought, you do have it worse than me. Hey, where's Clover?"
Her question was answered a second later when Clover looped her arms around them from behind and shoved a flyer in their faces.
"What's this?" asked Alex.
"It's my first step to international stardom, that's what!" exclaimed a bubbly Clover.
Sam took the flyer and read it. "First annual Beverly Hills High School Beauty Pageant. Winner Receives a $200 gift certificate and a spot at the next World Fashion Design Show in San Antonio. Clover, you can't be serious!"
But she was. Sam could tell by the stars obscuring her vision.
"Oh, Sam! This is it, the moment I've been waiting my entire adolescent life for! The world will finally recognize me for the true talent that I really am! All these years in suburban seclusion will finally end, and the world will know me for who I am!"
"A total loser, Clover?"
They turned and found Mandy and her posse standing close by.
"What do you want, Mandy?" said a suddenly - menacing Clover.
"Easy, that spot on the fashion show, the one I'm going to take from you like a year-old sweater!"
Clover let go of her friends and stood toe-to-toe with Mandy. "If you think for one minute you are prettier, more graceful, and better model material than I am, you are sorely mistaken!"
"Ha! Whatever! You're going to lose that pageant, and I'll be the one the world finally notices."
"Bring it on, Mandy. True talent will prevail at the pageant."
"Then this thing's in the bag, isn't it? See you later, soon-to-be loser!" Mandy and her posse trotted off confidently, leaving Clover a steaming heap of fury.
"Ooh, that Mandy! I'll show her! I'm ten times the model she wishes she could be!"
Alex was reading the flyer. "I dunno, Clover. This one looks really tough. It says here that contestants are judged based on their grades and smarts as much as their looks, and they even have to submit their own designs before they can even compete. This isn't your ordinary old pageant."
"Designs? Why should I worry about that? I live in the fashion world. I know what's fashionable!"
"It's one thing to follow fashion," said Sam, "but its another matter entirely to create it."
"Whatever. With a little time and preparation, this contest will be a piece of cake and you know it!"
"And the added bonus of rubbing Mandy's nose in it?"
"Always a plus, Sam. Always a plus."
Later that afternoon, the girls found themselves sitting on the rim of the school fountain, helping Clover with some early design sketches for the pageant.
"Aaah! This is hopeless!" she exclaimed.
"C'mon, Clover," said Sam. "You've only tried one!"
"But it's so hard! You'd think this would come naturally to a person like me, so why is it so hard to design a simple, yet fashionable ensemble?" Clover was on the verge of tears.
"Maybe you're coming at it all wrong" suggested Alex.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Well, design is a process," explained Sam. "You start with a simple idea and build your design on top of that."
"So if I start with, say, Mandy's oversized head, I can make that into some kind of design, am I right?"
"I...guess so. Though you might want to start with something a little more natural, like a flower or a leaf."
"Okay, let's see." She stared off at the sky for a few seconds before breaking into hysterics again. "I just can't do it! I feel like my mind is forever caged in this educational prison system! I need artistic freedom!"
"You're right!" said Alex.
"Wha?" exclaimed Clover, expecting Sam to give her another pep talk about perseverance or work ethics. Truth be told, she knew what to do, she just needed to hear her friends tell her that.
"I mean, we've been at boring old school all day. You can't get any inspiration from this place! Maybe we should go to town and find some inspiration?"
Clover mulled over Alex's advice and slapped her sketchbook shut. "Good idea! Rodeo Drive is where we should be, not Bev. High! Let's go!"
They didn't have a chance to go anywhere. They failed to notice the fountain drain itself before swallowing them whole. Arnold, who was scrutinizing a Trigonometry problem a few feet away, thought he heard something unusual. He turned around, seeing only the fountain looking just like it did a few minutes ago. He shrugged it off and returned to his problem.
Moments later, the girls were extricating themselves from the crash webbing in Jerry's office. As usual, he sat calmly behind the desk with his hands folded on the desk.
"Jerr, subtlety is not one of your strong points, y'know?" complained Sam.
"Is it? Personally, I always felt that I had a remarkable sense of subtlety. It's not easy to install WOOHPing devices in a public school, you know."
"Would it kill you to send a helicopter or at least a taxi every once in a while?" asked Clover as she straightened her hair out.
"I'm afraid you'll have to talk to Human Resources about that."
"So high-tech WOOHPing devices are in your budget, but taxi fares aren't?" said Alex "What kind of backwards logic is that?!"
"I'll decide how I run my organization, thank you very much. Just like I decide your next mission."
"So what's the scoop?"
"Gladys?" Gladys descended from the ceiling and projected a holographic display before the girls. "Yesterday, a fashion showroom in New York was attacked and destroyed by an unknown vandal the night before the show." Gladys showed the pictures of the totaled room from the police reports. "As you can see, the room was completely destroyed, forcing the designer to cancel his show."
"Barbaric!" exclaimed Clover, jumping out of her seat.
"Indeed. This is not the first time, either. Similar havoc was wreaked in showrooms across the globe. Paris, Rome, Hong Kong, London, all showcasing major designers, all completely wrecked just hours before the shows."
"So what do we know about the vandals?" asked Sam.
"Very little. We do know that all the convention centers were contacted by protest groups shortly before the showcases, but none of the groups ever committed this level of destruction."
Alex gawked at the wreckage on Gladys' display. "Must have been a lot of people to do that kind of damage."
"Actually, we have evidence to the contrary. At last night's attack, a janitor witnessed a lone vandal destroy the whole room single-handedly. He never got a really good look at the perpetrator, but he is certain it wasn't human."
"Not human!?" they exclaimed in unison.
"We're not assuming that. We do know the perpetrator was packing some impressive weaponry, but all the janitor saw was a sword of some kind that cut the light rigging down. Otherwise, the assailant used his bare hands for the remainder of the damage, so we're assuming he's using some sort of augmentations to increase his strength."
Sam crossed her arms and looked at Jerry expectantly. "So where do we start?"
"There's a show coming up in Athens which has already received threats similar to the previous shows that were vandalized. I'm ... is there something wrong, Clover?"
Clover had a very anxious look in her eyes. A bit of drool was coming from one corner of her mouth, and her fingers were twitching rapidly. "No, go on please."
"I'm planting the three of you in the show. Sam, you'll be playing the role of a photographer beside the catwalk. Alex, you'll be backstage in the dressing rooms. And Clover..." Clover was looking positively rabid."...you'll be in disguise as a runway model."
"AAAAAH!" she screamed and charged at Jerry.
"AAAAAH!" Jerry screamed as she leaped over the desk and tackled him.
"OhJerryyou'vemademesohappyIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!!!!"
"Yes, I'm sure, now GET OFF MY SPLEEN!"
Clover retreated to her seat while Jerry straightened his tie out. "I'm glad you like the assignment, Clover. Now let's get to the gadgets." The conveyor belt shuffled them around Jerry's desk and down the corridor to the jet. Gladys followed them down as mechanical arms began dispensing gadgets.
"You'll be taking the Infrared Motion-Tracking Magnification Sunglasses, upgraded with a more stylish look, the Tornado Blast 3000 Hair Dryer, 24-Exposure Freeze Ray Camera, Bungee Belts, and Lip Balm Lasers."
Clover stared at the gear in relative disgust. "Like, how am I supposed to carry all this on the catwalk?"
"I'm afraid you'll have to work that out on your own. Good luck girls. I'll stay in touch."
The girls boarded the plane and took off for Athens and their new mission.