There's nothing for it, thought Alan, fighting back his emotions. Fern shouldn't be forced to live someone else's life, even if that someone else is my sister.
"Goodbye," he said quietly, and deftly exorcised Tegan's presence from Fern's brain.
The poodle girl seemed on the verge of choking. "You okay?" April asked her.
"Don't touch me!" cried Fern, leaping backwards from the cat girl. D.W. had to jump aside to avoid being bowled over by her.
"Relax," said April. "I won't hurt you."
"What did you do to me?" said Fern accusingly. "You put something in my head…something that made me say and do strange things…"
"If it's any comfort," said April, "the person who did that to you is lying at our feet in a coma."
Fern looked down. A chill ran through her heart at the sight of the stricken girl's face. "I know her," she marveled. "We've only just met, but…but I feel like she's a part of me."
"Welcome back, Fern," said Alan, grinning as he removed Frink's helmet from his head.
"I'll take that," said the professor, grabbing the device.
"You'll destroy it, won't you?" said Francine earnestly.
"As glavin is my witness," Frink replied. "This experience has taught me a lesson—the world isn't ready for a wholesale release of the Brainchildren. True, they haven't done anything wrong, but then again, neither has an undetonated land mine."
"But what about Victor?" said April. "He can see and hear a mile away, but he can't actually hurt anyone with his powers."
"That's true," said Frink sheepishly. "I don't know what to tell you, April."
"So that's it," said the cat girl, her expression turning sullen. "You're turning your back on the Brainchildren."
Frink nodded. "I'm afraid so."
"How do you expect me to rescue my parents now?" April snapped at him.
"Well, seeing that they're in outer space," Frink replied, "you might start by joining an amateur rocketry club."
April turned around, closed her eyes tightly, and began to take deep breaths.
"That's twice now," Alan said to her in a gentle but scolding tone. "Every time you recruit someone with dangerous powers to save your parents, it ends in disaster. Don't you think it's time to give up?"
April only shook her head weakly. The hair puffs on the back of her head knocked together.
"You've been through a lot," Fern told her. "You thought your parents were killed, you went back in time to stop them from being killed, you thought they were killed again, you found out they were alive, and then, to top it all off, you learned they're really aliens. No one else in the world has had experiences like that. You need to take some time to rest and think things through."
April looked at her, misty-eyed. "Thanks for trying to help, Fern," she said with a slight smile.
Then, having nothing more to add, she swallowed and walked away.
"Maybe the third time will be the charm," said Alan facetiously.
Lisa and Professor Frink remained behind, tending to the victims of Claire's assault on the campus. Francine, keeping Greta's horn carefully hidden under her blouse, accompanied Arthur, D.W., Fern, and Alan in search of a payphone, hoping to call their parents and be whisked away to home and safety.
"Hey, Francine," said Arthur as they were approaching a row of phones in the student union building. "Is that a unicorn horn under your shirt, or are you just happy to see me?"
"One of these days, Arthur," snarled Francine, shaking a fist at the boy.
"Don't joke," D.W. mourned. "Greta's dead."
While Fern dialed her house, Arthur and Francine discussed the events of the day.
"The unicorns are gonna be really peeved with us," said Arthur. "Not only is Greta dead, but everyone in Springfield knows about their existence."
"You think they'll declare war on us?" said Francine anxiously.
"That would be scary," Arthur mused. "Being chased all over the neighborhood by two Sentinels was bad enough—but a whole army?"
Down the hallway shuffled a raggedly-dressed, unshaven man, whose eyes lit up when he saw the two kids. "You!" he cried out, limping toward them. "I saw you in my head! You're the ones with the magic wishing horn!"
"Uh-oh," said Francine under her breath.
"You gotta give me that horn," the homeless man pleaded. "Ol' Gil hasn't had a decent meal in days. I got fired from my job sellin' used tires, and when my wife found out, she kicked me outta the house. C'mon, you're all kids. You got years before you hafta make a livin' for yourselves. All I'm askin' is the same chance as every other American. That magic horn'll put ol' Gil back on his feet. C'mon, whattya say?"
"Uh, we don't know about any magic horn," said Francine nervously.
Arthur fished a quarter from his pocket. "Here you go, mister," he said, dropping the coin into Gil's palm. "Now please leave us alone."
The shabby man stared blankly at them. "I-I'm sorry," he spoke up. "I confused you for somebody else. I'll be on my way. Thank you, and God bless."
The four hours they spent waiting in Greta's Volkswagen were the tensest hours of their lives. Finally Mrs. Walters pulled up in her minivan, and the kids seated themselves for the journey back to Elwood City.
"I worried about you all the way here," Mrs. Walters told her daughter. "My little girl, in the midst of all those eight-fingered yellow people? You'll have to be punished, of course, but at the moment I'm just glad you're safe."
"I'm glad I'm safe too," was Fern's response.
"I understand your teacher invited some yellow people to speak to your class," Mrs. Walters went on. "If I have my way, that will never happen again."
"Er, Mrs. Walters…" Alan started to say.
"If God intended for people to be yellow, he would have made them all yellow," declared the poodle woman.
Fern looked over at Alan and shrugged apologetically.
Seconds after the group had left the Taco Bell parking lot, a black limousine slowed to a stop in front of the fast-food outlet. The wizened, hawk-nosed old man in the back seat glared out the window at the Institute campus and the destroyed building.
"Smithers, did you get the license plate number of the horseless carriage that just left?" he asked the driver.
"Yes, Mr. Burns," the bespectacled man replied.
"Excellent," said Burns, tenting his fingers.
to be continued