Clouds and city lights passed rapidly below Kim's window as the Global Justice jet made its way east, toward the Mediterranean and Professor Dementor's grecian lair. Tears of guilt and frustration occasionally misted the thick plastic window where Kim's cheek rested. Mostly, though, Kim just kept her eyes shut and tried to sleep during the long flight.
She was too early; disappointing and excluding Ron; that snark Bonnie swiping the injectors; the knowledge that she would never see Ron again, in this time or in the future; uncertainty about what she'd find once she bounced back to her time. These thoughts spun around her mind over and over, without resolution or relief. The confrontation with Dementor she did not dwell on, it was something she was confident she could handle, as she always had. Always except the once, she corrected herself.
Her Kimmunicator beeped intermittently, Wade undoubtedly trying to find out why Kim abandoned Ron at the restaurant. She didn't answer. She had all she needed, and had no idea what she would tell Wade about her actions.
Daylight streamed through the window, startling her awake. She must've slept. The ocean sparkled far below as the GJ jet streaked toward southern Europe, sun already high in the sky. Kim was moving faster than she had in many dozens of centuries, but found no joy, no thrill in the unaccustomed speed. Rather, it reminded her of the incessant hustle, bustle, jostling, confusion of the present world. The world that she was even more determined to save, now that her backup plan had been hijacked by her nemesis. Bonnie as a latter day Eve? Rue the day. Kim had no intention of letting that happen.
"Approaching refuel station Kilo Papa Echo in five minutes, Ms. Possible," the pilot informed her after noticing she was awake. "We'll be on the ground for about half an hour, you can stretch your legs and take a potty break."
"Thank you."
The plane descended through misty clouds and slowed dramatically. Kim scanned the horizon but saw no land, no island, no ship. As the plane slowed further, she noticed a disturbance in the water ahead, and watched as the conning tower of a submarine breached the surface. Water streamed from a narrow platform on the spine of the sub. "You're not seriously landing on that thing, are you?" she asked. The pilot simply grinned at her and focused on the controls.
VTOL engines shook the plane as it came to a stop a few dozen feet above the pitching platform. The pilot expertly set the craft down with barely a shudder and shut off the engines. Crew members hauling refueling lines streamed onto the platform and hooked up gaskets while Kim and the pilot disembarked.
A tall officer with shiny insignia approached Kim. "Welcome, Miss Possible. If you'll step this way, we have a priority transmission for you." Kim could imagine who it was; but she saw no way to avoid talking with Wade. She followed the officer below and into a spartan room filled with communication gear. One screen had a "please wait" graphic. A seated technician handed kim a headset, which she fitted against an ear.
Wade's face popped onto the screen. "Kim! Is there trouble? I haven't been able to get in touch with you!" The young face peering out of the black-and-white monitor was clearly worried.
Kim shook her head and made herself smile. "Sorry Wade, no problems. I just had to do this mission solo."
"Why? Ron's pretty upset you ditched him."
Kim hesitated. "I can't really go into it now," she told him. "But trust me, there's a reason."
"Ohhhhkay," Wade replied, unsatisfied. "The other reason I called was to warn you that you've got somebody on your tail. Radar shows a ghost mostly, but I've gotten enough data to indicate that Shego is following you. Be careful, I have no idea what's going on with her and Drakken."
Shego? That was new. The sub, Shego, being early... too many changes from the first time. She was certain she could handle the variance, but it might not be as straightforward as she'd thought.
"Do you want to talk with Ron?"
Yes. "No. Let him sleep."
"Anything you want me to tell him?"
Pause. "Tell him I love him," she whispered to the embarrassed young genius, and cut the connection. Handing the headset to the tech, she asked for the nearest head.
A few minutes alone helped her regain some composure.
Kim went back onto the deck and watched the rest of the refueling procedure. A granola bar took the edge off her hunger as she kept her balance on the rolling, pitching platform. The motion didn't bother her, but she didn't want to eat more, either.
Finally, the plane was refueled and she and the pilot reboarded. Takeoff was as routine as lifting vertically off a moving submarine could be, and soon the craft was streaking once more toward Dementor. Since they were mostly going east, the day zoomed by at double speed, and all too soon the sun was low behind them. Kim saw the long shadow of Dementor's island and connecting highway before she saw the actual structures, where tall white stone buildings rose from the craggy isle. Far above the island lair, Kim looked at the pilot, who touched a button. A translucent separator rose between them, and Kim nestled into her seat.
"Ready? Five, four, three, two, one, punch it!" the pilot called out, and hit the side eject button. The canopy slammed back and her chair launched her into a breathless arc above the jet, which made a sharp turn and zoomed above the falling Kim, bound for friendlier skies. Once the jet had cleared her space, Kim straightened out, kicked away from the small impact cushion, and began her long freefall dive toward the island.
As she neared the slanted rooftop, Kim scanned the parapets and balconies for any attentive henchmen, but saw no one. One large flat rooftop housed an imposing-looking tower, which Kim knew was the atomizer for Dementor's anagathic liquid. She hoped to foil the plot before it reached that point.
Aiming for a roof above the central compound, Kim pulled the ripcord at the last moment and rode down to a hard landing under her small parafoil. The noise sounded loud to her, but nobody appeared. Kim gathered her 'chute and bundled it into a corner of the roof. Tiptoeing to an open window, she listened intently, but heard nothing from within.
She looked around and grinned. Now this was more like it. The adrenalin was back, pushing her forward, giving her a sense of purpose and movement. Kim hadn't realized just how much she'd missed that feeling. The important but boring work she'd done for millenia couldn't compare to the thrill of stalking a bad guy, taking him down, foiling his nefarious scheme.
Strangely, Kim found she missed the bad guys. She could do anything.
She focused on the silent stone buildings. The layout scheme was readily available through a silent command, blue glowing lines overlaying the real world. Ample computing capacity calculated where she was looking, and when her glance shifted, the lines moved with it, providing a realtime tactical layout - as far as was known fifty millenia hence. There were some gaps where glowing lines faded out, or turned pink where the layout was extrapolated from surviving data.
Based on the time of day - about 3 hours before sunset - and Kim's location, a small blinking red dot appeared in Kim's vision. One of the smaller outbuildings held the anagathic formula, about halfway down. A secondary yellow dot, indicating where the computers resided that held the research and critical information about how to create the formula, was in the same building, one level up from the potion itself. Smiling, Kim started working her way toward the building. Seagulls flew overhead, their swooping shadows not distracting her as she focused on the goal.
With two minutes in front of the concentrated liquid, and a neutralizing tool from her backpack, she would render the chemical inert. All she had to do was reach the room.
Footsteps. Kim froze, and shrank into the lengthening shadows of a rooftop. On a balcony two stories below, guards walked their beats, looking out over the ocean for any intruders. They didn't think to look up. After a few hushed words, the two beefy gray-clad henchmen strolled back indoors, away from the sea breeze.
Kim waited until they were well away before continuing. The deep gap between two buildings was easily crossed with the help of her grappling gun, and she was at the target building. Rapelling down several floors, she landed on a small balcony. This was about right; the yellow dot shone bright in front of her. A laser pen silently severed the window lock, and she gracefully climbed into the dark room. Shadow-wrapped cabinets, storage containers, boxes, and shelves filled the room. Thick clouds of dust greeted Kim's lowered foot. Apparently this was an unused storeroom. Excellent.
Night-vision goggles helped accentuate the dim lighting. Kim padded to the door, unlocked the steel-reinforced barrier, and slipped into a dimly-lit hallway. As she remembered from previous missions long ago, Dementor preferred his lairs dark and foreboding. Advanced sensors in the goggles found no trace of hidden traps, tripwires, or laser detection devices.
The doorway to the computer center was locked but unguarded. Another quick slice of her laser permitted her access to the small office, where food trays were piled high, CDs were stacked haphazardly, and other paraphernalia of computer wonks confirmed this was a nerd hive. Kim imagined Wade's room looked much the same.
Several computer towers were clustered in the center of the room, with perhaps two dozen monitors emanating from the computing core. A taller mainframe took up one full wall. Squatting, Kim took off her backpack and removed what looked like a tape dispenser and tube filled with small buttons. Starting with the mainframe, Kim created large "X" patterns with the tape, and placed a button at the center of each X. It took a few minutes to make sure she got all the computers properly setup, but nobody disturbed her quiet work. Satisfied she had gotten them all, she backed up near the door and took out her Kimmunicator, keyed in a short sequence, and instinctively covered her eyes. There was no flash, no obvious sign of anything happening, but the "tape" had begun emitting very specific radiation that quickly fried the motherboards and hard drives of each computer. After a few seconds, the tape melted and then evaporated, and the buttons fell off, dissolved into coarse granules.
Thirty seconds with her laser pen tuned to "melt" took care of every CD backup Kim could find. There would be no simple duplication of Dementor's anagathic liquid.
The success of her first part of the mission improved Kim's spirits. For the first time in a long while, she began believing her slogan again, that she could truly do anything. Slipping out the door, she padded down the empty corridor and found an "exit" sign - apparently even supervillains weren't above building regulations. The heavily reinforced door opened easily to an empty stairwell, and Kim descended one flight. Emerging from the stairwell to another empty hallway, she concentrated on the blue glowing lines that outlined each wall, each door, each corridor. Over everything, the red dot indicating the location of Dementor's anagathic formula grew brighter as Kim drew nearer.
Kim tensely approached a doorway. Bright blue lines outlined the door, and the virtual red dot in Kim's vision pulsed. Kim gripped the knob and turned slowly.
It was unlocked. She glided in, noiselessly closed the heavy door behind her.
This room was large, clean, and mostly empty, in comparison to the storeroom she'd first entered, or the techie hive. A single narrow window let in red sunlight, which striped the floor and part of the table in the center of the room. Kim sent a quick command from behind her eyes and the lines and dot vanished.
A large spherical beaker filled with a translucent greenish liquid, about the size of a basketball, sat in the center of the table, tightly stoppered at the top of a tall, narrow neck. Making sure the room was empty of guards or traps, Kim tiptoed toward the beaker, circled the table so the door was in front of her, and looked at the glass-enclosed liquid. Kim gently touched the side of the beaker, and the ichor inside sloshed imperceptibly. She shivered. Mega-creepy.
It was almost too much to comprehend: this little bit of juice, this single container, held enough concentrated chemical to stop the aging process of every human on earth, render them immortal. And childless. What other single thing, in the history of humanity, had had such a dramatic impact on human society?
Why would Dementor decide to create such a thing, Kim wondered. How would that benefit him? When he'd released it, so long ago, the world went mad and he was lost in the shuffle. By the time anything nearing normalcy reappeared, Dementor had fallen. Without the man to answer, it was hard to understand why he had done it, and there were never any satisfactory answers.
At the moment, now in the past, Kim was less concerned with why than how to stop it. Shrugging off her backpack, Kim rooted inside for a moment and came out with an oddly-shaped device that fit snugly in her hand. Gripping it tightly, she raised her hand and pointed it at the glass. It would take two minutes of steady firing for the neutralizer to break the compound into harmless elements. Kim pressed the trigger.
The small device grew warm, and Kim heard a low tingle the future tech assured her meant it was working. She smiled, focused on the beaker; this was almost too...
Kim felt the air shift behind her before her feet were swept out from underneath. The air whooshed out of her lungs as her back hit the stone floor hard, neutralizer flying out of her hand. A black and green blur swept past her, but Kim stuck a foot out and tangled Shego's legs as the other woman darted toward the table. Shego fell face first, tucked into a roll underneath the table, and popped to her feet on the other side. Kim forced herself to jump to her feet, although her back and head were nearly numb.
Insulated from Kim by the length of a table, Shego struck an easy pose and aimed a familiar, mocking smile at Kim. "Well, well, Princess, doing a bit of freelance on the side these days? Or have you decided to join us in the villain biz?"
Kim felt her body drop into a fighting stance. Shego's abrupt appearance brought back feelings and memories long buried, but her body knew how to deal with the threat. "So not, Shego. Aren't you a little out of your neighborhood? Won't Drakken get jealous of you seeing another supervillain?"
The beaker of liquid glistened between them. Shego continued to ignore Kim's stance and looked at her gloved fingernails as if evaluating whether they needed a touch-up. She glanced up through hooded eyes, amusement in her voice. "Like he keeps track. Don't change the subject, pumpkin... you're up to something, admit it."
"What do you mean?" Kim didn't like where this conversation was headed. She remembered Shego as being bright, but not this bright...
"Oh, come on, it's obvious. You've been acting funny for a couple of days, you KO your boyfriend - sorry, partner - and bogart the jet, and then to top it off, you tell your little technogeek to give the buffoon a kiss for you. How utterly sweet - and how obvious that you're doing something shady. And that you don't expect to see him again." Shego continued to smirk, slowly circling the table. Kim circled the other way to keep the beaker between them, remained silent.
"So here you are, halfway around the world, about to swipe something mysterious from dear Dementor. Gonna use it yourself? Or sell it? Or is somebody blackmailing you into swiping it? C'mon, you can tell Auntie Shego, there is after all honor among thieves." The woman's smile was wicked and huge.
Kim needed to buy time. Dementor's goons couldn't have missed the noise, even through that thick door. They'd have to be on their way.
"Why the interest, Shego? And how do you know about what my moods are, or what I do with my boyfriend?" Kim smiled slightly as Shego frowned at Kim's emphasis of "boyfriend".
"You think we don't keep an eye on you, little girl? It's boring and puerile, but it's a job."
Kim contemplated telling Shego what the liquid did. But to a 21st-century supervillain, the words "immortality drug" would be a blazing beacon of avarice. Kim dismissed the thought without hesitation. But maybe she could tell part of the truth...
"I'm not here to steal it. I'm here to destroy it," she told the raven-haired woman who continued to slowly circle the table. "It's a biological weapon that will - could - kill billions." That much was very true.
Shego lifted an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Then it's probably worth a lot to Dementor. Wonder what he'd pay to get it back if it went missing?" She stepped forward to put a hand on the beaker.
Kim's hands were empty; her backpack lay several feet away, her Kimmunicator lodged in a baggy pants pocket. The table was bare except for the glass container and its deadly cargo. She couldn't throw anything, had nothing which she could use to distract her nemesis; except, perhaps, misdirection.
Kim's eyes went wide, and focused behind and slightly to the right of Shego. Leaning one way, she used her off-lead foot to tap very quietly; the sound bounced around the quiet stone room. Shego stopped reaching for the large vial, lit her plasma hands, and darted a quick look behind her, toward the still-sealed door.
The beaker was heavy, but Kim's hand closed around the narrow neck securely. It sloshed most unpleasantly as she carefully but quickly yanked it out of Shego's distracted reach. Wrapping her arms around the heavy glass, she backed up and warned Shego, "Don't try it, or I'll drop it and we're both finished!" The green-and-black clad woman pulled up short, snarled, and extinguished the glow around her hands.
"You would, wouldn't you."
Kim carefully circled around the table, giving Shego a wide berth, and inched toward the door. If she could get through, she might be able to lock Shego in.
In with the neutralizer. Damn!
Stricken with indecision, Kim paused with her back to the door. She certainly couldn't leave the beaker with Shego, but she couldn't leave without the neutralizer. And she only had a few hours until she would be yanked back to her own time. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck.
Without warning, the door behind her flew open, pushed by one of Dementor's thuggish henchmen. The door edge hit Kim in the shoulderblade, and despite her best efforts, the heavy glass container wobbled and started to slip from her grasp. Kim saw Shego's eyes go wide, just before the villainess dove onto her knees and wrapped her arms around the bottom of the basketball-sized container. Kim reflexively let go to keep from snapping the neck off the beaker.
The next few moments were a melee of fists, feet, and trying not to trip over Shego, who desperately avoided meaty fists swung at her while cradling the beaker. A tiny part of Kim's mind was amused and would've had a fun time needling Shego about her subsurvient position while Kim battled the thugs. Shego sidled on her knees away from the door, away from where the battle was centered.
Kim, seeing the vial relatively safe away from accidental breakage, concentrated on tossing as many henchmen back through the doorway as possible, but more kept coming. Tired muscles and burning contusions wore her down, and Kim recognized that although she retained every ounce of strength from her freak-fighting youth, her expertise at martial arts had atrophied. She was losing, steadily. It became a race between Kim's flagging endurance, and the number of goons Dementor was willing to throw at her.
Just as Kim was certain she couldn't shift one more beefy thug aside, the flow of inbound muscle trickled to a stop. A mound of unconscious henchmen half filled the doorway. Kim leaned back, panting, favoring her bruised shoulder blade and back where Shego had tumbled her. Remembering the brunette villainess, Kim looked for her, but the only people visible were knocked-out goons.
The narrow window where Shego had entered was open. Kim hobbled to the opening and looked down, then up, where Shego was just hauling herself and the green-filled beaker over the top of the roof, several stories up.
She was in no shape to follow. But she had no choice. Kim hoisted herself up to the window ledge and reached for the dangling rope, but before she stepped out into the void, felt a tingling between her shoulders and smelled ozone. Only after a couple of seconds did she realize she'd heard a zap, but by that time she was falling backwards, toward unconsciousness.
Massive headache.
Kim blinked her eyes open, stared at the bare stone ceiling. A thin blanket covered her. She lay on a narrow cot in a dim room which Kim correctly guessed was a holding cell in Dementor's compound. When she rolled over, she felt every ache, every bruised muscle in her body, and the cot springs squeaked loudly. Kim was glad she hadn't eaten recently, or it would have made a surprise appearance on the floor; but the nausea passed and she heaved herself to her feet.
So much for the "I can do anything" mindset, she thought, staring at the bare walls of the small room.
Approaching the door, she peered through the barred window. It could've been plexiglass, but Dementor was a traditional villain and liked to be able to taunt his prisoners through iron bars. Kim saw a single guard, back to the door, helmeted head unmoving. She only rated one guard? How insulting.
A quick search of her pockets revealed nothing, they had taken all her gadgets. Dementor's Teutonic thoroughness was evident in her capture: a bare cell, no tools, not even her gloves. At least he left her her watch...
Which read 47 minutes, 11 seconds. She'd been unconscious for hours.
She had no way of knowing where the chemical was, or if it had been released. In her first version of these events, Dementor had released the spray by now. But with the changes introduced, with Shego swiping the vial, it was all different. The fact that she was still on Dementor's isle, and there was a guard, was a good sign, she figured.
Harsh static ripped from speakers in the hallway, and Dementor's tinny, heavily accented voice echoed throughout the stone walls. "Achtung, everyvun! Ve vill find ze compliance formula, so zere is no use in continuing to hide! Herr Doktor Drakken vill not zteal it from me! And bezides, you do not have ze counteragent! If you zteal it I shall zimply make more! Ve haff your jet zurrounded, you shall not ezcape!"
Compliance formula? What else was going on here, Kim wondered.
Kim thought for a moment, and approached the door. If she was confused, it was a good bet the guard was, too. Drakken never bothered to explain his plans to mere henchmen.
"Shego's still on the loose, huh?" Kim asked casually through the bars, but the guard made no move, gave no answer. "You better hope she doesn't release that chemical. Nasty stuff," she said, as if to herself, shaking her head. "I certainly hope I'm nowhere near when it gets released. I couldn't bear to watch my flesh peel like that, or be in that much agony." She grabbed the bars of the door and affected a frightened tone. "Please, do me a favor? If they release it, please... please shoot me, or something. Put me down before it takes effect. I don't want to be turned inside out while I'm still alive. Could you do that for me? Please?"
The guard twitched silently, turned his thick neck so he was facing Kim. he wasn't wearing the usual dark glasses that most of Dementor's henchmen wore, and Kim could see a shiner on his left eye. The steady gaze of the guard met Kim's eye for a moment, and he reluctantly nodded.
Kim backed off and thought. She didn't have much time for finesse. Sitting on the squeaky cot, she stripped the thin sheet off and wrapped the blanket around her, and sat still for a few minutes. Then suddenly, without any warning, she began bouncing up and down, creating a hideous metallic noise. She added incoherent screaming, and flailed around inside the blanket. "It's starting! It's starting! Oh God no! My skin! Noooo!" She continued making a massive racket, peeking out through the blanket.
The door opened outward, and the guard poked his head in. The cot was in a corner, and Kim continued making as big a disturbance as she could. Between flails, she watched the guard slowly unholster his weapon. She was pleased he was having a hard time... he had a conscience. That should make it easier, and she'd try not to hurt him too much.
Kim went limp, then rigid on the cot, still mostly covered by the blanket. Her face was in deep shadow underneath the blanket. The guard leaned over, reached to pull the blanket aside, and Kim shot out her hand. She wrapped the rolled-up sheet around his arm, pulled, and rolled aside as he fell, off-balance, onto the springs. Kim wrapped the rest of the sheet around him and had him trussed in linen within seconds. His stun baton, which was turned to "lethal", fell to the floor, where Kim picked it up, reset it, and bopped him him into unconsciousness. Then she was out the door.
A small alcove next to the cell held her gear, including Kimmunicator and neutralizer, which she'd dropped upstairs. Strapping the backpack on, she dashed down the hall.
It was hard to tell if she was in the same building. Recalling the glowing blue lines through wetware, it took a few seconds to match the corridor layout. It was the same building, ground floor. Things were different now, though - all the lights were on, and sounds of guards searching rooms filtered into the hallway. Kim only had seconds to move, and dove toward the nearest "exit" sign. The stairway was empty, at least for the moment, so Kim started climbing.
The halls were busy, but Kim managed to keep from being spotted. Henchmen were searching in pairs, but not very effectively. Kim would've had them looking in different directions, a wider field of view, but they were watching side-by-side, allowing Kim to quietly sneak past doorways until she came to the room with an empty table. As she expected, the large beaker was gone. All the activity made her hope it wasn't being used.
The best bet was the roof. Creeping back to the stairwell, she dashed to the top and peeked out. Nobody in sight. Kim crept out into the early evening where stars were just coming out, and twilight was fading from the west. Keeping to the shadows, Kim stealthily made her way to the nearest parapet and looked down. Shego's jet was parked on a roof not far away, on the same building as Dementor's atomizing tower; guards ringed the jet, which rested in a circle of portable floodlights. Kim strained her eyes but found no sign of the raven-haired supervillainess.
Time to think like Shego. How would she make a getaway? She needed transportation, the most obvious was her jet, which was well guarded, and Shego was burdened with fragile loot. If it were Kim, she'd create some sort of distraction...
The blast took out a chunk of wall from one of the outbuildings opposite Kim's location. Chunks of rock careened into the sea, henchmen scrambled, sirens wailed. Most of the guards circling Shego's jet took off at a run, leaving only a couple of men in the spotlights. As Kim watched the chaos below, she spotted movement in a shadow near the atomizing tower. Slowly, Shego sidled nearer the tower, hands wrapped around a basketball-sized sphere. Kim could barely make it out; only the visual enhancement provided by her wetware let her discern the woman's presence. The remaining guards around her jet didn't see apparently see anything.
No time for subtlety. Kim drew her grappling gun, aimed, and fired at a far tower. Flinging herself off the building, she reeled in enough to keep her from smashing into the lower building, and she cut the line and went into a roll once her feet were above stone. The tower rose into the darkness, only a few meters away. She only had a few seconds before the guards came to investigate the movement.
Shego had placed the beaker into a slot in the tower obviously designed for it. The stopper was still in place, and Kim breathed a sigh of relief. Kim drew the neutralizer and pointed it at the beaker. "Stay back, Shego!" The villainess smirked and pointed a glowing finger at the still-sloshing liquid.
"Or you'll what, Kimmie?"
"This is important, Shego. You have to listen to me on this!"
Kim felt strong hands grap her biceps from behind. The guards had caught up, one holding her on each side. One of them pried the neutralizer out of Kim's grip. Shego waggled her finger, and the third henchman pulled up short and held up his hands. He hit some buttons on his wrist device and backed off, waiting. He'd let the boss deal with this.
Stalemate. Kim's hair ruffled in the light wind, but nothing else moved for a long moment. Shego, sensing the upper hand, smiled evilly. "You really need to be careful around this stuff, big boy," she told the nearest henchman. "One mistake and we're all toast. Now here's what you're gonna do. I'm going to take my goodies and leave. You're going to escort me to my jet and..." She broke off, eyes getting wide as she looked at something above and behind Kim.
"Quack!"
Kim flung herself down, as far as she could go while being gripped by two shaved monkeys in gray. They both let go at the same time and fell to the roof, and Kim glanced up just in time to see Ron's mission-booted feet planted right in Shego's kisser. His flared his 'chute and was down a few feet beyond where Shego suddenly decided to take a nap.
"KP! What's a guy to do to get another date with you?" he asked, running back to Kim and shucking off his parafoil. His arms went around her, and she felt her knees start to buckle. "Been having fun without me?" he asked, just before she kissed him soundly.
"Same ol' same ol'," she replied. "But it's better now. Much better." And it was. Kim felt deeply grateful as well as more than a little ashamed. She'd left Ron behind to avoid having to save his life this time, but he'd ended up saving her. She hugged him hard and then reluctantly let him go.
"Ron, I need to find a handheld thing that will neutralize this chemical. It's gray and on the roof somewhere." She glanced around the vicinity, trying to find the small device in the deepening gloom.
"Looking for zis?" a voice boomed. Professor Dementor strolled into Kim's view, holding aloft the neutralizer. He was followed by several of his more beefy henchmen and a gaggle of white-frocked researchers, who looked nervous. "You cannot foil me, Kim Possible. In fact, I should zank you for helping recover my domination potion!" His voice rose on the last two words.
"But... it's... it's an immortality potion!" Kim stammered, confused. Had she gotten it wrong after all? Ron stood by her side, plainly puzzled.
One of the techs behind Dementor blurted, "How did you know that?" Dementor twirled and glared at him.
"What do you mean? Is zis not a potion to dominate ze vorld?" he yelled at the hapless tech, who slowly backed away.
"Um, yes, absolutely, it's your domination potion, you'll rule the world!" the tech wavered.
Kim narrowed her eyes. "He's lying. He didn't develop a domination potion, he developed a chemical that will make everyone immortal." Apparently the guard in her room hadn't been the only one of Dementor's employees with a conscience.
"VHAT?"
Kim felt a strong push from behind, a pain in her arm, and Ron went sprawling. Two of the goons grabbed Kim and chucked her toward the edge of the roof a few feet away. Shego stood by the atomizing tower, disheveled and bloodied, glowing fist pointed at the flask. "I don't care what the stupid thing is," she yelled, at the end of her patience. "Give me money and safe passage or I blow it all up right now!"
Scrabbling on the slick surface with one good hand, Kim continued skidding toward the edge of the roof as Shego ranted. She felt her feet go out over empty space, then her legs, and felt her waist pass the edge. Her frantic scrabbling slowed her down enough so that she finally stopped, but only when she had one hand gripping the stone edge. Kim knew it was a long way to the rocks and surf below.
Ron stood up behind Shego, wobbling a little, and looked at Kim, who'd struggled up onto one elbow, her face just above the edge. He started to take a step to Kim, who shook her head. "Stop Shego!" Kim yelled, feeling her grip loosen. Her chin banged painfully against the stone as she slipped back, unable to use her other arm to pull herself up.
Fingers sliding, Kim felt herself slipping further down the face of the stone building. Her fingertips were barely hanging on, and they finally slipped. She felt the familiar first rush of freefall, but only for a fraction of a second as Ron's strong grip wrapped around her wrist and arrested her fatal plunge. Heaving, he pulled the petite redhead back onto the roof.
"I told you to go for Shego!" Kim chided Ron.
"Might as well tell me to stop breathing," he replied. "Now let's go finish off..." At a sound, they both looked around at the standoff by Dementor's tower.
Dementor charged Shego, bullet head down, a roar of frustration bellowing from the short, thick man. Her hands came up to block him, and the two were suddenly dancing, fists embedded in each others' shirts, as they twirled around. The crazy, screaming pirouette ended when Shego managed to regain solid footing and slam Dementor's back into a console on the tower.
"Scheiße," Dementor muttered, stumbling away from the big red "Activate" switch. His fingers plucked ineffectually at trying to reverse it, but the machinery was already in motion.
It happened in seconds. As Kim and Ron watched - Kim horrified, Ron fascinated - sections of the tower extended up into the black night. Lower, a small pointed hose hovered above the beaker's stopper, then plunged through, down the glass neck and into the anagathic concentrate, sucking the viscous green fluid into the machine's intestines. A rumble began, growing into a whine, until a moist "puff" emanated from the extended length of the tower. Kim smelled nothing, felt nothing, saw nothing. But she knew it had begun.
She had failed to change the future.
Eight minutes, twenty three seconds.
Kim glanced at her countdown watch as she ran, Ron in tow close behind. He'd inhaled enough of Dementor's spray, which was even now wafting across the Mediterranean, to stop the aging process in his body. Kim's body was already long immortal. They were both sterile.
Distracted henchmen made halfhearted grabs for the pair as they wound through Dementor's lair, but for the most part, chaos reigned. Nobody stopped them as they raced through brightly lit corridors.
"Tell me again why we're going deeper into Dementor's lair?" Ron wheezed behind Kim. Only his girlfriend's firm hold on his hand propelled him forward.
"We need an exit strategy," she told the bewildered blond youth stumbling behind her. Blue lines glowed in her vision, and a pink pulsing dot showed her the path to what she was looking for. "Hey, you never told me how or why you were here."
"Oh, like Wade and I were gonna let you be all mysterious," Ron managed. "He called a jet for me the minute I saw you take off from the restaurant. But of course the one I got was slower. Why am I always second string?"
Kim glanced behind, smiling fondly at her tenacious young beau. She was desperately glad to see him, and not just because he saved her. Leaving him behind was a mistake she promised herself she would never again make. If she had the chance.
"Your timing was perfect," she told him. The pink dot was looming closer. Sounds of pursuit closed in from behind. Meaty thuds and a few cut-off screams sounded, and Ron shuddered.
Kim skidded to a stop in front of a door. "Here we go." Six minutes, five seconds. Kim kicked the door off its hinges.
She rooted around, searching for a particular oddly shaped device. Fortunately, the cluttered room was goon-free so she didn't have to waste time making anybody unconscious. Kim found what she was looking for, yelled "Yes!" and plugged it into the phone. Calling up the number she'd gotten earlier from Wade, Kim dialed the transportulator and grabbed Ron's hand. "C'mon Ron, hold tight!" Ring, ring... click.
"Level seventeen security, how can I..." the person on the other end started, as a manic Shego burst into the room, murder in her eye.
"Possible! You're toast, little girl!" the madwoman screamed, and leapt directly at Kim and Ron, who gripped his girlfriend's waist tightly, looking directly at Shego with resolve in his eyes. Kim mashed the "transport" button, and felt a tingle as she was transported across phone lines to an underground complex in Iowa. She had no idea if transporting two people at the same time would work, but she had no choice.
"...direct your ouch!" the voice finished, as Kim and Ron picked themselves off the hapless security guard. Kim grabbed the phone and slammed it down on the receiver, leaned back for a minute, and sighed. It had worked. Just enough time to try one last-ditch contingency plan before bouncing off to the unknown future.
Kim picked the phone back up and dialed zero. "I need to speak with..." quick search query, "Lieutenant Franklin, immediately. It's an emergency."
Four minutes, twenty seconds.
"Franklin."
"This is Kim Possible. I'm on the base and need immediate access to Project Phoebus. It's a matter of life and death, sir."
"Of course, granted. Where are you? I'll assign a security escort..." the phone banged against the wall as Kim grabbed Ron and sped down a corridor. No glowing blue lines guided her here; it wasn't part of her brief. But she recognized the walls from her previous visit, many centuries earlier.
The room was secure, but a guard, apparently just briefed, opened the door in time for Kim and Ron to barrel through. Ron, confused, began asking Kim, "What's the..."
"No time! Ron, when I get under the chair, pull that lever and hit the button." Her eyes pleaded with him. "Please don't ask questions, this is the last weird thing I'll ask. You'll get answers, I promise." Even if it takes fifty thousand years and 300 light years.
Although her time was rapidly counting down to zero, Kim grabbed Ron and kissed him, tears running down her cheeks. She looked him directly in the eyes, but couldn't say anything.
Kim dove into the seat under what looked like a high-tech hair dryer, pulled the headpiece down.
Thirty one seconds.
Ron pulled the barred lever and clicked the button. Kim felt weirdness happening in her head, but had no idea whether the device was actually enhancing her brainpower, as advertised. The only successful test she knew of was on a naked mole rat. Second after tingly second crawled by as the machine did its work. It was going to be close.
A commotion past the open door caught Kim's eyes. Unable to move her head, she glanced right in time to see Shego bound through the door, plasma hands glowing, madness in her eyes. Ignoring Ron, she stalked toward the immobile Kim, locked in the embrace of Project Phoebus. "Not getting away this time, Princess." Despite her manic pose, Shego saw the question in Kim's eyes. "Caller ID." She brought her claws up and aimed her deadly fingers right between Kim's eyes.
"Bye bye, Pumpkin."
Power flared, prepared to blast Kim's head into oblivion. Just before release, Shego's hand jerked up. Ron had rolled a chair into the back of Shego's knees, foiling her aim, shifting the deadly blast from Kim's head to the machine above her. Hot droplets of metal splashed down on Kim before blackness closed over her.
Zero.
Massive headache. Or maybe the first one never went away. Kim blearily opened her eyes, looked around, expecting to see... whatever it was she thought she expected, this wasn't it. She gasped, blinked, breathed hard.
"Good, you're finally awake, Kimmie. We were worried about you." Two people hovered over her reclining form. Behind them, Kim glimpsed her room, complete with cheerleader awards, telescope at the picture window, computer on the desk. Panderoo was by her side.
"Mom? Dad?"