Episode 11: Party hard! —or, Something Lurking in the Shadows

Mallory ended up not taking the bus after the attack, which meant for the price of her dramatic exit, she'd been rewarded with a twenty-minute walk.

The moment she opened the door, Doris called her into the kitchen. She was washing dishes, and a couple of the other kids were still at the dinner table: Charlie, Sarah, Dominic. The old woman eyed her over her sudsy plate. "You're back awful late."

Mallory wasn't hungry; not for food, at least. She shrugged. "I was hanging out with some friends downtown."

The woman looked so taken aback, it gave her the opportunity to escape.

Kyle was fully prepared with the snark. "Hey, you're alive."

Mallory immediately went to her laptop, opening it and bringing up the incognito tabs she had opened before leaving. "A very important case has come up. Top secret. I wouldn't expect you to understand the delicacy of this matter."

Kyle looked amused, his freckled face leering down from the top bunk. "What is it this time? Bigfoot?"

Mallory had her main webpage and all four forums up in different tabs. She began typing: the Trappist-1 lead is a fluke. Soldiers are merely publicity stunts for an upcoming movie—please disregard research for more important matters…

They didn't end up meeting on Sunday at all. Rory was grateful, in the end—she already had to get up early for church that morning, and she had to be a really creative to disguise her bandages under her church clothes.

Monday morning, though, provided an opportunity for them to meet up again, under much better circumstances. She was sitting outside on the deck with Celene, starlight and the mysterious, unseen presence of Trappist-1 pin-pointed somewhere overhead, when Narma messaged her.

girl did you hear about the house party Kevin Butler is throwing?

I don't even know Kevin Butler

neither do I

we should crash it

Rory stared down at the screen pensively. It would be nice for them to just hang out, have some down time. She and Narma hadn't gotten to do that in a while. It might make a good opportunity for them to wind down too after the chaos of the previous days.

yeah, OK.

how would you feel about inviting the others?

There was a long pause with no response. Rory frowned. She knew, in the past, going to parties was something they'd exclusively done together, so she couldn't exactly blame her if she wanted them to go alone.

We don't have to.

A second later, Narma shot back, sorry, I was fixing a tea. Yeah, it's cool. We'll show the babies how to party

Rory snorted. The babies?

they are our children. Our poor hapless offspring

Narma, no!

Narma, yes

Celene stared up to her from the deck. "Aurora? Are you alright?" She bristled. "Perhaps the pithos's venom is still present in your system. We should go to the hospital!"

She'd been like that since the attack in the Needle. Where there such a thing as a hypochondriac-by-proxy? Every time Rory displayed even the vaguest hint of discomfort, Celene was on her, trying to diagnose the problem. What a worry wart. It was kind of sweet, though.

Rory chuckled. "I'm fine, girl. Just thinking." She patted the cat on the head, the creature looking unamused.

Celene peered up at her, eyes squinted with obvious scrutiny. "If you're sure."

Really though, Rory was a bit unsettled. That wasn't because of the bite, though. It was because of what happened whenever she transformed. It was subtle, a change in the way she thought about the people around her; about herself.

Sometimes, just for a minute…it was like she wasn't her anymore.

Not in a "this disguise is causing me to develop an alter ego," way. On a literal level.

Picking up her tea cup, she held the door open for Celene, where the cat hid under her bed. She quietly closed the door behind her.

When she transformed, it was like she stepped out of her body, and someone else stepped in. She'd often have thoughts during a fight that just didn't sound like her, especially when it came to names. At first, it wasn't a big deal. But as time went on, it became as if she were having to fight back against the thoughts. She'd think one thing, then there would be this other thought out of nowhere trying to bulldoze her own. It was…concerning. Were these powers, like, turning her into another person or something?

She pushed her stuff into her backpack. She wanted to believe she was making it up; Narma hadn't mentioned anything like this. Even so, if there was anything to it, there was one way to find out.

She leaned over the side of the bed, peering down to where Celene's tail was sticking out from under the comforter. "Hey, Celene?"

The cat emerged immediately—if Celene were put in a line with ten regular cats, she would immediately be singled out due to how agreeable she was. "What is it, Aurora?"

Rory leaned back down against her comforter. "Is it a normal part of this whole superhero thing for me to start hearing someone else's thoughts?"

Celene, for her own part, looked completely surprised. "You've developed telepathy?"

"No, no." Rory wiped a hand down her face. "That's not what I mean."

Celene jumped on the bed. Rory had to admit, it was kind of nice to have someone who would always listen around. Guess that explains why so many people talk to their pets. Though, Celene was more than a pet. "I guess it's more like, especially when I'm fighting, there's someone else in there, thinking with me."

"Uh huh," Celene's feline jaw was tight.

"And," Rory sat up. "Not only that, but…I still get those dreams. And it's like I'm watching a movie, like the person in the dream isn't me. You know what I mean?"

Celene stretched, eyeing her, "It is natural to feel a sort of disconnect when you are coming into your powers the way you are. It's possible your inate power is setting you to a sort of internal autopilot. I…wouldn't worry about it too much."

Rory frowned, getting up to pull on her tennis shoes. "I guess."

There were many things about these powers she didn't understand. But for now, she just needed to make sure these agent guys stayed in their place. It would be easier to go on journeys of self-discovery when they weren't fighting off snakes.

Biology was one of Carmen's favorite classes, even if it was the first thing she had to deal with on a Monday morning. There was something about the subject that was almost relaxing—not that the class wasn't hard, but that, conceptually, there was something satisfying about observing systems that were perfectly balanced. Everything in its place, working like clockwork, even in living beings.

Her lab partner was more interested in trying to convince her to share her homework than in actually doing the work. He was just going to have to suffer. Maybe that will make you realize you should have done it, she huffed subtly.

That being said, she had to admit, he wasn't the only one distracted. There was just so much going on just then. The fight in the Needle had been brutal, and while they had a forth member now, there was still much about the Agent's plans they didn't know. There were so many things they had left to figure out.

The class was currently covering a unit on energy conversion. She took notes as she peered over the 3-D model in the table-top projection. The cells shifted, absorbing the nutrients in the space, and occasionally one another. The caption read, "Enzymes can enable the body to absorb substances that otherwise may be rejected. Replication of this process artificially has been used to treat lactose intolerance, some allergies, and even major absorption disorders, allowing the subject to utilize the given substance as an energy source—"

The sight of the little cells eating one another sparked something in her mind, and realization struck. "Oh my gosh," she blurted aloud. She blushed as the class turned to look at her.

The teacher lowered her pointer from her own model. "Something the matter, Ms. Rodriguez?" She raised a hard, white brow.

Carmen raised her hands before herself. "No! Sorry! It's just so…interesting!"

Maybe she did know why the Agents needed the star souls.

"What's up with her?"

At lunch, peering up from her sandwich, Rory turned her eyes in the direction Narma was pointing with a fry.

Still unnerved by her lack of control over her own darn brain, Rory went on the offensive as soon as she saw Carmen power-walking towards the lunch table, expression full of purpose. Oh no. Did something happen? "What's going on?" She shot out immediately.

Freezing, the girl blinked at her. "Wha—? Nothing. Nothing's happened, Rory." Her eyes softened, then gained the glimmer of focus. "But, I think I may know what they need the souls for."

She spread a couple of sheets of paper on the table, and they scooched their lunches over. They were labeled "malabsorption" and "vaccinations."

"If you're about to reveal that you're an anti-vaxer, we're going to have a problem," said Narma.

Carmen gave her a frown. "No, of course not. But I think the star souls are supposed to do something similar to this." She pointed out a model describing the composition of a vaccine. "With vaccines, a sample of the virus is used to help make the receiver immune to the living agent."

Narma raised an eyebrow. "We know how vaccines work, Carmen."

"Right, sorry." She shook her head, pointing to the other picture. "There have also been malabsorption treatments in recent years in which they use exposure in a similar way. They're basically teaching the cells how to absorb certain nutrients using enzymes."

Narma scooted over, letting the girl squeeze in beside her. Rory thought Narma was gradually warming up to her—teasing was a classic marker of Narma Friendship.

Carmen raised her eyes from the papers, leaning further on the table. She lowered her voice. "If we're right about the sun, what if it's the same thing? It would take an enormous amount of energy to absorb a star. Or, at least, you would think so. And the compositions of different stars can be a wildly different." She folded her hands together. "We star souls and from that star system. What if we're like the dead virus, or the sample nutrients? It needs the star souls to learn how to absorb the star. That's why they came all the way out here for us."

"Holy shit," Narma said, staring down at the spread. "Girl did some homework."

Carmen blushed. "I mean, this is still just a theory."

Rory leaned back, crossing her arms behind her head. "Better than what I could come up with."

Narma said, "It's the assumption we'll work off of until something proves us wrong." She turned to Carmen. "Hey, do you know Kevin Butler?"

Carmen stared back at her, seemingly thrown off by the sudden subject change. "Um. No, I don't?"

"Good," said Narma. "We're crashing his party tonight. You should come."

Rory appreciated Narma being the one to offer. She felt bad that she been spending so much time with Carmen instead of her. They'd been pretty much an exclusive pair for years. It did feel weird, suddenly having other people in their bubble.

"I—" The girl hesitated. "Okay." Her lip twitched up, eyes brightening.

Rory leaned back on the table. "You should text Mallory. We can all go together."

Carmen scratched her cheek. "Somehow, I can't imagine her at a party. Yeah, give me a minute."

Mallory got the text when she was on her way home from school. It was a 2-hour early dismissal, a teacher workday, so she was just hoofing it. No reason to waste money on the bus.

We're going to a party this afternoon. Want to come?

Mallory regarded the message, slowing down on the sidewalk. She pictured Carmen's big-eyed expression. When was the last time I went to a party? Actually, when's the last time that I just hung out with other people? Outside of a professional sense, of course. Maybe she could use some time to unwind.

As she approached the home, her steps slowed. There was a cop car sitting in front of the house.

She stopped. She was torn. Technically, she hadn't done anything. But depending on what they knew, talking to them could raise some really inconvenient questions.

But then an officer by the cars turned and saw her, and the choice was made for her.

She played it casual. She kept her head down—maybe they didn't know it was her, specifically. She kept her hands in her hoodie, turning to climb the steps of the home, the officer's gaze on her back. "Excuse me," she heard a voice called from behind her, "miss? Are you Mallory Dunbar?"

She froze. Damn.

Turning, she picked a card. And it was the orphan card. She fired back, "Not if my parents had their say in the matter, I wouldn't be." She raised a brow at him.

Immediate discomfort. You could tell the man had been dreading an encounter like this by the way he clutched his belt, glancing down the street. "Miss, we need to ask you some questions."

She took a breath. "Sure."

As soon as she entered the house, Doris and two cops were waiting on her. She swallowed—she hadn't expected so many cops. Immediately, Doris bristled. "Girl, what trouble have you gotten into?"

Doris, her caretaker, wasn't a bad woman. Stern—you could tell she'd handled a number of bad eggs over the years—but not hateful. A lot of the time, though, they stayed in contention over a number of little things: the evidence she would occasionally leave in the refrigerator, her hours coming in and out of the house, her living allowance. This, for Doris, was new.

Mallory didn't hold it against her to assume that she'd been the one doing the Bad Thing here. There were three cops in her house. Mallory took a breath. Keep your cool. This is all going to go exactly as it is meant to. "I was told you guys have some questions for me."

The cops sat her down in the middle of the kitchen. They explained how they'd tracked her down based on the security guard's description, and the credit card number she'd used to reserve the space. Sloppy. She had to remember to use cash next time. Though, after nearly falling to her death, she wasn't especially keen on going back to the Space Needle anytime soon.

"The glass in the window was busted out, but no one seems to be able to remember what happened. The cameras were knocked out too. The security guard said you were there that night, and you were the only one unaccounted for when the civilians woke up. What can you tell us about what happened?"

Doris tapped her foot loudly from the kitchen's entrance, trying to look as if she weren't watching.

Ah. You've shown your hand. 'The cameras were out.' The truth was the smartest response here. "It was those monsters."

"Oh, for cripes sake," Doris groaned.

But the officer leaned forward, pen poised over his note pad. "Monsters?"

If the cameras were out, they had no way of confirming when she left. "The ones from the news," she said. "They showed up while I was having my meeting. They seemed to be controlling those people. When I saw them, I booked it down the stairs. I don't know what happened to the window." Well, almost the truth.

Damn, though, if she didn't know what happened to the window. She hadn't said anything the previous day, because it seemed so minor compared to everyone's injuries, but the window had cut up her back real nice. She looked like a blind man's cutting board from behind.

The officer pursed his lips. "You understand this is hard to believe."

"Maybe they were terrorists," Mallory said, not breaking eye contact. You had to hold your ground under this kind of pressure. "Maybe some kind of noxious gas is causing everyone to hallucinate. That would be an easier explanation, wouldn't it? I don't know why people are seeing these creatures all over town. Unless you can give me a better explanation, that's all I got for you."

The officer stared her down. "…The security officer, Marge, mentioned there was another girl with you."

Probably trying to catch her in a lie. Admittedly, she'd been trying to keep Carmen's name out of it. "My friend, Carmen. She left the same time I did." She thought about it, making sure she had her facts straight. "They blocked the elevator, so we both took the stairs."

The cop stared for a moment more before clicking his pen closed. "We'll be in touch. If you think of anything else…"

Mallory leaned back in the kitchen chair. "I'll definitely let you know." She examined her nails, knowing full well there was nothing to see there. She hoped the action said, "I don't plan on calling you any time soon."

The cops stood, beginning to turn away. Then stopped. "One more question, Ms. Dunbar. Why did you make your reservation under an assumed name?"

She put a finger to her lips. "The government isn't too keen on conspiracy theorists like me. Merely for my own protection."

The cop said, "…right," turning to leave again.

Those words, she'd found, were an automatic out when people were taking you too seriously. Her field was widely discredited. Jokes on you, though. Must be weird, being the one the conspiracy is being hidden from this time.

Once the cops had gone, she knew what was coming. She immediately got up and moved towards her room.

Doris yelled after her, "Where are you going?"

The hall was full of eavesdropping kids, and she breezed past them. "Don't worry; I'm going to my room."

Doris wasn't done. She could practically hear her jaw clenching. "This isn't going to happen again. You stay out of trouble!"

Mallory ducked further into her hoodie. The urge to escape only grew by the second. She raised a thumbs up. "You got it, chief," she said before confining herself to her room.

Kyle wasn't in. He was going to be pissed he missed the shit show. Moving to her bed, she dumped her backpack on the floor before taking a seat on her mattress.

This was a bit of a miscalculation. She was doubtful Doris was going to let her out at night any time soon without a fight. Not ideal. She couldn't abandon her work now though, especially now that she was actually a part of something.

Pulling her phone back up, she addressed the unanswered text. She glanced towards her window, cracked open to let in the warm spring air. Considering, she replied:

Place and time. I'll be there.

Narma looked out on the lawn, the expanse of green untouched by anyone but probably a gardener. This place was bigger than though not as fancy as Carmen's, and already, the sun just setting, adolescents were spilling out the front door, red, biodegradable cups in hand. She took a strong sniff of the air. "You smell that?"

From behind, Carmen was fiddling with her nails, peering from one side of the yard to the other as if something was going to jump out at her. Reasonable. She hesitated. "…what…are you smelling?"

Narma turned back to her. "That's the smell of hormones and junk food. And also fresh-cut grass." She put her hands on her hips. "It's a house party."

Behind them, Narma saw a dark shape fill in the space in the sidewalk. "I have arrived." Mallory tossed her head back, freeing herself of the hood.

Rory grinned over at her in excitement. "Ah, what are we waiting for?" Throwing both of her arms fully in the air, she ran towards the building as if it were a mirage, and she was a man lost in the desert, screaming "Whooo!"

Without further ado, they unstealthily snuck their way into the house. Once inside, it was a free for all. People were dancing, a table was lined up with drinks, music pounded as a projector shot spots of light into every corner of the room.

She turned to the other two, shooing them with her hands. "Run wild!"

Carmen and Mallory looked at each other. Carmen said, "Um. Okay?"

"I'm getting a drink," Mallory said immediately.

"Run wild," Narma repeated; her expert advice was going to waste here. Scanning the room, she said "There—" pointing to a Just Dance set-up at the front of the room. She grabbed Carmen's hand. "We're doing that."

"Really?" The girl was dragged behind her as they gathered at the edge of the crowd.

Narma said, "You first."

Rory didn't drink at these things, but she knew how to party. "Whoo!" she yelped, trouncing over to join them. "This place is slammed!" She passed Narma a cup, which, knowing Rory, was probably just full of soda. Narma would have to spring for a Malibu and coke at the first opportunity. Rory toasted her, smiling. "To Kevin Butler!"

Narma clinked their cups together. "To Kevin Butler." The game freed up, and Narma nudged Carmen in the shoulder. "Your turn. Get out there."

Carmen squeaked, forcing herself out onto the empty floor as the song started up.

She and Rory watched for a few minutes, the lights flashing over them as they sipped their drinks. "Hey," Narma said, "she's pretty good."

She felt a warmth in her chest as Rory leaned on her shoulder. Peering over, her best friend had a tranquil expression Narma hadn't seen in a number of months. Rory grinned at her. "This was a great idea," she said.

Narma straightened. "This is why you never doubt me."

Rory punched her arm. "Okay, Ms. Big Shot."

A shape shuffled up from the kitchen. "This place is a disaster zone," Mallory said. She almost looked like an entirely different person, glasses clear in the dim light, hoodie totally unzipped, hanging off of her like a robe. "It's great."

Narma grinned. "And it's better, because we're crashing it."

"That is better," said Mallory, taking a swig of her beer.

Carmen was facing off with some guy Narma didn't know, trying to replicate the decidedly not-catchy dance moves on screen as the crowd shouted encouragement around them. "Yeah," Narma called out. "Crush him!"

Rory turned to her as Carmen won, the two of them clapping enthusiastically as the next challenger approached. Her eyes sparkled. "We should go get in some trouble."

That was classic Rory code. It meant, let's go pull a prank.

"Sure." They backed up, moving out of the crowd.

The sense of nostalgia that fell over her was powerful. This was tradition: they had to go off and do something mischievous if ever they attended a party. It was half the fun of crashing them. This was their thing. "What did you have in mind?"

Rory launched into her idea. "So they have lawn gnomes outside. I was thinking we could take all of them and put them—"

Mallory watched Carmen come down off the mat. The girl had some moves. She wondered vaguely if she had some sort of dance or gymnastic background, but the alcohol was already beginning the make all her edges pleasantly fuzzy. They were under constant surveillance at the home, so she rarely got the opportunity to let loose. That meant that, embarrassingly, she was a bit of a lightweight.

Carmen grinned at her bashfully as she came out of the gaming area. "That was fun! You should try."

"Eh. I'm not really the dancing type." She gestured back towards the kitchen. "Hey. Come with me—I'll show you where the drinks are."

The girl followed her through the crowd, her distinctly taller figure clear in her periphery. "Um, I'm not sure if drinking is for me."

Mallory cleared her throat, leaning what she hoped was smoothly against the kitchen's island. "I would never condone pressuring anyone to go beyond their limits, but." Her words were already running together a bit—maybe she could make it seem like a natural part of her more casual persona, rather than a result of her measly single beer. "I think it would do some wonders for that anxiety of yours." She hadn't really meant to phrase it like that. Her filter wasn't the best once drink had been introduced into the equation.

Carmen's smile slipped, the girl pausing before moving to lean against the bar as well. "…wow, so it's…pretty obvious, then?"

"No," she shook her head in what was maybe too much of an exaggerated motion. "Nuh nuh no. You actually hide it pretty well. Just looking at you, I don't think anyone would be able to tell. I'm just practiced in examining body talk, you know, language. That sort of thing. I figured this is probably out of your comfort zone, though."

Carmen folded her arms over her chest. Withdrawing. Damn. Again, not ideal. "You've got me pegged, huh?"

Damn. Fuck. Change the subject. She had to figure out a way to turn off her analytical side someday. "But you did come," Mallory amended, finishing off her beer.

Carmen frowned. "I don't want to be," she said. "I don't want to be like this. I like people. I want to be more open, but. I guess I've gotten so used to being brushed off at home…I don't know. It's hard for me to feel like I'm important anywhere."

Okay, well, this took a turn. Even so, Mallory couldn't help but feel a connection with Carmen's analysis. "Yeah, I know what that's like."

Carmen turned, raising her brows. "Really?"

Mallory shifted, dropping the bottle into a recycling bin near her feet. "Yeah. There are a bunch of us at home, so sometimes it just feels like we're…I don't know how to put it. Expendable? Extraneous? Like everything would be the same, whether we were there or not. But maybe that's just me. Not that it matters—things are just as they were meant to be, so I have to believe it's all heading somewhere."

Carmen's soft smile returned. "That's right. A determinist."

Okay, she was getting rambly. Folks were having to move around them to get to the snacks, the background music peppered with their irritated grumblings. She had to get this back on track somehow. "But, hey," she swept a hand in Carmen's direction. "You really stepped up in the tower the other day."

Carmen frowned. "The…tower?"

"The Needle." Come on, words; you can do it. "You were taking charge and kicking ass." She gesticulated some kung-fu, watching with satisfaction as the dejected expression on Carmen's face brightened prettily with pink. "I was impressed. That seems like progress to me."

The girl giggled. "I guess the whole superpower thing is a bit of a confidence booster. Plus, Rory and Narma are really nice. I guess you could say I was kind of popular in that weird, meaningless high school sense, but I didn't really have many friends before this." Lowering her hand from her mouth, she grinned softly. "I was a little worried, but I'm glad you turned out to be nice too."

Under the yellow kitchen lights, Mallory hoped Carmen thought the heat in her face was from the beer. "Well," she responded, "if I'm in the good graces of someone as pretty as you, I must be doing something right."

Carmen's eyes widened, surprise falling over her features. "Oh. Um?"

That wasn't smooth at all. Abort, abort! Mallory groaned in her chest, the sound mercifully drowned out by the noise of the crowd. She swung bodily away from the island. "I'mmm gonna get some air. My head is swimming a little."

"Oh. Okay?"

She moved through the crowd towards the door. Stupid! Why did she think that was a good idea? She'd known Carmen for like 72 hours; she barely knew anything about her, much less that. Damn you, alcohol! She shuffled out the door into the cool night air, the sounds of the party dampening. She would get some air, sober up, then head back inside as if nothing had happened.

She pulled her hoodie on more firmly, the scepter clunking around in her pocket. Moving around the side of the house, she finally found a spot without any partygoers. She leaned against the wall—leaning was, really, her default stance—and waited. Closing her eyes, she listened to the sound of the music thumping within the house while she chilled out.

She frowned when she heard the crinkling of grass. Of course, why did she think there was anywhere to be alone at a party. She opened her eyes. "Hey, do you mind? I'm trying—"

She stopped short. This guy didn't look like a rowdy teenager—he was just a guy. Dark, slick hair, blue eyes, and a patterned shirt.

Wait a minute.

She recognized that pattern.

Oh fuck.

She got out a short yelp before the man's hand clamped over her mouth.

Rory cheerfully picked up the third gnome, wiping the dirt off in the grass. She passed it off to Narma. "So, this one can go in the washing machine-"

Narma grunted, re-adjusting the gnomes in her arms. "Hey, you're going to have to carry some of these too, you know."

Rory laughed. "I know, we've still got three more—"

The yell broke across the yard, both of their gazes shooting up to locate the sound.

Anyone passing might think it was commotion from the party. But with the turn their lives had taken, Rory nor Narma were prone to brushing things off recently. They looked at each other.

Without speaking, they dropped the gnomes, sprinting towards the other side of the house.

When they turned the corner, Rory's heart stopped. "No!"

Lupido. For a few seconds, she saw the Agent, his arm locked around Mallory, peering over to them in surprise...then gratification.

Then, he thrust his free arm in the air. Something, the only word she could think of was a portal, burst into being. In the blur, she could make out a star scape, an expanse of gray, maybe a building? A huge burning mass in the background—

He stepped back and was gone before they could get to him.

The portal closed behind him.