The Melter was a big-time Iron Man villain of the sixties. He co-founded the Masters of Evil. Unfortunately, he had a lousy gimmick. Eventually, he was shot in the head by a vigilante, and no-one cared.

Abigail Horgan had almost finished her study. It was a three-page essay on microwaves. Most people might think that a bit out of the range of a normal high-school student. But Abigail Horgan was not, strictly speaking, ordinary. She was the daughter of the late industrialist Bruno Horgan, who'd left a sizeable sum for her education. It had paid off, and then some. Abigail was about to graduate two years early.

She did it well, too. She sometimes wondered why no-one else could keep up with her. Maybe it was the money. Maybe everyone could concentrate like this, with her breaks. Her mother sometimes joked that she was a mutant. Not very often, though.

She put down the pen. There. Now to check for errors, and she could –

There was a flash of light, and the Grandmaster appeared.

Abigail blinked. "What do you want?" she said.

The Grandmaster was surprised. She was taking this much better than the first two. "I want your help in a matter. A matter which concerns you father – "

"No," she said, and picked up the sheet again.

"You didn't hear what it was."

"I don't need to. I know who and what my father was."

"And who was he?"

"He was the Melter. A supercriminal who fought the Avengers. He was killed by a man called the Scourge of the Underworld. And now you think I'll fill his shoes? I know what crime entails, Mister Whoever-You-Are, and there is no way I will help – what's that?"

She was pointing at the floating gem. "This? This is the technological singularity of an alien race. Quite a powerful supercomputer."

Her eyes widened at this. "A singularity? How did you get it?"

"I acquired it in a game of chance. Treasures like these attract me, and I attract treasures. But the thing is useful."

"Can I hold it?"

The Grandmaster grinned for a moment. "A trade? If you agree to my offer, I will give you a computer of comparable power and breadth."

Abigail reached forward, then stopped. "How do I know this isn't some trick to enslave humanity through computers?"

The Grandmaster grinned. "Young lady, with this device I could enslave humanity from here. But I have no intention of doing so. It would detract from my playing time. Now, will you accept?"

Abigail hesitated a moment. She'd always backed away before. But a computational singularity! The information in the device alone would be worth whatever she had to go through to. "Alright."

"You'll need your father's helmet."

She grinned. "I found it a few years ago. It's obsolete. I can design a better one, given the right tools."

The Grandmaster looked at her with newfound respect. "Then you and I have much to discuss."