17. A Hive at the Opera part 6
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Jinx sat on the edge of a wooden dock upriver of the WestHaven Opera House. Her legs dangled over water turned murky under the night's sky. A dim lantern hung on a wooden post above her pink head and shone on her fingers as she monotonously opened and flipped closed the heart-shaped locket in her hand. Her face was blank. Her cat eyes round. Her shoulders in a sag.
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With each blink of the locket, Fate and Fortune showed their pretty faces. They smiled at the camera with a slate gray wall behind them. The result of a photo booth excursion a year or two before H.I.V.E. came into their lives.
All of their lives.
Every now and then, Jinx would glance at them, unblinking. They appeared and disappeared from her gaze with the same frequency that they haunted her dreams.
Clip.
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There was a low rumbling sound. It growled over the lapping waters that jumped more and more with intensity.
Jinx quickly closed her delicate hand over the locket, sighed, and hid it away in her blouse. She rested her elbows on her knees and watched lazily…ungracefully…as a small motorboat drifted over to the dock, moored, and cut off its engines. Out from the cabin, a thick-bodied giant of a teen emerged. He took one look at Jinx through his cloud-white eyes and chuckled.
"Well this is a change," Mammoth grumbled. "Usually the fair maiden is present to christen the ship when it casts off. But we're all too young for Champaign, aren't we?"
Jinx giggled whole-heartedly, then abruptly stuck her tongue out at her partner and returned to perturbed solemnity. "Let's keep things quiet, Mammoth."
"Yeah, snotball!" squealed Gizmo as he hopped out of the control booth and dashed about the deck, gathering rope. "In case you haven't thought it through in your thick head, we're supposed to be 'slipping in under the cover of darkness'! That doesn't mean yapping your filthy mouth off!"
"Look who's yapping, shorty!" Mammoth grumbled. "You're the leader of this mission and yet you're nothing but a common hypocrite!"
"Oooh! Mammoth learns big words!" Gizmo tossed him the rope. "Fasten us in good, gutlick!"
Mammoth hopped onto the dock and tethered the boat to it. "Why so quiet, Jinx? Usually you're insulting the both of us by now."
"Not in the mood."
"Oh. That time of month?"
She glared. "If luck would have it."
"Yeah, look at you, Jinx!" Gizmo posed himself on the bow of the boat and smirked. "You look like you had to toss a bunch of kittens into the river in a bag or something!"
"I'm tired, Gizmo," Jinx mumbled, then jumped up gracefully towards the center of the dock. "Let's just set up for the Show already."
"And I've got just the thing for if Killer Moth decides to turn on us at the last second!" Gizmo hopped into the cabin, scrounged around, and reemerged with a huge translucent orb that the little person hugged to his chest. "Can you guess what this baby is??"
Jinx put a hand to her hip. "Your mom's toilet float?"
"Hahaha!" Mammoth cackled. "That's the Jinx I know!"
She smiled.
"It's an explosive, photonic amplifier, you marshmallow puke!" Gizmo stuck his little tongue out. "This thing has enough electric illumination to blind everyone in a convention hall, not to mention attract every giant moth from a radius of two miles! And when Killer Moth's winged monkeys converge on it, the C4 inside will send them off to college! It's like God's illegitimate front porch bug zapper! Ha ha!"
"Yeah! Awesome!" Mammoth meatheadedly cheered. "We've got the final wildcard over that costumed freak! The Khaza Jewel is as good as ours!"
Suddenly, a light blinked through the skin of each H.I.V.E. student's shoulder. They paused in their actions for a moment. A chill ran through them like an invisible, arctic wind. And then they all started breathing normal again as if nothing had happened.
"Guess the Bosses want us all to quit yapping," Mammoth murmured.
"Cram it…and I was gonna have so much fun explaining how all this stuff works…," Gizmo mumbled, tossing the photonic amplifier sphere back in with the rest of the equipment. He pulled out a grappling hook of sorts and beamed. "Here, Jinx." He tossed it at her.
He grabbed it and spun it around her fingers via trigger. "Lemme guess….to nab the jewel."
"You're the luckiest shot of us all," Gizmo winked his speck of an eye. "Let's see if we can make this a drive through case. I've got a Deep Space Nine marathon to catch back at headquarters. Can't let life spend itself away." He and Mammoth hopped back towards the cabin to gather more supplies.
Jinx holstered the weapon and cleared her throat. "Ahem…there're Titans here."
The other two froze. They turned around and looked at her.
"What the Hancock?" Gizmo remarked. "Titans?"
She nodded. "And I'll have you know, I just read one of their rookies the black card."
"You were supposed to deliver a threatening message from H.I.V.E.," Gizmo said through gritted teeth. "NOT attract unwanted customers!!"
"You know I'm not one to slip up," Jinx said, deadpan. "Undoubtedly it was that sloppy Killer Moth and his blonde litter box of a daughter that led a trail to where we now stand. I sure hope H.I.V.E. wants Mrs. Calico's jewel badly enough. Cuz our unwitting partners have a few guests."
"And you think that gave you the excuse to smash in the skull of one of those nosejobs and raise Cain?!" Gizmo shook.
Jinx's cat eyes narrowed. "It was fate."
"Don't give me that crud! There's no luck to you, you anorexic troll! Just estrogen and a bad attitude!"
"HA!!!!!" Jinx suddenly flicked her wrist. A two pieces of dice fell on the boat beneath Gizmo, snake-eyed, sparkled, and shot forth a restraining web of pink energy that shocked and zapped every moving limb Gizmo had.
"AAAAAH!! AAAAAAH!! KNOCK IT OFF!!"
"You should learn to respect luck," Jinx's frown turned into an equally grave grin. "Before luck loses its respect for you…"
She clenched her fists and the pink energy started to constrict painfully around Gizmo.
The little person struggled and gasped in desperation under the weight of the electrocuting strands.
THUMP!
Mammoth stomped into a fighting pose in front of the witch. "Let him go…Jinx," he said deeply. "Don't make me hurt you."
"And what if you do?" she cocked her head and eyed him with disdain. "If you beat me up, the tracking device H.I.V.E. planted in my neck will notify our Bosses as to my casualty. Then they'll get a signal soon afterwards that Gizmo's tracking device is no longer reading life signs. You'd be the last one standing, Mammoth. And since H.I.V.E. doesn't give out mere fractions of grades, you'll be dealt with….severely."
Mammoth growled. He stared at Gizmo. Then at Jinx again.
"Let him go…please…"
Jinx lowered her eyelids. She sighed, then blasted the die with hex.
In a blink, the pink field disappeared. Gizmo fell back against the cabin wall, gasping for breath.
"Get the equipment and drag it to the opera house," she mumbled. She turned around and paced away. "Hope you all crammed for the test tomorrow night. For I've been doing nothing but 'studying' for the last few days."
-T-T-T-T-T-
After sneaking out of Mr. Anderson's room, Beast Boy made a B-Line for the attic. It was a pestiferous task in and of itself, morphing from bird to snake to mouse to lizard and to bird again to avoid detection. But night had fallen. A great deal of the workers had gone home, save for those preparing the entranceway and parking fields of the WestHaven Opera House. Sooner than naught, Beast Boy was on the third floor and back in Elf form. He bounded towards the door to the room, swung it open, and froze upon reaching the doorway.
He blinked.
Sandy stared back, sitting on the bed.
"…..," Beast Boy stared. "…..um….I guess I shouldn't be so surprised that you're sitting there and waiting for a Teen Titan to burst in through the door."
Sandy shook her head. "It's okay. I've figured it all out.
"Sheesh," Beast Boy mumbled to himself. "Is she omnipotent or something?"
"No need for me to be aggrandized," she said, looking quaintly out the window. "Quite simply, people aren't as able to hide secrets as they assume."
"I can see that," Beast Boy quickly shut the door and padded over. "So…you mad at me?"
She looked up at him. "A little, yes. If Mrs. Cartwright was to find out that 'Mr. Allenthorpe' was a fake, concocted by a mute sword-swinger and a green parrot, then I'd hate to see the day."
Beast Boy winced and tried to ignore the implications of her last statement. "So…how could you tell?"
"There were many signs," she said. "I already explained it to your friend a few hours before. One thing I failed to mention him is the outfit you all used for Allenthorpe Jr."
"What about it? I like my fashion statements!" Beast Boy replied.
"And so do I," Sandy said. "Though logically, it would have benefited you in a much more benevolent way to have selected something of more modern and less nostalgic attire."
"Enough with the multi-syllabic words!" Beast Boy gripped his head and pleaded to the volunteer girl with open arms. "What do you want from us? I-I'm kinda sorta busy now. I got to radio in…ya know…the rest of the Titans. Turns out there's a situation at this opera house that could threaten your precious Show tomorrow night! Many people at risk! Bad bombing! Do you understand?"
Sandy nodded. "As much as I'm capable of understanding. I already told your partner that—no matter what—I'm staying here. I won't ditch my friends in a time of trouble."
"Suit yourself," Beast Boy wandered over towards the other side of the room and tried switching on his communicator. "But I tell you what, the whole situation is getting uglier and uglier."
"Why do you say that?"
The green elf glanced at Sandy, paused, and shook his head. "Never you mind. It's not happy."
Silence.
Sandy interjected again, "Does it have something to do with Mr. Anderson?"
Beast Boy did a double-take. "Whaaaa---who are you, anyways?"
"Like I said. No one. I know things because I don't stress about them," Sandy said matter-of-factly. "And if you're wondering, it's no big secret that Mr. Anderson is a sketchy character. He's already been investigated for tax evasion, banking fraud, and insider trading. It's a wonder that he gets away with every crooked thing that he does. A man of that age and deplorable nature is a shoe-in for some sort of threatening occurrence at the Opera House which he owns but barely visits anymore."
"Do you get out much?" Beast Boy squeaked.
"Enough as I need to."
"Just wondering. You kinda have me concerned."
"I would like to know what we're dealing with," Sandy said.
Beast Boy regarded her silently, then finally blurted. "Killer Moth."
Sandy gripped her throat.
"….and H.I.V.E. At least one of their assassins. There's gonna be a hostage situation tomorrow unless my friends and I can sting all the bad guys before the killer bugs can sting everyone else. This was supposed to be a covert operation based on a lead we had."
"I didn't know it was that bad…," Sandy spoke listlessly. "Is there actually….a hive of those creatures here?"
"I've been looking for hours on end, listening to every criminal I could put my animalistic ear to and still no sign of a clear location!" Beast Boy moaned, then stared at the floor. His shoulders shrunk. "I've done a nice job of blowing things too…"
"How do you mean?"
"It's….m-my partner. I….I-I dragged him through all this," the green elf said quietly and looked away from her. "I was so excited to be the captain of a mission for once…I…I overreacted. I lost my cool and he dealt with the brunt of it. It all seemed to be working just fine. Then Jinx from H.I.V.E. showed up and started raining light fixtures and verandahs down on people. Then it just became downright scary. And…And…."
"I'm sure your fellow Titan respects you, Mr. Beast Boy," Sandy stood up and sauntered over by his side. "But…assuming he's not like that 'Tamaranian girl' the newspapers talk about, he's only human. And humans can come to odds with other humans sometimes. Including humans who are sometimes animals."
Beast Boy turned around and tried to smirk as he said. "We should have you come by the Tower sometime. You'd be a great therapist."
"Sorry. I only volunteer."
"Pfft…as if I could pay you," Beast Boy said, chuckled, and sighed. "This is turning into a big mess. Maybe Cyborg will have a word of advice for me when I call home."
Sandy suddenly—awkwardly—giggled.
Beast Boy looked up at her, eyebrow raised. "What's making that come out of you?"
"The rumors are true," she said, hiding a smirk and looking down at him. "You *are* short in person."
Beast Boy's eyes bugged. He frowned, crossed his arms, turned into a giraffe, stuck a green tongue out, and shrunk back into elf form. "Don't be so superficial."
She giggled again.
Beast Boy finally smiled. "Well…always nice to make a girl laugh. What's next on my life's checklists…"
"May I ask you something?" Sandy asked.
"Sure…why not."
"What is his name?"
"Whose name?"
"Your partner. The new Titan."
Beast Boy waved. "Noir. Or so he says. It'll become household soon enough."
"Noir…," Sandy nodded. "Not easy to hand sign."
"You can talk to him??" Beast Boy did a double-take.
"And you can't? You're his partner!"
"Y-Yeah," Beast Boy scratched his neck and sweatdropped. "We're all working on that…"
Sandy walked over and looked out the window. "I would have asked him earlier, but he was in such a hurry to leave."
"Leave??" Beast Boy jumped. "Leave where?"
Sandy pointed out the window. "Last I saw of him, he was running into the forest. I think he was after somebody."
Beast Boy jumped onto the bed and grabbed Sandy's shoulders. He leaned in to her at face level. "Do you remember *seeing* who he was after?"
"N-No…I'm afraid not," Sandy replied. "But I did recall a streak of pink light and he—"
"DAAAH!" Beast Boy pratfalled and rolled off the bed, biting his nails. "It's Jinx! Jinx! Noir can't fight Jinx all by himself!! What was he thinki—oh yeah, rookie. Dang it! I have to go after him!"
The changeling bounded towards the doorway.
"Wait!" Sandy extended a hand. "What are we talking about here? Is Noir in deep trouble?"
"Depends on if he's lucky or not!" and he closed the door in a blink.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
A full moon gazed down at the back lawn of the opera house as Beast Boy ran out on two feet, surveying the area frantically. When he saw that the coast was clear, he sprinted for the forest. He was about to morph into something faster—an antelope perhaps—when something he saw halted him in his tracks with a gasp.
There was a parting in the forest. Two trees were leaning precariously upon their roots. Much of their bark and branches had been shredded. Just a few meters off and into the grass region was a streak or two of torn soil, like a body had slid roughly across the earth.
Beast Boy padded over to the soft earth and knelt, studying it up close. He swiftly turned into a green bloodhound and sniffed the area. After a while, he whimpered to himself and looked at the lake. A pause. He morphed into a roadrunner and flitted over towards the water's edge. He turned into an anteater and once again sniffed, this time around the water's edges. The green animal paused. It switched to an otter and stuck its head into the waters, squinting. It pulled its head out, shook the water droplets off, and turned into a green eagle. Beast Boy flew high into the air, wings spread wide, and glided over the bulk of the lake. He peered down, cocking his head from one side to the other, scanning expertly the depths of the waters. Something glinted in the direct moonlight. Something dark. The eagle shrieked, switched into a pelican, and dive-bombed straight at the distant form.
SPLASH!!!
Two meters beneath the surface, the pelican turned into a green dolphin and shot itself downwards like a torpedo. There Beast Boy found the body of his partner, lifeless. The arms drifted as limply as the neck and head. Black hair streamed everywhere like an obsidian halo. The dolphin turned into an alligator, grabbed a scruff of the Titan's jumpshirt, and swam to shore, pulling the body with him.
When Beast Boy broke surface, he switched to a gorilla and effortlessly carried his waterlogged partner to dry land. Then he spread him over, face up, and returned to elf mode.
"Noir!!" he cried desperately, pressing his pointed ear to the Titan's chest. Beast Boy went numb all over. He couldn't feel a pulse he feared wasn't there. "Noir!! Come on, dude! Come on!!" He rubbed the Titan's wrists, pressed his chest, slapped his face. "No….No No No No No No!! I…..you….n-not here….not now. Why'd you do it? Why'd I let you?! Noir?! NOIR?!?!"
Silence.
Beast Boy hyperventilated. The world turned dizzy for him. He sat back, scrunched his legs up to his chest, and clutched his head in two trembling hands. His eyes twitched. Lake water dripped off his green hair and streamed down his cheek, camouflaging fresh tears.
Silence.
Beast Boy rocked back and forth.
Silence.
I twitched.
Beast Boy stopped. His eyes went wide.
I shuddered. Shook. Curled into a fetus position, shivering all over.
"N-Noir!!" Beast Boy jumped over and put a hand on my shoulder.
I swiftly batted his hand away with my trembling wrist. He fell back, watching in confusion.
I struggled—hectically—onto my knees and bent over. I opened my mouth and a stream of lake water poured out in a torrent. Then a cloud murk wafted out from my throat magically before rising to the sky. With the barrier gone, I lifted my torso straight to the moon and performed the biggest gasp of inhalation in my natural life. My arms shook with the feat. My face tensed. No sooner had I breathed in, I bent over again and hacked my lungs out. Fluid streamed out of my mouth that the murk couldn't hold back. My black eyes popped open. Everything was fuzzy and twisted. Then my lungs were empty again. I fell back, twirling to my side, and wheezed heavily again for breath. My body spasmed as I hacked out more liquid and fought for a balance of oxygen.
Hours of intense meditation had kept the water from pouring into my lungs. A wall of murk formed in my mouth, nostrils, and other orifices, keeping the pressure of the lake at bay. At the same time, I mingled together the energies of Construction and Destruction to form a fissure through which I could slow my perception of time and have access to my respiration and metabolism. It was a tough feat—not one I could carry on indefinitely. But it did last me nearly three hours. I had no guarantee that I would survive. But the human will is an amazing thing.
I coughed and wheezed, doing my best to live normally again. Beast Boy was at my side, shaking my shoulder, coaching me on. In between hacks he spoke in:
"Easy! Easy, Noir! I don't know how you did it, but you did! Hang in there!"
But I had to tell him something. I coughed and I hacked and I reached blindly for his shoulder. I met his fingers, which grasped around mine. I shook it towards the lake. I coughed and wheezed and flinched and pointed towards the lake with a mad jab of a finger. For a second there, I swear I forgot I couldn't talk.
"What?! What is it, Noir?!"
I pointed and coughed.
"The lake?! I just pulled you out of there!"
I shook his arm. I pointed with emphasis. I coughed. I wheezed.
"….Your…Y-Your sword?? Your sword is in there still?"
That was good enough for me.
I nodded desperately, wheezed, turned over, and spit out more water. I pointed one last time, gritting my teeth and panting.
"I-I-I'll get it! Just you hold on!"
Beast Boy jumped to his feet, turned around, and ran for the shore. He dove into the water—turning into a sailfish in mid air.
SPLASH!!
With a perfect, streamline body, Beast Boy was gliding down through the currents in no time. His fish-eye glanced around for the unmistakable sign of Myrkstaff. He found it on the lake's floor, leaning precariously over the edge of a sandbar. He grasped it in his sword-like snout and was preparing to return to shore and his miraculously surviving teammate when something caught his gaze in the moon-filtered light shimmering down through the waters. Curious, the fish swam deeper towards an ever-expansive black object covering the bottom of the lake. When he got close enough, he felt a shiver emanate throughout his scales. He nearly dropped Myrkstaff.
At the bottom of the lake, unseen to the random onlooker at the surface, was a huge glass dome filled with air…and giant killer moths. Scurrying, razor sharp bugs of hideous proportion buzzed and hovered against each other within the transparent prison. Their barred mandibles drooled and their compound eyes banged against the contours of the glass. They were all wanting to get out. To unleash their wrath from countless days of captivity. Killer Moth had an angry swarm on his hand. Hidden and deadly, they were ready for his mere command to unleash upon anyone in proximity to the lake…the WestHaven Opera House included.
"!!!" Beast Boy swung around and swam to the surface with Myrkblade. On dry land, he ran over and knelt at my side.
I sat, shaking, rubbing my head, blinking my black eyes.
"Noir…it's insane! They're all down there!" Beast Boy panted, setting down the weapon. "You…you got stuck down there. And you saw them. You got stuck down there. You…" He sat down and hugged his knees, rocking back and forth again. Something swam over his face and chased away the usual vitality and humor he displayed. His eyes curved and looked straight down at the earth. "It all sm-smells the same. The water…the algae. I looked e-everywhere for them with the rescue workers, b-but we couldn't find them."
I coughed a last bit of moisture and looked exhaustedly—worriedly—at my green-skinned captain.
"The smell clung to the sk-skin…," Beast Boy rambled. "The African heat only increased the odor. I g-got sick from it. Like I was a-allergic to the rotten stuff. I was l-lying feverish in a tent wh-when the leader of the search came in and told me i-it was hopeless. Th-They filed it as a drowning in a b-boating accident. My Mommy and Daddy…after all th-they did to save me. The disease…the g-genetic experiment…everything. All ruined. And I had t-to live. I had to l-live while they left th-this world. Why? Do I deserve it? A little nincompoop such as myself?! I hate it when people get hurt. I realize how selfish I am to be alive….I'm sorry, Noir. I-I'm so sorry I let you into this. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm s-so s-s-s-sorry…"
Maybe he didn't feel my arm around his shoulder. Whatever the case, I let him lean into my chest and politefully looked towards the stars as the young man sobbed into his the palms of his hands. Every shaking of his mournful body vibrated into me and met a firm end. I massaged his forearm and took a deep breath. No tears came from my black eyes, but the soreness in my throat was paralyzing.
We stayed there, wet and shaking in the dry grass. The moon disappeared once or twice from cloud cover. The lake remained still.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
Tick…Tick…Tick…Tick…
Mr. Anderson sat at his desk the next morning, his hands held together.
Tick…Tick…Tick…Tick…
He stared over at the clockface on the desktop.
11:23 am.
Tick…Tick…Tick…Tick…
He picked up the clock and threw it across the room and against a wall.
SMASH!!!
"Was that really necessary?" Killer Moth grumbled from the shadows.
Mr. Anderson swiveled about and frowned at him. "Tonight….you freak. Tonight had better work or else—"
"Impatient, you old fart?" Killer Moth leaned forward, flexing his gloves. "Yesterday I was sweating bullets after my run-in with H.I.V.E.'s little pink brat. But I've been jilted before, so I've learned to accept the fate ahead of me…even if it means half of the share I originally had coming to me. A lot can change overnight. I mean, look at you. You seem just about ready to have a preemptive heart attack. And quite frankly, I wish you would."
"Forgive me for being anxious," Mr. Anderson retorted, shaking. "My whole life hinges on this night, and—"
"Looking for sympathy?" Killer Moth cocked his masked head to the side and grinned through synthetic, serrated mandibles. "I'll show you sympathy the night this gig is all over and I'm a much richer moth."
"Hehehehehe!" Kitten giggled from another seat between bubble gum pops. "You tell him, Daddy!"
Killer Moth groaned and pointed a claw at his daughter. "You. In gypsy attire. Now!"
"But—"
"Kitten! You wanted a part of the play. You got it. Don't complain. Go. Now! The show will be starting in a matter of hours."
"Yeah, when it's dark out!" the blonde brat retorted.
Killer Moth flew his fist through a table, sending wooden splinters everywhere.
"…..," Kitten froze.
Slowly, her father tilted his head up and glared at her.
"……….eep…..I think I'll go get my sandals on," she jumped up, scurried out the room, and slammed the door behind her.
Mr. Anderson winced and rubbed his temple.
"Awww…and a headache too?"
"Shut up…."
"Need some ice for that? Better yet, maybe I can take the whole thing off your bloody neck!"
"SHUT UP!!" Anderson growled. "Stop intimidating me until you can afford it, crook!"
That silenced the villain.
Anderson dabbed a handkerchief against his bloated forehead and huffed. "That blasted H.I.V.E. If only they knew the thing my people are working on could possibly benefit them too."
"What's the worry? I thought you said they probably wouldn't be after the ransom money!"
"It's not that…," Mr. Anderson mumbled. A pause. He looked up at Killer Moth. "I used to be a council chairman of H.I.V.E."
The villain recoiled, his fists clenching.
"I-I'm not associated with them anymore!" Anderson raised a finger. "But I was years ago. Ten years ago, in fact. I spent so many damn years of my life working for those bureaucratic terrorists. And to what extent? It's not the lackeys they toss over the mountain in the end, comrade. It's the governors. The clerics. The rulers. The bosses in charge. The smart ones are to be disposed of. But I….I got out safely—"
"So if H.I.V.E.'s children found you here…," Killer Moth started.
"…I wouldn't be here any longer," Anderson finished.
"All the reason for you not to show your face," Killer Moth smirked.
"All the reason for him not to show a freakin' pulse!!" an electronic voice rang out.
Both bad guys gasped and looked over as a robotic insect flew in on rapid wings through the window, beeped, and 'eyed' them both.
"Like it? It's a new model. Made it myself. Almost looks like your metal munching insects, Killer Muck!" A needle extended out from the top of the tiny, airborne robot. The needle expanded to form a thin, translucent screen upon which a crystal video screen blipped into existence, showing Gizmo's face. "Hidey Ho, neighbors! So kind of you to welcome us in. I hope fate was kind to you as you waited for us to drop in!"
"Make it short…," Killer Moth growled.
"Temper Temper, splotch face!" Gizmo's face spat. "Just gonna list a few of the rules. 1) H.I.V.E. is here, whether you like it or not. 2) You shall not in any way mess with our collection of desired spoils. 3) As long as 1 and 2 are adhered to, you can grab as much ransom money and goods as your greedy hands can get a hand on. But be warned, bump into us during our collective 'gig' and we'll bump you back all the way to your mother's womb! That's got to make her turn in the grave. HA!"
Mr. Anderson pounded his fist into the desk and stood up. "Why can't you be reasonable? We selected this scene first."
"Sit down, gramps!" Gizmo cackled on the screen. "Wouldn't want to Jinx you, wouldn't we? We all know that's most unpleasant."
Killer Moth looked away.
"That's what I thought. Well, hope to see you all tonight. I hear there's a great show being prepared! Some medieval love epic called Il Trovatore. Heard the reviews on that, by chance? I'd really like to know where I can pick up a program—"
SMASH!!! Killer Moth's hands came together around the robotic creature, crushing it into sizzling motors.
"Never thought I'd do that…," he mumbled.
Mr. Anderson sat down. He took a breath. "Killer Moth….unless you take me with you and your sister once you flee this scene with your money…I'll be stuck here and I'll be a dead man."
"If you come with me, you'll be a dead man as well," Killer Moth said.
"At least I know you reasonably well," Mr. Anderson glanced at him upon the ironic statement with emphasis.
Killer Moth leaned back.
Anderson looked out the window. He sighed. "The show must go on…"
-T-T-T-T-T-
"All three of them?"
"I wouldn't doubt it, Cy. Where there's a Jinx, there's Mammoth and Gizmo sure to follow. I doubt she alone could make the theft for H.I.V.E."
"And Noir's positive they're only after a stone?"
"That's what she said. A power source to some deadly laser or something. Most cliché piece of crap I've ever heard."
"It's still worth our attention. And you also know where Killer Moth's insects are?"
"Yes already! In the lake! This big dome thing. I doubt Killer Moth has access to it and stuff. He's probably been starving all the creatures so that they can attack anything they see. It would be an unfortunate thing indeed to be a hostage tonight when he's got that much punishment ready to be unleashed."
"Roger that. I suppose it's crunch time then. You'll get your help, I promise."
"Just what's been holding you up, Cy? And how come none of the other Titans have been answering my calls?"
"A little situation over here. I thought I told you that."
"What kind?"
"Nothing important. You'll get your help, okay? Be sure of that."
"All right, All right. Who am I to complain? It's not my life on the line here."
"B.B….."
"Yeah, yeah. I'll knock it off. Say, while you're on the way, could you bring some hot pockets? We're starving over here—"
-blip-
Beast Boy blinked. "Ok….kay…."
I snickered, standing with a lean against the bedpost. Sandy filled me another cup of cappuccino, which I gladly sipped. I was wearing a cloak, once again in possession of my Titan shades. As much as I hated to say it, Mr. Allenthorpe Jr. had to be permanently laid to rest.
"For the most part…it's just us in on this," Beast Boy said.
"They don't sound very supportive," Sandy remarked, setting down the coffee pot and leaning against a wardrobe. "Don't you think?"
"Who am I to question them? I'm just the green guy," Beast Boy sighed, shook his head, and gestured. "We've got to do something. I can even hear them setting up the stage through the floorboards and such."
"Yes…this building's old," Sandy nodded, adjusting her glasses. "Any little thing travels widely with sound and vibration. I'm surprised you haven't heard your enemies by now."
"When a villain hides, a villain hides," Beast Boy moaned. "And what villains they are. Four against Two, Noir."
I looked at Beast Boy and silently nodded.
"Five against two if you count that blonde thing Killer Moth gave birth two."
"And what of the insects?" Sandy asked.
Beast Boy blinked. "Uhhh….six thousand to two? Ugh…what's it matter?! This is hopeless!"
I glanced at Beast Boy. I glanced at Sandy.
"You don't sound that convincing a captain," Sandy folded her arms and smirked.
Beast Boy stuck his tongue out. "You don't sound that sweet of a smart alek."
"Please forgive me," Sandy droned. "My friends and clients are only going to be moth meat in five hours. What's not to be sarcastic about?"
Beast Boy closed an eye and twitched in the other. "Ow. Did you have loving parents?"
"Yup…and that explains it," Sandy marched over towards the door, smirking.
"Heheheh…you know, I may grow to like you," Beast Boy pointed.
"Yes, that's what I'm afraid of," Sandy replied. "Seems like you grow to like every woman you try to save."
"And what's wrong with that?"
"Hehehehe…nothing." A pause. Sandy opened the door and turned to look at us. "You know…you two are all that stand between these people and destruction. If this sting is to go down successfully, you two should start off on the right path by being thankful for one another's existence."
We both stared at her….silent.
She shrugged. "Well that's my own two cents. I don't get paid anything to volunteer. Just to risk my life by helping Ms. Cartwright tonight. Good luck."
She closed the door and was gone.
Beast Boy looked at me.
I looked at him.
Eventually, the green elf folded his hands behind his back and played with some dust on the wooden floorboards with his boot.
"You know….yesterday…I got pretty pissed off at you. I said some mean things. And…um…didn't make you feel good as a noobie. I-I'm sorry for that."
I sighed, smiled, and pointed at my chest with a free hand.
"No….you had every right to be angry. Lord knows I would have been in your place."
I put my mug down, gestured, pointed to myself, and gestured some more.
Blindly, Beast Boy blinked at me. He cleared his throat. "I have no idea what you just 'said'. But if it's anything along the lines of 'I'm sorry, I'm a big buffoon for constantly getting myself nearly killed under your command', then you're forgiven."
I sniffed forth a chuckle.
Beast Boy giggled.
We exhaled at the same time.
Silence.
"You know….I finally got to see your eyes last night," Beast Boy pointed.
I nodded.
"And…um…they were cool, ya know?" he said.
I looked at him from behind my shades.
"Yeah, just that. Cool. Nothing to be ashamed of."
I rolled my eyes underneath the shades and grinned.
Beast Boy looked down. "It's so easy….to get ashamed of things." A pause. "I got kinda….emotional last night. I'm not proud of it. I guess that's why I joke around so much. I don't want people knowing that….I feel so helpless. About….about what happened to my parents, ya know?"
I nodded slowly.
"I mean…as silly as we can be, we all have secrets, right? It's part of the mystery of being a Teen Titan and all that jazz. You should know—er, not that you're silly and stuff. But that you're mysterious…and…um….Noir….you get the picture?"
I chuckled and nodded.
"Yeah….."
A pause.
"You know what I'm thinking, Noir?"
"????" I looked up at him.
"I say we take all our frustrations out on Killer Moth and H.I.D.E…..AND KICK THEIR SORRY BUTTS BACK TO THE BRIG!!"
I grinned wide and lifted a hand.
He jumped up and high-fived it. "Yeah! Down low!" He held a hand out.
I made to slap it, but he dodged his wrist.
"Too slow! Ah ha ha ha!"
I made like to put him in a headlock but instead tossed off my cloak and picked up my Myrkstaff and sheathe.
Beast Boy tucked away his communicator and slipped on his boots.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
Noon passed by.
Outside the front of the WestHaven Opera House, workers cleaned the giant, electric letters and lightbulbs to a glistening shine. Field workers painted lines in the plain of grass for parking spaces. Valets huddled together under the direction of a leader, briefing them on the car arrangements for that evening.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
Behind the stage, markers were set in the floor for character positions. Lighting props were tweaked one last time.
An inspector performed an intense visit, eyeing each huge piece of scenery and giving an 'okay' symbol above the noise of multiple stagehands carrying prop anvils and horse troughs and weaponry back and forth.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
In the crowded, heated hallways full of extras and actors with costumes, Ms. Cartwright marched mightily down a path amidst the chaos, shouting orders and clapping her hands.
"Get shoes for Leonora! I want all the gypsies lined up and ready for last minute rehearsals two hours before the curtain rises! Sandy, contact the casting director and tell her to have extra scrypts available for the final review."
"Yes'm."
"HEY! Where're my lines?!" A bratty, blonde Kitten marched up.
"Up the river, which is where you'll be going if you don't slip into gypsy garb and shut up for the rest of the night!" Ms. Cartwright shoved the girl into the busy, changing extras. "Come on, people! No more questions asked! Get in your roles! Move it! Move it! Move it! Sandy?"
"Yes'm?"
"I love this job."
"Yes'm."
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
The lobby of the WestHaven Opera House was covered with tables in white cloth. Chefs and waiters and waitresses delicately placed utensils and glasses and Champaign bottles in key places for both aesthetics and easy access. A small band formed in a corner and removed their instruments from leather cases. A slideshow was prepared, displaying images of Medieval Spain on various white sheets surrounding the lobby.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
An orchestra gathered in the pit, tuning their various instruments. Drums and harps and violins and cellos and an eclectic group of other devices formed a chaotic ambiance of sound as the conductor gave the musical sheets a final one through and prepared for his finest performance yet.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
Deep within the earth, in a hidden laboratory room surrounded by mud and wooden boards, Killer Moth meditated on sheets of chemical formulas and the basic outline of his plan. He eyed a digital clock besides a smashed table from the previous day and took a deep breath. He flexed his glove, fastened his helmet, and stretched his synthetic wings.
Time wouldn't pass fast enough.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
Mr. Anderson stood restlessly in his office, staring out at an orange sky.
He took a deep breath and drank from a glass of wine.
Over in the corner, a smashed clock rested still forever.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
On the rooftop, Gizmo snickered and fiddled with a contraption. The amplifier sphere locked into place in a cannon of sorts nestled behind the huge letters of the building's front. The cannon twirled around at the slightest touch of Gizmo's finger to a remote control device.
Mammoth took a large bite out of a pre-battle sub and flexed his muscles. He chuckled at Gizmo in his most testosterone manner before scarfing down another chunk for energy.
Jinx sat on the edge, dangling her legs over a string of light bulbs.
She watched blankly at the sun set behind the horizon. Some worker cried out to another and there was a huge CHUNK! sound as the circuit breaker was activated. The electric signs chugged to life and the string of lightbulbs flashed brilliantly about the witch's casual, petite figure. She didn't flinch. Rather, she held the locket in her hand, flipping it open and gazing in under the brilliant glow of yellow surrounding her pink figure.
"…."
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
I landed in a squat onto the catwalk. I stood up slowly, straight. My hair and bandanna danced from the fan of a nearby light. I looked behind me as a green pterodactyl landed firmly on a railing and morphed into a balancing Beast Boy who gave me a thumb's up. I gestured back at him, unsheathed Myrkstaff, and paced down the length of the catwalk. Directly beneath my softly clanking feet, an open, lit cavity that was the theatre seating stretched with an enormous yawn beneath us.
Ready for the elite.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
Outside the WestHaven Opera House and beyond, a country road stretched to the horizon.
As the night grew dark, spots of yellow headlights swam their way over hills and gradually towards the manor.
The night of the Big Show.