Madame Science Chap 4 (Rough)

This is about the point when I really started getting into Christine's voice. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 4: In Which Crime is Committed by “Accident”

I do end up catching a couple hours of sleep when I get back to my apartment. Momento and the others are still searching when I come in and I can’t quite kick up the motivation to keep working on possible bionanite designs. Instead, I grab a glass of water, strip off my sweater, and climb directly into bed. Hey, I’m already wearing my pajamas.

I wake up to a pair of sparkling neon eyes staring right into mine.  I rub a hand over my face and sit up. I’ve overslept.  “How did you even get up here?”

Momento chirps at me and cocks his head. There’s a responding chirp and click from the floor. I look over the side of the bed to see that my precious little minions are standing on top of each other, making a robot ladder tall enough to get Momento onto the bed. The lion—mane an astonishing array of rainbow colors—gets too excited when he sees me looking. He jumps in place, unintentionally overbalancing the tower. The four making the ladder tumble down and splay across the floor. The bunny, unicorn, cat and lion wiggle pathetically, crying for help. It’s not a pleasant sound this early in the morning.

I pick Momento up before he can jump off the bed to his siblings. “I’ll admit it, I’m impressed. I didn’t think you guys had enough processing power to solve problems.”

Momento cocks his head to the other side, somehow conveying hurt that I’d think so little of them. I have to be projecting, right? Momento and his brethren don’t have the processing power to form anything close to emotions. Right. These guys had access to WiFi and not much else. I really need to make more friends. Human friends.

“You done running the search?” I ask. I set him on the floor and get the others on their feet before heading to the kitchen. I need coffee. “What’d you find?”

The five of them start squeaking and barking at once, frantically clicking to keep up with me. My phone starts pinging with file drops, one after another. I groan as I get the coffee out of the freezer. How much did they dig up? More importantly, how much was actually going to be relevant?

I set the coffee to brew and check my phone. There are eight reports waiting for me, the oldest going back two years and the newest going back— wait, what?

“Monday?” I ask my minions. They sit down in unison and flash their little headlight eyes. I look at the folder sitting on my counter. It’s dated a week ago, not two days ago. Mr. Government Man had made it seem like the older one was the only incident. I take a seat on one of my barstools. “Weird.”

What’s weirder is that of the eight reports they found six are matches. That makes a total of seven instances of this type of attack occurring in the past eight months. 

I sit back on my stool and cross my arms. My coffee’s been done for a while, but I don’t get up to pour myself a cup. Why would the DOD hide other cases like this one from me?

I look back at the last case I opened, the one reported from this past Monday. The damage pattern is the same, right down to the liquefaction and then freezing of the surrounding ground. The trouble is that this attack didn’t happen in the country. It happened in the middle of New York City. 

Did the DOD not know about this one? No, they had to have known.The papers may have reported this as a sinkhole, but anyone with eyes can see from the pictures that this is something else. What’s worse is that this isn’t the only attack to have taken place in a town or city. Four of the six Momento found happened in cities. Two were in fields like the one the DOD sent to me.

What’s even stranger? The incident the DOD assigned to me for analysis doesn’t show up in the news. At all. Why would they hand over the one case not in the public eye? Why wouldn’t they tell me about the other six cases?

The only reason—the only reason— I’m not taking this directly to the Hero Force is because there are no reported casualties. This technology is terrifying and, in the wrong hands...well. If I was a real hero, I’d be going to the Hero Force with just my suspicions. But the DOD is aware of the situation and are asking for my thoughts. Idon’t want to throw away everything I’ve been working for by breaking my agreement with them.

Like Scott said, I need to not break the law. I need to at least try to work with the system before taking things into my own hands. 

But why aren’t these incidents in the incident report? What’s the point of these attacks? Are these all tests? Or is there something significant about where they take place?

“I need more information,” I say out loud. I shake my head, trying to get rid of the thinking fugue. I’m not going to get any answers sitting in my kitchen and asking questions. There’s a chance that the DOD just didn’t tell me about the other cases because they thought one would be enough. 

I hop around Momento and the minions to get a cup of coffee. I inhale half the cup, praying it works quickly, and give Ms. Barry a call.

“Ms. Green,” Ms. Barry answers on the third ring. There’s someone shouting obscenities behind her. “I’m in a meeting. Unless you are in jail, I’m going to have to call you back.”

I raise my eyebrows when whoever’s screaming claims to have done something very inventive with Ms. Barry’s mother the night before. I swear I can hear fire crackling in the background. “Why is your life so much more exciting than mine?”

Ms. Barry sighs. “Ms. Green.”

“I’m not in jail,” I say. Why she even thinks that’s a possibility, I don’t know. I’m extraordinarily well-behaved. “I need you to ask Mr. Government Man a question for me.”

“About the case?”

“Yeah,” I say. I hesitate as I hear splintering wood. I know what smashing a chair sounds like and that was definitely a chair smashing. “Is everything okay over there?”

“The defense is submitting evidence,” Ms. Barry says blandly.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what you do.”

Ms. Barry covers the phone and barks something at someone else. It sounds an awful like take care of him. When she focuses back on me, her words are clipped. “I’m texting you Agent Ronalds’ number. So long as you keep your conversation brief, pertaining only to the case, and report to me later, I see no problem with you asking him directly. I might be busy for quite some time.”

There’s a squelch and gurgle behind her. I try to stop my brain from imagining just what you’d have to do to someone to make that sound. “Are you sure you’re—“

Ms. Barry hangs up on me. Rude.

I decide to actually get ready for my day before even looking at the number Ms. Barry sent me. Somehow the idea of talking to Mr. Government Man in my pajamas makes my skin crawl. And, yeah, I’m getting dressed at, like, 1pm. Working from home is like the furthest thing from functional adulthood there is.

Then, of course, I have to do some laundry because I’ve got no clean clothes for my stay-at-home date with Scott tonight. I also make a quick sandwich because it’s bad to just have coffee, right? 

It’s 4:45pm before I give in and call the number Ms. Barry sent me. While it’d be funny to see how Mr. Government Man would react to an after hours call, I’m not out to make him mad today.

“Agent Ronalds speaking—“

“Oh my god, how do I keep forgetting your name?” I blurt out. 

There’s a foreboding silence on the other end. “Ms. Green. How did you get this number?”

Oops. So much for not making him mad. “What, am I not supposed to call you or something?”

Papers rustle. “There is a separate number for you to call should you need to contact us. This is my private line.”

“Why does Ms. Barry have your private line?” I wonder out loud. Then I grimace. “Never mind, don’t tell me. I’m better off not knowing.”

The guy doesn’t even have the decency to sound flustered. “The purpose of your call…?”

I scoop Momento up off the floor and carry him to the couch to sit with me. I cleaned the living room and I admire how nice my coffee table looks without clutter. “I’m reviewing the case you sent me and I had a couple questions.”

All movement on the other end stops. “Of course.”  Agent Ronalds’ voice is carefully devoid of any inflection. “Ms. Barry informed me you wouldn’t be done with the analysis until next week at the earliest.”

“I’m not done.” I pet Momento’s little head, pushing his awful fur so it looks like he’s got a little mohawk. So cute. “Whatever caused the crater is unlike anything I’ve seen before.” True. “It’ll take some time to parse individual components.” Also true. “I’m not sure I’m suited for the job.” Not true. I’m not sure if I’m going to tell them about the bionanites quite yet, but I’m definitely suited for this job.

“We just ask you perform to the best of your abilities.” There’s a trace of irritation in his voice that I’m sure he thinks he’s hiding from me. Irritation that I’m asking questions? Or irritation that I don’t have results?  “Can you elaborate on what you’ve discovered thus far?”

I weigh my options. It’s better to get more information before tipping my hand. “I mean, it’s not a lot. I might need more than a week to be honest.” Honest. HA. “I know there’s some sort of acidic factor at work, judging from the way the bedrock melted, but I need samples to be sure. Is there any way I can see what your agent collected from the scene?”

Mr. Government Man is quiet for a long moment. “I’ll have to look into that. You’re not allowed to leave Los Angeles and I’m not sure I can clear the transport of the samples to you.”

That is suspicious. Why wouldn’t they be able to send me rock samples? There’s nothing about the debris being radioactive. “I can’t exactly give you a very thorough analysis without them.”

“As I said,” Mr. Government Man says, “we just ask you perform to the best of your abilities.”

“I hope you’re not expecting a miracle off of pictures,” I say. I frown. I’m going to have to give him a bit more. “Acid is just a guess.” An incorrect one. “It could be anything from a technical component to a biological component that I haven’t encountered before.” Bait him with the truth. “If you really want answers, I need those samples and a lab to test them in.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Mr. Government Man says. Now he’s definitely irritated. He’s not putting any effort into sounding believable. If I see a sample from him, I’ll eat my hat. “I appreciate your sudden and unexpected zeal to serve your country.”

I don’t appreciate his sarcasm. “Yeah, you really inspired me. In fact, I’m so inspired, I’m going to throw some extra hours into this case. Just for you. I know it’s overtime, but it’s for the country.”

“Great.” He is definitely gritting his teeth. “Anything else, Ms. Green?”

“Just one more question,” I say sweetly. I tilt Momento’s head up so I can admire his eyes. “Something this sophisticated would take years to develop. Is it possible this isn’t the first time this type of attack has happened?”

“No.”

My lips thin. I inject concern into my voice. “Are you sure? Maybe you guys just didn’t catch it. It might have been a smaller scale—“

“We would have found it. This is the only incident.”

I pull the phone away from my ear to look at incredulously. That was way too fast. I’d entertained the idea that Ronalds didn’t know about the other attacks, but not anymore. He’s hiding the other incidents from me, I’m sure of it. But why?

There’s something not right here. More than one thing, actually, but who’s counting?

I bring the phone back to my ear and try to pretend like I believe him. “If you say so. I’d look into it if I were you. I can’t imagine the kind of monster that could make this in one go.”

“That’s why we brought you into the case,” he says. His words are clipped. “All we need from you, Ms. Green, is an option. Reverse engineer something you believe could have done this. If another incident of this nature comes to my attention, I will let you know.”

Yeah, right. And what’s this about reverse engineering? That’s not part of an analysis and way outside of our agreement. I decide not to call him on it quite yet. “Cool. The more information I have, the better analysis I can give you.”

“We’ll keep that in mind.”

I hang up before him and toss my phone onto the other side of the couch. I’m done with calls for the day. I hold Momento up at eye level, frowning. “That wasn’t very helpful, was it?”

Momento chirps and wiggles his little legs in the air.

The Super fight that’s making me late to my stay-at-home date with Scott isn’t close enough for me to see. I can hear and feel the explosions as some idiot absolutely runs havoc through the sewers, but that’s it. I exhale noisily. This is the fourth fight this week and it’s only Wednesday. What the heck is happening in LA?

I ignore the pile of Indian food on the seat next to me even though my stomach’s about to claw its way out and take matters into its own hands. Scott sent a text saying he’d be free by 7 and, as cheesy as it is, eating with him makes the food taste better.

I’m only a half hour late by the time I get to Scott’s and find parking. The food isn’t even that cold. The elevator’s already on the fourth floor, so I take the stairs, promising myself an extra samosa for the effort.

I juggle the sack of Indian food and wrangle the door open. “It’s me! I brought sustenance.” I kick aside Scott’s superhero boots so I can take off my flats. He must have just got in.

“Hi, babe.” Scott sounds distracted.

I hear the shower running in the master bedroom but Scott’s sitting on the couch in a towel, hair dry, when I come in. The TV is on the local news, Miranda Eve reporting on the Super fight happening in the sewers.

“—lost sight of the battle. However, reports have come in that Moth Lady and Everest were seen in hot pursuit—“

Scott is glued to the TV, elbows on his knees. He’s only in a towel, clearly about to get in the shower, soot and grime caked around his neck where the edge of his costume is.  He doesn’t acknowledge me as I drop the food on the kitchen table and come to stand behind him.

I watch the back of his head in concern. I’m not supposed to know it, but Moth Lady and Everest are Scott’s friends and, when he needs one, his team. They followed him all the way out to LA even though, at the time, LA hardly needed more C-class heroes. I can’t imagine what he feels knowing they’re in an active Super fight without him.

“—Dreadwatt, typically a Houston based villain, is known for the 2015 theft of six Cullen sculptures. The Hero Force has not yet disclosed the reason for his presence in LA—“

I touch his shoulder. “You okay?”

Scott jumps like I surprised him. “Christine!” He scrambles for the remote and turns off the TV. “I’m sorry, I meant to be in the shower already—“

“I was running late too.” I come around the couch so I can look at him properly. To my disappointment, he doesn’t look any more rested than he did last night. I glance back at the TV, remembering the look on his face while he watched. “Moth Lady and Everest can handle Dreadwatt. He’s not so tough.” I don’t mention that they’re probably at a disadvantage if they’re the ones fighting in the sewers. Moth Lady’s sleep dust can’t be shot out in humid environments and Everest, a hero with the ability to walk on any surface, is better at fighting in wider spaces. Still, they’re both decent hand-to-hand fighters when they need to be and I know Dreadwatt isn’t. “They’ll catch him.”

“Yeah,” Scott says. He stands, adjusting the towel around his waist, and tries to sound nonchalant. “Yeah, I know, they’re Hero Force certified. I’m not worried.”

He’s pretending like I don’t know who they are. I nod slowly. The look on his face is telling me that he can’t handle my pushing right now. “Go take a shower. I’ll have the food set up by the time you get out.”

Scott smiles. “Thanks, babe. I’d kiss you but I’m pretty sure you don’t want that right now.” He still seems down to me, but the worry is gone. Scott can be awful good at hiding things when he wants to.

Trust me, I want to say. Let me help you.

Helping my boyfriend now would be breaking the law.

“I don’t know,” I say, stepping into his space. I wrinkle my nose when the smell hits me. Scott wasn’t in a sewer today, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw Light fighting someone in a composting facility. I bear with it so I can poke the edge of his towel and grin. “You could probably convince me.”

“I’ll convince you after my shower,” he says. He steps around me and winks. “I’ll be fast.”

“I hear you’re good at that,” I tease. “What was it? Fastest Man of the Year?”

He rolls his eyes at the reminder. He’d been nominated for Most Handsome Hero of the year, but didn’t make it into the top 50. As consolation, they’d given him Fastest. “Not much competition for that one.” Then he blurs and the bathroom door shuts between one second and the next.

It’s been nearly a year since we started dating, but I’m only barely used to how freely he uses his power. Shaking my head, I go about preheating the oven. As fast he is, I won’t use a microwave for food that cost me more than I think reasonable for takeout.

I’m crisping the samosas (minus one or two) on the stovetop when Scott comes back out in sweats. It’s a little irritating that he didn’t bother putting on a nice shirt considering this is supposed to be a date, but I shrug it off. We’ve been dating long enough that I can understand how he’d want to relax at home after wearing the Super suit all day, especially considering the week this is shaping up to be.

Scott’s in a better mood after his shower. He helps me plate the food and suggests we eat on the couch since clearing the table might take a little too long. He, apparently, is starving.

“Oh, I can wait,” I say. I pat my stomach. “Some of the samosas didn’t quite make it from the bag to the pan.”

Scott pretends to be shocked. “Thief!”

My smile curls. I’ve heard my smile can be as off-putting as my laugh—too sinister, too smug—but Scott’s never been bothered by it. In fact, I can see an answering smile tucked into the corners of his mouth. “Alleged thief.”

“I’ll cut you a deal,” Scott says, following me to the couch. He sets our plates on top of a few lesson plans and then goes back to the kitchen for a bottle of wine. “You give me some of your rice and I won’t turn state’s evidence.”

“Oooh, baby,” I croon, “talk dirty to me.” I drape myself on the couch and press a wrist to my forehead dramatically. “You got any more deals for me?”

“Oh,” Scott says, “I haven’t even gotten started.” The cork pops and he pours each of us a modest glass. “I’ve got a pretty big deal if you know what I—“

He’s interrupted as someone pounds on the front door.

I jump up at the banging, activating the taser in my phone. In my experience, nothing good comes from someone banging at the door. Though I doubt Scott’s got any reason to be worried about the police like I was. “You expecting someone, Scott?”

He’s already gone, papers flapping from the wind made by his speed. I hear him opening the door but can’t see into the hallway from where I’m at. He asks, “What happened?”

I know who it is from the tone of his voice alone. When I was Madame Science, Scott rarely came after me with a team. The few times he did, it was because he was already out with them. He used the exact same tone with them that he’s using now.

Moth Lady and Everest are done chasing Dreadwatt.

“He’s a little shaken up,” a woman says. There’s pain in her voice. “But HQ is really busy and you’re right next—“

“It’s fine. Wait here.”

I blink when Scott is suddenly in front of me again, face drawn and tight. I look over his shoulder without meaning to and have to focus back on him quickly. I’m not supposed to be here when they’re here. I try to keep my voice as light as possible. “Time to go?”

“I’m sorry,” he says. He’s by my side in a flash, hand gentle on my cheek. “I promise I’ll make this up to you. Saturday night?”

I nod and can’t resist a peek back towards the hallway. Moth Lady and Everest aren’t idiots. They’re staying out of sight. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah.” Scott’s expression is bouncing between guilt and worry. He doesn’t want to rush me, but can already see him switching back into hero mode. Her comes Light to save the day. “I’m gonna take you to the door with your eyes covered, okay?”

This absolutely sucks. Still, it’s not like it’s an avoidable situation. If he’s shoving me out the door this fast, something’s wrong. I hold out my arms. “You gonna carry me out?”

Scott picks me up, one arm under my knees, the other behind my back. His breath is hot against my ear. “Put your hands over your eyes.”

I obey. It kind of feels like he’s throwing me out and I wish I didn’t ask him to pick me up. I’d thought it’d be kind of funny, but it’s not. “Where you gonna take me Saturday?” We’re at the door. I can hear his friends breathing, harsh and panting. I really hope they’re not actually hurt. I haven’t heard Everest speak which isn’t a good sign. I swallow hard. “You know what? Why don’t you just text me.”

Scott sets me down in the hallway, turning me so I’m facing away from the door. He presses a kiss behind my ear. “I will. Sorry. I love you.”

“Love you too,” I say without turning around. “Hope everyone’s okay.” 

“Me too,” he says. I hear his apartment door shut behind me.

I run a hand through my hair. I think I’ll leave him alone until Saturday. It sounds like he needs some space to focus on whatever’s going on.

My stomach grumbles on the elevator ride down. I only got to eat two samosa. Walnuts.