🚀 go-pugleaf

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                         DEAD AT @ 21 DAYS
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                          SUPER SEVEN #13
                        DEAD AT 21 DAYS #7
         Copyright 1994, Greg Fishbone, all rights reserved.

[Excerpted from the Diary of Number Six:]

DAY TEN:  I have a new life now, and a new name -- they call me
Laurel Hill, Sunbeam of the Super Seven.  It's all part of Nobody
Important's plan, and so far it's going very well.  The others all
accept me as Laurel, and if I mess up on anything, I can blame it
on the amnesia they think I have.  It feels strange to be in this
place, almost as if my entire life before now has been nothing but
a dream.  I am very glad that Nobody Important has finally sent me
on a mission and I will do everything possible not to let him
down.

As Laurel, I live in a college dormitory with the other members of
the Super Seven: Tracy, Stacy, Kyle, Nick, Mark, and Tom.  Tracy
and Stacy are twins, but it's easy to tell them apart once you get
to know them.  As heroes, they call themselves the Tesla Girls,
Anode and Cathode.  I think Tracy is Anode and Stacy is Cathode,
but it could be the other way around...  Tracy is my roommate --
last night we talked for hours about all kinds of stuff.  She and
Stacy are so close that they tend to talk at the same time and
finish each other's sentences!  When I see them together, it makes
me think of my own sisters and how much I miss them.  I miss the
boss as well, and the motel, and the pizza place down in the
basement, but most of all I miss the other Underlings.  When I was
watching television with the Super Seven last night, I could have
sworn that one of the reporters at Spoonman's press conference was
really Number One wearing a funny hat -- but I know that's
impossible.  With all the work that they have to do on the boss'
plans, none of my sisters would ever have time to get a second job
as a reporter.

The fourth member of the team (as I'm going through them now and
including myself) is Kyle, who fights under the name of The Human
Microwave.  Kyle is an artist, and he's really really good at it!
He has his pictures hanging all over the walls in his room, and he
painted a huge mural out in the hallway -- a red-haired girl
sword-fighting with an aardvark.  I don't quite understand what it
is supposed to mean, but I like the way it looks!  This morning,
Kyle gave me a bunch of his artwork to hang in the room that Tracy
and I are sleeping in (it's a little cramped, but I've gotten used
to living with three sisters, the boss, and all of the boss'
computer equipment in a little motel room, so to me it's really
not all that bad).  A few of Kyle's art pieces even survived the
fire -- but I'm getting ahead of myself.  I think Kyle and Stacy
are dating, though I'm not sure.  I'm going to have to ask Tracy
about that when I have a chance.

Kyle's roommate is Nick, who is the leader of the Super Seven,
sort of.  He seems to make a lot of the decisions, and the others
tend to do what he says most of the time, unless they really don't
want to, but I don't think Nick feels very confident about his
leadership abilities.  Nick calls himself Taximan, because he is
the group's main source of transportation.  I think he should
change his name to something cooler, though, like Radiowave or
Lightspeed or just about *anything* other than Taximan.  Nick has
been avoiding me for some reason-- I think it's because he and
Laurel didn't like each other very much when she was alive.

The sixth member of the team is Mark, who fights as Magnoboy
(which just might be a worse name than Taximan.  Hmmm, come to
think of it, Mr. Plasma and The Human Microwave aren't very good
hero names either.  I must have lucked out to get something cool
like Sunbeam).  He's a really nice guy, but you wouldn't want him
in the room while you're trying to watch television because he
tends to mess up the reception just by being there.  We were
watching cartoons this morning in the secret base (my room) when
Mark came in and turned "Batman and Robin" into static and snow.

"Guess what?  I have a new power!" he announced.

"Can it wait?" asked Tom.  "This is a 'Harley Quinn' episode!"

"Tom, you have a digital watch on, right?"

"Yeah." Tom consulted his watch  "It's quarter-past--  Whaaa!"
The watch fizzled and sparked on Tom's wrist, and then began to
smoke.

"Pretty neat, huh?" asked Mark.  "Electromagnetic pulse.  I think
it might come in handy if we--  Tom?  Uh, you're okay, right?"

"I will be," he said angrily, turning his body into plasma energy
and stepping menacingly toward Mark.  "That watch was a present
from Laurel!"

"It's okay," I said, "I'll get you a new one."  But by that time
Tom was getting ready to attack Mark and I don't think any amount
of reasoning could have stopped him.  Even Nick seemed at a loss
about what to do.  Fortunately, Tom was distracted by the
television, which chose that exact moment to explode and burst
into flames, along with the stereo, fridge, alarm clock, and
computer.

Nick teleported us out of there, and we watched the fire
department show up in these big shinny red trucks with long
ladders and really loud sirens.  The firemen wore these really
neat plastic hats and long rubber coats, and they carried axes and
stuff -- it was so exciting!  The bad part is that the Super Seven
doesn't have a secret base anymore, but at least I don't have to
worry about my door being sealed shut now that it's been chopped
into splinters by the nice firemen.  The maintenance people say
they should have a new door installed by tonight, but Tracy says
not to hold my breath, which I wasn't planning to do in the first
place.  Anyway, that's Mark -- he's promised not to use that
particular power again unless it's really needed.

And then there's Tom.  As you can see, he's rather emotional and
very defensive, especially when it comes to me.  Tracy told me
last night that he and Laurel had a strange kind of relationship
that I don't fully understand.  I guess they loved each other, but
both of them were too stubborn to be the first to admit it, so
most of the time they acted like they hated each other instead.
Or something like that.  It doesn't really make much sense to me,
but since I only have ten days of life-experience to draw on, a
lot of things don't make much sense to me -- like the popularity
of Geraldo Rivera, or Rush Limbaugh.  Tom acts very strange when
he's around me, like there's something important he wants to tell
me that he can't quite get out.  Tracy says I should give him
time, but I only have eleven days left to live, and the mission
will probably be over before then, if all goes according to the
Plan.  Then again, maybe it's not all that important after all.

These people have taken me in, and they've been so nice to me that
I feel really bad about having to help destroy them.  But what
else can I do?  That's Nobody Important's plan, and carrying it
out is the whole purpose of my existence, the very reason I was
brought to life in the first place.  Today I wrote out my
preliminary report on the Super Seven and their powers and placed
it on the window ledge, where it was picked up by a creature that
looked and acted exactly like a common squirrel -- except that I
(having read and memorized the plan) know that it was really a
specially-trained carrier pigeon, wearing a cleverly designed
squirrel costume.  I think it probably would have been easier just
to train a squirrel, but that's why I'm just an underling and
Nobody Important is the boss.

This afternoon, the twins are taking me shopping for new clothes
and stuff, and then tonight we're all going to go out to fight
crime.  I've never fought crime before.  Nobody Important once
told me that there are three kinds of people in the world;
superheroes, supervillains, and everybody else.  From what I've
read, it's not very often that a supervillain like myself gets a
chance to play hero, so I am really looking forward to tonight.

The others have been giving me tips on how I should use my powers,
but it seems that none of them knows exactly what I can do.  I
learned from Tracy that Laurel only had her powers for five days
before she was killed in battle against a giant oatmeal creature,
so I've already been living with these powers for twice as long as
the *real* Sunbeam!  A few of the things I've learned to do with
the power are abilities that the real Laurel never even knew she
had!  I plan to be very careful how I use the powers tonight -- so
far the other members of the team do not suspect that I am not
what I claim to be, and I don't want to give them any reason at
all to be suspicious.

I have to go now.  Tracy is calling me to go shopping, and I don't
want her or any of the others to find this journal.  The boss
would probably be upset with me if he knew that I was still
writing it, but I only have twenty-one days to live and I don't
want to forget any of them, and writing my thoughts down every day
has become something of a habit.  It's like talking to an old
friend.  So, old friend, I'll hide you away in a safe place and
talk to you again tomorrow.

                            * * *

   "Hurry it up in there!" hissed Bull.  He was standing outside
the Dillweed Center Jewelry Shop, acting as lookout while his two
partners on the inside worked the smash and grab.  With Spoonman
out of the country for the weekend, there was much less chance that they
would get caught, but Bull still did not think they
should press their luck.  "Come *on*!" he said, a little louder
this time.  "You don't have to try the stuff on, guys!"
   Bull thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye,
some kind of sparkling light.  He started down the street to
investigate, but then thought better of it -- after all, what harm
could a sparkling light do to him?
   Two hands reached around from behind , clamping tightly over
Bull's eyes.  "Guess who?" asked a female voice.
   "Um...  Lisa-Marie Presley-Jackson?"
   "Wrong!"  There was a bright flash from the girl's hands,
directly into Bull's eyes, and he was temporarily blinded.  "The
name's Sunbeam.  Be sure to mention me when the boys in prison ask
who it was that brought you down."
   "My eyes!  I can't see!  Guys, get out here!"
   Two men emerged from the jewelry store, loaded down with huge
bags of loot and large machine guns.  "Hi, boys," said Sunbeam,
standing in front of them, her body a living collection of
photons.  "Why don't we just go and put those trinkets back where
we found them, huh?"  The two crooks opened fire, point blank, and
dozens of armor-piercing projectiles passed harmlessly through the
teenaged superhero, striking an Oldsmobile that she was standing
in front of.  The car caught fire and exploded, with an impact
that sent Bull and the other two thieves tumbling to the ground.
   "Was that your getaway car?" asked Sunbeam, full of mock
compassion.  "Oops.  I guess you'll just have to get a ride with
my friend, Taximan.  Funny thing about Taximan, though...  Seems
he can only take you as far as the police station."
   "Okay, okay, we surrender!" shouted Bull.  His partners quickly
concurred.  Within a few minutes, Sunbeam had them securely bound
and gagged until Taximan could return.
   "Not bad," said Mr. Plasma, from the spot across the street
from which he had watched the entire battle.  "And you've mastered
the fine art of witty hero-banter as well!"
   Sunbeam took a few dance steps and curtsied.  "That was fun!
You do this sort of thing all the time?" she asked.
   "I used to do it every night, all by myself," he told her.  "It
was the only way I could think of to make sure that your death
hadn't been in vain."
   She was surprised.  "My death meant that much to you?"
   "It meant everything."  He looked down and drew in a deep
breath, as if to work up his courage.  "Laurel, I--  I--"
   "Yes?"
   "I'm really glad you're back," he said, though she was fairly
certain that those were not quite the words he had been trying so
hard to say.
   "Because now you don't have to be so obsessed about fighting
crime?" she asked.
   "Hmmm.  I hadn't thought of it like that...  I've gotten so
used to spending all of my nights out here on the street, but
maybe sometime we could, um--"
   "--do something together?" she asked.  The thought was
strangely appealing.  "Just you and me and no bad-guys?"
   "Well, yeah.  Maybe we could see a movie or something."
   "Why don't you go now?"  Mr. Plasma turned to see Taximan and
the Tesla Girls, who had just teleported onto the scene.  "You
could still catch the late show at the General Cinema," said
Cathode.
   "We couldn't do that to you guys," said Mr. Plasma.  "It's been
so busy tonight..."
   "Go," Taximan told him.  "We can take care of things without
you for a couple of hours, and if things really start to pick up,
I'll just come and get you."
   "Thanks, Nick!" said Sunbeam.
   "No problem.  Need a ride?"
   "We'll walk," said Mr. Plasma.  "It's such a nice night.
Laurel?"  She took his arm, and the two of them started off down
the street.
   "What a beautiful sight," said Anode with a sigh.  "Even when
the two of them were together before, I never thought I'd see them
together like that.  I didn't think Laurel was capable of letting
somebody get that close to her."
   "She's definitely a lot friendlier now," Cathode agreed.  "I
hope she stays this way after she gets over her amnesia and
remembers what a rotten person she used to be."
   "Okay, back to work," said Taximan.  "Unlike some other heroes
I could name, we don't get to take time off to attend royal
weddings in Europe."
   "We could gate-crash," Anode and Cathode suggested in unison.
"Please, Nick?" Anode added.
   "I'd like to," said Taximan, "but I wouldn't feel comfortable
attending a wedding without a formal invitation -- especially a
wedding like that one!"
   "I guess you're right," said Cathode.  "And maybe if we work a
little harder, we can get ourselves invited to the *next* wedding."
   "Dream on," said Anode, giving her sister a playful zap of
electricity.
   "Hey!  What was that for?"
   "Nothing, I just felt like it."
   "Well feel *this*!"
   "Oh yeah?"
   Anode and Cathode ran back and forth across the street, using
parked cars and lamp posts as cover as they attempted to tag each
other with electric coils.  Taximan brought the three would-be
robbers to the police station and returned before the Tesla Girls
even noticed that he had gone.


WHY DO I HAVE TO KEEP COMING UP WITH TEASER QUESTIONS?

WHAT POINT DO THEY REALLY SERVE?

ISN'T IT JUST PART OF THAT CONSPIRACY IN WHICH THE SUPERGUY AUTHORS TRY
   TO CONTROL HOW THE READERS THINK IN ORDER TO MAKE YOU ALL MORE
   SUSCEPTABLE TO OUR UNTIMATE PLAN TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD?

(What do you mean I shouldn't have told them about the conspiracy?)

(They're going to find out eventually, aren't they?)

(Hey, did I turn off the switch that allows the readers to see my
   parenthetical remarks?  Ooops...)

FORGET ALL THAT CONSPIRACY STUFF -- KEEP READING *SUPERGUY*!

(Great, now all the other authors are going to hunt me down and
   kill me...)

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  rights not specifically referred to in this notice are reserved
  to Greg Fishbone.  "Super Seven", "Dillweed City", and all
  character names used in this story are trademarks belonging to
  Greg Fishbone, who reserves all rights to their use except in
  the context of explicit or implicit permission granted to
  Superguy authors.  (Crispy Croutons contain: Aw, man!  This one
  would take up three pages if I wrote it all down!  Anchovies and
  tamarinds and molasses and worcestershire sauce solids -- yuck!)

--
Greg Fishbone                               fishbone@astro.ocis.temple.edu

    "Language lessons -- inspiring words from a man who knows how to ski."
                                                       --*Better Off Dead*