The Girl With Green Scales: A Gen M Novel

Chapter 15: Captain Light

Ms. Karuthers stiffens.

"I'm sure Ms. K. has things under control," the man in the tracksuit says. "Hi," he says to me. "You must be Lilianne. I'm Coach Gentry. This is Medic Malaise," he gestures to the gaunt woman, "and, most importantly, our headmistress," he indicates the rubbery woman, "Madame Stique."

Their names all feel very Jupitar Island.

"Welcome Lilianne," the headmistress says. "You've made quite the entrance." Her rubbery body puffs in and out as she speaks.

Medic Malaise appraises me haughtily and holds an on-the-go toward me. It blips and bleeps, scanning me with a green light. "I'll need to run a full blood and excretion panel, but it would seem your DNA's still in flux. Let's hope you sort this out," her finger zigzags in front of my dichotomous face, "before your genes lock, otherwise, you'd best get used to that muzzle."

Coach Gentry rolls his eyes. "The girl's in good hands."

"Is she?" the medic challenges. "Is that why Captain Light's waiting for Ms. Karuthers' ward in the library?"

I tense at the mention of the legendary Supergenic's name. I remember what he did to the mutated spider creature and then—

"Lilianne, you do know who Captain Light is, don't you dear?" the medic presses.

I try to relax my spine. "He's a member of A.M.M.O.," I say. Until today, I believed Captain Light killed Anton in the Yellow Zone. I release a tremulous breath. It's good to be wrong.

The medic laughs. "I see Lilianne's reducation is coming right along. Little one, on this side of the river, Captain Light is a Hope Enforcement and Remediation Officer. H.E.R.O. for short." I hear the condescension in her voice. She wanted me to get the answer wrong. I don't care. Captain Light must be here because of Anton.

What am I going to say? I can't lie to Captain Light, can I?

The headmistress dabs at her lips with a cherry-printed kerchief. "He'd like to discuss the details of what happened in Mange Town."

"Yes," the medic says, sitting on the back of a couch and leaning forward in a way that emphasizes her gaunt ribs, "what did happen?"

"The library is this way, Lilianne," Ms. Karuthers says, ignoring the question and guiding me by the shoulders out of the room. The adults stare as she takes me down the hall.

My temples throb. What's Captain Light going to do to me? To Anton?

Ms. Karuthers slides open a set of wooden doors, revealing a chamber that could swallow Amma and Appa's townhouse whole. It rises three stories, with shelves that run from floor to ceiling, all filled with books. Hover platforms bob near the floor; leather-padded chairs surround a massive table, and hover globes cast a soothing light.

Sitting in a wingback chair by a cold fireplace is a man who needs no introduction on either side of the river—Captain Light. A silver uniform with an orange lightning bolt hugs his muscled form while his customary cowl sits on a side table. He's unperturbed by a strange mist undulating around his feet as he calmly reads a book called Romeo and Juliet. I don't see the Ministry of Infotainment's seal of approval on the cover. Maybe that's not how things work on this side of the river. I really have to start my reducation modules.

In his other hand, Captain Light swirls a glass. I catch the scent of orange liquor. He takes a sip.

"Give me my Romeo," he reads aloud, "and, when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night." The mist swirls at his words. He snaps the book shut and sets it next to his cowl. The mist softens into a seeping carpet. "I love that EverMight has all these physical books. Being in this room always gives me a sense of peace. That's what helped me learn to control my abilities. Until then, they kept me in a bunker outside the mansion. For my field trip, Bijalee," he gestures at Ms. Karuthers, "took me to The Depot. Horrible place." Ms. Karuthers nudges me in his direction. He gestures at a second wingback chair, angled toward his. I sit, dwarfed by the large cushion.