Dreadnought (Nemesis, #1)

by April Daniels

Magic is things like witches spinning thread out of moonlight, and using that to weave a cord for binding lies. It’s dangerous and unpredictable and not easy to replicate. Supposedly it’s more common in parts of Europe and a lot of India, but even there it’s a relic of the past. “No, I believe in magic.” I’m not sure I believe someone at our school can work any magic, though.

Things seem somehow more distinct in this corner of the shop, distinct and yet looser. I open my eyes in surprise. Charlie’s got a look on his face like I’ve suddenly caught his interest. “Go on,” he says. “Am I missing something?” asks Sarah. “Yes.” He waves at her to pipe down. “Go on, Danny.”

“That’s uh, hm. That’s…really neat,” says Charlie. “I can also bench press a school bus,” I mutter, cheeks hot.

Hairs stand up all the way down my back, tight and chilly. Yeah, yeah, I can fly and shit, but…well, magic is spooky. I don’t know how to explain it. It just is.

“Well, technically Charlie is baseline, but he has an esoteric skill.

“I’m bulletproof and I can juggle dumpsters,” I say quietly. “Give it up. We just want to talk. If I take my hand off your mouth, are you going to be quiet?”

Something clicks, and I realize what it is about Gerald that seems so familiar. He’s the man I was scared I would grow into. “Yes, I do,” I say.

“Uh, no. We don’t really talk since, well, he doesn’t like that I’m transgender.”

“Oh.” Her face clouds. “I’m…I’m sorry to hear that.”

When Dad’s not home I like to do homework in the dining room, so I go get my books and notepaper. It’s hard to focus. My mind keeps flitting back to what Calamity and I are going to do tonight, but I’ve got a test tomorrow so I need to get this knocked out before I go caping again. I open my math book and gird myself to do battle with binomial equations.

Mom nods like it makes sense, like any of this makes sense, and dives back into her reading. Or, no. Tries to. A few minutes later she looks up. “Danny, are you really happy like this?” The answer comes immediately. “Yes.” “You’re not going to consent to hormone shots.” It’s not a question. “No.” We both know that’s the end of the line. I’m fifteen, which is old enough to put up a fight. My situation is too strange, too exotic, for the doctors to have any firm ethical guidelines. I doubt any of them would risk doing something that could get them sued once I turn eighteen.

She stares into her mug of tea. “I feel like I’ve lost my son.” “Mom, you never had a son.” Mom seems to crumple. “We tried so hard, Danny. Is it something I did wrong?”

“I was going to die.” The pencil snaps between my fingers, one end cartwheeling off across the table and onto the floor. “And I am a girl. Even if you don’t see it.” The chair scrapes the floor as I stand up. My homework crinkles as I slam my books closed, scoop them up in my arms, and head up to my room. Do I want her to call out after me? I don’t know. She doesn’t.

“Lockpicking with actual lockpicks is for eccentrics, hobbyists, and morons,” she says. “You’re not an eccentric?”

“It’s okay.” Like a bubble rising from the depths, the question forms and is out of my lips before I really think about it. “Is it selfish that I kinda just want to be Danielle right now?”

and I nod and say its one of my superpowers to be impossibly beautiful, but it still looks like fun to get made up. Sarah sputters for a little while.

We get some food at a diner, and this is something I can afford so I insist that she lets me treat her. She spends the meal smiling deeply, staring out the window and flicking occasional glances my way. It’s nice having a friend.

But if you wanna quit the moment it gets hard, then I’ll not cry to see the back of you.”

One is human. The other…the other is not.

“Do you have any idea what kind of month I’ve had?”

“I saw you hiding down there with Dreadnought,” she says quietly, barely louder than the snapping flames. “After killing two of your predecessors, I knew the mantle would pass on. It always does. I chose to let you have it, and to let you live. You were no threat to me, so there was no need to kill you. Since then, I have been following your development with some interest.”

Her chest cavity pops open, and the searing cobalt beam leaps out at me. I jump clear in time. Calamity doesn’t.

With a conviction I can’t account for, I know that nothing will ever really work quite right in this place again.

Danielle.

“What?” The fear in my chest explodes into ice. I look around frantically. Calamity lies on her back, her hat knocked away. Her breath is coming in short, hard gasps. The left side of her body is a ruin. Her charred skin weeps at the cracks. Her arm…oh God…her arm. It’s nothing but ash and gore, more bone than flesh. The melted remains of her pistol have fused with what was her hand. A stupid, feeble protest bursts from my lips. “No!”

Calamity is too smart to lose, too brave to die. I am a child. In one hideous epiphany I realize that, powers or not, I’m just an idiot little girl who is in way over her head.

“Danny.” Even saying this much seems to exhaust her. “I’ve been ready to die since I was four years old. Take me home.”

“I see.” There’s no judgment in his voice, and for that I am more thankful than I can express. He doesn’t push. He waits for me to keep going.

“This isn’t about what you did wrong, Danny. Just tell me what happened.”

When I tell Magma she knows my real name, he shows emotion for the first time. Grief, but not surprise.

“Yes, you should have, but I was going to say you did the best you could under difficult circumstances, and I think we owe you an apology for not being a more hospitable source of guidance for you.”

We failed you, and she paid the price. But you? You did the best you could.”

He pats me on the shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Danielle.” His smile disappears. “Are you going to be okay?”

“No, Danny! She’s not okay. I had to cut her goddamn arm off.” Doc Impossible presses her eyes closed with her fingertips. “Shit, I’m sorry. It’s…I just hate treating kids. I never had the stomach for it. She’ll live. She’s stable for now, but her body needs rest. She and I have some decisions to make in the morning.”

But I don’t want Doc Impossible to be one of the bad guys. I don’t want Magma or Valkyrja to be people I can’t trust. I don’t think I could stand that. Not right now, and probably not ever. Tomorrow it might get complicated again.

“Danny, why do you want to be a superhero?” Doc Impossible looks at me. She seems so incredibly tired. “I don’t.” The answer comes before I think about it, and I feel vaguely guilty about it. “You wouldn’t have been out there tonight if this wasn’t what you wanted,” she says. “You just haven’t given yourself permission to admit it.”

So finally, finally, I tell her the truth and hope it doesn’t sound vain. “I want to help people.” “And that is beautiful, and you’re amazing.”

You could be the best firefighter in the history of fire. You could be a one-woman space program and explore Mars for us. Every single person who has put on the mantle and used it to fight has been killed in action. Every one of them. It is a job with a one hundred percent mortality rate. You could be anyone you want to be, do anything you want to do. Why do you want to get murdered?”

The way she says it makes something click. For a moment I stare into my cocoa and try to figure out how I want to phrase this. “Doc, can I ask you kind of a personal question?” “Go ahead.” “How long have you known you’ve made the wrong choice?”

She shakes her head. “Can’t. I made an enemy who will follow me no matter where I go or what I do. It’s not real safe for me to leave the Tower, so I do my work from here. Sometimes we make choices, and we don’t realize they’re permanent until it’s too late.” “I’m sorry.” For what it’s worth, I really am. I’m beginning to understand why someone wouldn’t want to do this forever. I’m also beginning to understand that not once this whole time have I ever thought about tonight as the horrible thing I’ll never let happen in my life again. No, I’ve been thinking about it as the first time things got bad. The first time.

The front door opens. A figure steps out, dark and wearing some strange draping garment. It turns to say something to my father as it leaves. The light doesn’t seem to catch the person as clearly as it should, but when it turns in profile I see a raven perched on its shoulder. Graywytch.

“It’s not about what you’ve done. It’s about what you’ll do. Dreadnought cannot be a transwoman, I won’t allow it. The damage you could do to women once the media gets wind of you would be incalculable. Already you’ve nearly killed one of us. How many more must suffer to satisfy your sickness?”

For a moment, I think she’s gone. When her voice comes again, it is tight with fury. “Magic leaves no fingerprints, Daniel. You will surrender your powers, or by the end of the month you will die in agony and damn the mantle if it is lost. Nobody will believe you. Nobody will help you. Nobody can. Not your parents. Not the Legion. Not your fists. Your only hope is surrender. I will leave you to think on that.”

I look at the couch. Look at him. Sigh. “Earlier tonight I saw my best friend get her arm burned off with a laser cannon, so if it’s all the same to you, can this wait until tomorrow?” “You won’t speak to me like that, son,” says Dad. “I’m your daughter.” I’m just as surprised as he is that I’ve found a spine at last.

“Why would I want to risk it? I’m happy this way. I told you, I’m transgender, and this is the best transition I could ever hope for.”

My eyes start to prickle. I clench my jaw. That bitch. That horrible bitch. I’ve been waiting years for him to say something like this. Seems like my whole life, all I ever wanted was for him to tell me it was okay to be who I am. Now he is. And it hurts like nothing I’ve ever felt before. My vision is blurry. My throat is tight. Dad steps forward, arms wide for one of those stupid manly hugs he’s obsessed with. “DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!”

“You’ve said what you want,” she says. Her arms are crossed, her shoulders pulled up, but she’s looking me dead in the eye. “We want our son.” “Mom, no.” My feet touch ground again, but it doesn’t feel solid. Everything is sliding away, spiraling down into chaos. “Yes, Danny. I thought we just had to make the best of it. But you’ve been lying to us this whole time, making this huge decision that affects all of us all on your own, and not even telling us what options we had. It’s got to stop.” “It’s my decision!” This is insane. The world has gone mad. How can this be anything but my decision?

“There’s nothing to talk about.” It’s a struggle to keep my voice down. “I’m a girl, and I always have been. The difference is now you can see it.”

I clench my fists, painful tight. “I am never going back.” “Fine then.” Dad walks over to the front door and rips it open. “Leave.” From way at the back of my skull, I watch my body turn and leave the house I grew up in. The door slams behind me.

I should have let him die. I regret that he’s still alive, and I’m ashamed that I regret that, but I’m also frustrated that I’m ashamed because it’s not like I don’t have reasons. This sucks.