“C’mon, Pieter! Betcha can’t climb this high!” Dodger crowed from his position on the top of the first shelving unit. skeeter was out of the room, and his harmless game of tag with the three year-old Peter clone had quickly turned into a rather formidable display of little-boy machismo.
“I dunno,” Pieter said nervously. “We’re not s’posed to climb . . . not unless a grownup helps us.”
“We don’t need grownups!” Dodger crowed, raising his arms in a definite ‘king of the world’ gesture. “Now are you coming or not?”
Pieter bit his lip and looked around. The common room of the Library was deserted, except . . . He noticed a boy peeking out from behind one of the stacks. The way his dark hair hung in a flip over his left eye identified him as a Mike clone, but Pieter had never seen him before. “Dodder, whossat?” he asked, pointing at the boy.
Dodger followed Pieter’s outstretched hand. “Oh, that’s Dante.”
Pieter frowned. “Dante? Who’s his mama and daddy?”
“Aunt Mich and Uncle Nev,” Dodger replied.
Pieter looked back at Dante doubtfully. The other boy hadn’t moved. “Can he play wif us, too?” he said, pitching his voice so that only Dodger could hear.
Dodger glanced briefly at Dante and shook his head, quickly changing the subject. “Now come on, Pieter—or are you chicken?” Dodger began to cluck mockingly and Pieter stuck out his chin. With a harsh cry of “I’m not scared!” he grabbed the first shelf and pulled himself up, taking one last look over his shoulder.
Dante was gone.
~*~
“Mornin’, skeeter,” Nev said. skeeter was walking down the hall with a can of pop in one hand, and a book—balanced precariously on a box a chocolates—in the other. Nev reached out and neatly caught the book as it slid from its perch.
“Thanks, Nev,” she said breathlessly. “I just went to get a drink real quick and then I got talking to Caroline and worked up an appetite so I had to get some chocolate . . . ” She trailed off, blushing slightly when she realized she’d been rambling.
Nev just smiled. “Oh, I know the feelin’,” he said. “I was lookin’ for Dante. Have you seen him around?”
skeeter shook her head. “No, I haven’t. Is he lost?”
Nev shrugged. “Not really, I suppose. I keep tellin’ that kid not to run off but man is he fast.”
skeeter laughed. “Welcome to parenthood, Nev.” They strolled to the main room, Nev holding the door open for her.
The first thing that they saw was Pieter, dangling from one of the upper shelves on the first unit. They heard the sharp crack of splintering wood and Pieter’s terrified scream as the wooden edifice creaked and listed dangerously, spilling its books onto the floor with thuds and the rustling of pages. Pieter’s hands lost their tenuous grip and he fell, crying out sharply as he hit the floor and was struck with several large books.
“PIE!” skeeter cried, lunging forward.
Nev grabbed her and pulled her back. “No! Stay here—I’ll get him!” He could see that the shelving unit was still tottering on its edge; he didn’t want it to fall and hurt her. He took off running, knowing that the shelves were only about a hundred feet away, but it seemed more like a hundred yards. Dodger clung to the top as it fell, his eyes round with terror, too shocked to even scream. Pieter was still lying on the floor, staring up at the edges of the shelves that loomed over him, about to come down with the force of a five hundred-pound guillotine. Nev ran even faster, hoping that he’d at least be able to pull Pieter out of the way or shield him somehow . . . His heart nearly burst with the realization that he wasn’t going to make it in time.
Something small and black flashed by him, and a pair of hands reached out and caught the shelving unit, stopping it dead. Dodger squealed, the sudden cessation of movement nearly causing him to lose his grip.
Nev looked over, half-expecting to see Mich. His throat twisted painfully and he released a surprised squawk to see Dante standing only feet away, his thin arms effortlessly supporting the quarter ton framework.
Dante slowly looked up, noticing the horrified, awed expressions on their faces. His eyebrows crept upwards and his green eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry . . . ” he whispered.
Nev held out a hand. “It’s okay, Dante. You didn’t do anythin’ wrong. It’s just . . . a surprise. Now, just hang on to that for a second, okay?” Dante nodded.
Nev pulled a sobbing Pieter out from under the books and handed him to skeeter, who hauled him up into her arms, quietly shushing his cries.
“You okay, Dodge?” Nev said, gently lowering the trembling Davy clone to the floor. Dodger nodded wordlessly, his saucer eyes still gaping at Dante.
“Okay, Dan—just set it down real slow,” Nev said. Dante obediently bent his knees and lowered the shelving unit to the floor as Mich appeared at the door.
“I heard shouting and—”
Nev turned and saw her jaw drop. “It’s okay, Mich.”
Mich pointed at Dante. “Wha . . . what?”
Dante scanned the awed faces before him and howled miserably. Mich ran to him and scooped him up, hugging the crying child to her. “Ssh, it’s okay, sweetie. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She rocked Dante while giving Nev a look that clearly said What the hell . . . ?
“I don’t know, Mich,” Nev said. Although I have a pretty good idea . . .
Dante continued to sob as Dodger walked over, reaching up to tug on his sleeve. He stopped crying, turning his swollen green eyes on the young Davy clone.
“Thanks, Dante. For savin’ us. You wanna play?”
~*~
“Well Mich,” Camille said. “Your son has powers.”
Mich darted a quick look at her son; Dante was stalking Higgs, who was crouched down behind one of the computer banks. “How can you tell?”
Camille’s lips quirked wryly. “Aside from catching and holding a shelving unit that weighs almost ten times what he does?” She held up her wrist. “He was able to read the numbers on my watch upside down from twenty feet away.”
Mich gave a resigned shrug. “He’s got powers, then.” She watched Dante leap at Higgs, knocking the much larger man to the ground. Higgs growled playfully and tickled Dante, laughing with satisfaction at the boy’s squeals of laughter.
“What about his temper?” she said, studying the floor.
“What about it?”
“Camille, my powers have radically altered my temper—it’s more powerful than ever before. And Dante is half-Nesmith. Even worse.” She sniffed and scrubbed at her eyes. “I just don’t want him to have to go through what I’ve gone through.”
Camille edged closer and put her arm around her cybertwin’s shoulders. “A lot of that depends largely on how you and Nev raise him. Kids naturally look to their parents, so if you set a good example I wouldn’t worry. Has he exhibited any temper?”
Mich shook her head. For the past two weeks Dante had displayed nothing except quiet good-naturedness. “No. He’s very mild and slightly shy, kind of like I was when I was little.”
Camille nodded. “The way I see it, Dante has an advantage over you. Your powers aren’t native to you—you’ve had them for less than a year and you’ve had to figure them out yourself. Dante’s had them since the day he was ‘born.’ He probably knows—or will know—more about them than you do. And even if he doesn’t, he has two short-tempered, quick-to-react parents who understand what it’s like. You two can help him if it turns out that he has a Mich-sized temper.”
Mich nodded. Camille was making perfect sense—as usual—but Mich was still afraid. She didn’t want her son to go through life with a monster inside of him, his emotions running rampant and leading him—and others—into danger.
Camille noticed the uncertainty on Mich’s face. “If you’re really that concerned, there is another option.”
“What?”
“We can put him back into the transmogrifier and remove his powers.”
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