The Descendant

The weekend was pretty quiet. Mom and Dad tried to monitor me without being obvious about it and kind of failed. Deri was up-front about why she dropped in my bedroom more, sent by the parents, of course. I didn't want to talk about anything, so I turned the tables on her and asked whether Van had made up her mind about being friends yet. She looked unhappy and shrugged.

"The longer it takes, the less I think that she wants to be friends with me again." She hung her head and admitted to her hands, "And she has reasons."

"So what happened this summer?" I'd been curious since she'd come back, but she'd been so snooty and full of herself I hadn't asked.

"I was away from the parents and their rules," she said with a sigh. "So I used my powers. Low grade setting, I had a bunch of friends and we tested the camp limits. We didn't do anything horrible that would have gotten us in big trouble, but I started to think that it was BS that I couldn't use it when and how I wanted. And I dodged the worst of the punishments. That was when Van started to draw back, I think. At school and scouts she keeps her distance."

I thought about that a bit. "Do you leave her alone entirely?"

"Yeah, I don't want to pressure her," she said.

"Try just saying hi when you see her, smile. Maybe just show her in little, non-pressure ways that you're still interested in being a real friend," I suggested. "Even if it doesn't work out, it's not bad to be friendly." I felt like a hypocrite saying that, I'm not the most friendly person out there, but Deri was different. She smirked and I knew she was thinking the same thing. I rolled my eyes and chased her out.

Iris also stopped by with Eira. There wasn't enough room on the window seat for her and my leg, so Iris sat with me and let Eira have the chair. "I would have come by sooner, but I thought you'd want some space to yourself," she said bluntly. "Miles sends his best, but he feels awkward that you were hurt coming home from his performance and that you can't dance anymore."

"Miles isn't usually that dumb," I observed. "He had nothing to do with it and it was fun to watch him perform." Iris hit me with a pillow.

"I have been trying for years to get him to be more sensitive to other people," she said in exasperation.

I smiled a little. "I appreciate the sentiment," I said patiently. "But just because he can still dance doesn't mean that he should feel bad about it." Eira stretched out her head and I skritched behind her ears and kissed her head. She's so sweet. "Dad had a security specialist in last week, Deri and I got a lecture to be compliant because kidnappers will take it out on you if you try to foil their plot." I sat and glowered.

"Well, no shit," she said, also rolling her eyes. "We all know that now. What else did they say?"

"That was the extent of their advice. Be quiet and nonconfrontational and wait for rescue. I've got a passive tracker chip and nobody can find fault with the systems that Uncle Tony put in my pod. Dad's looking in to upgrading the defenses on the estate." I sighed and she grimaced.

"We also got the trackers and Uncle Tony upgraded the AI programing in our pods," she said. "There's also a gizmo that alerts the authorities if my dorm window is jimmied or broken and the dorm is being upgraded with unpickable locks. I think Mom and/or Dad made a donation to the school." We grimaced at each other. Our parents weren't shy about spending money, but at least it didn't sound like this payout had the Wayne name attached, a nice perk. "You ought to get another chair up here, Lys," she said, looking around and changing the subject. "Then when you have a fire in your fireplace, somebody else could sit with you." She shuddered. "It's getting really cold early this year."

"You can light the candles," I said. "It's nice and cozy." She got up to do that, and Eira rearranged herself so that she could see the fire from the chair. It was a good-sized chair, but she's a huge dog-shaped person, and finally she gave up and went to stretch out in front of the candles. Iris took the chair.

"This really is nice, Lys," she said contentedly. "So what are you going to do now that dance is off the table? I can't imagine that Aunt Diana and Uncle Daniel will let you just do school and work."

"I've joined school clubs," I said mildly. "Maybe next semester after my leg heals I'll join the dance sport club, do ballroom dancing. The doctor says I'll have full range of motion and the demands of that kind of dancing just can't be the same. But somebody suggested, back when I quit scouts, that I make my own badges, you know, research things I'm interested in, do projects. They can be more detailed than what I'd get in scouts and tailored to my interests."

"Ooh, that sounds fun," she said immediately. We talked about it a little before I diverted her by asking questions about college. Since I wouldn't be dancing in a company, it looked like college was back in my future again. It did sound like fun and interesting. And it diverted her from more questions about the research thing, which I didn't think I'd do. It seemed like too much effort.

I went to school early on Monday to get help with trig. I told myself that I was over the hump, I had only about a month and a half left, then it was on to pre-calc. That had to be better, right? As I crutched down the hall toward the math lab, a student who was trying to put a banner up by himself lost control of one end and swore. I diverted and used my crutch to hold it in place while he taped it to the wall.

"Thanks," he said. "I wanted to get this up before everybody got here and the halls got crowded." I looked up and saw it was an announcement that the Red Cross Club was going to sponsor a first aid class after classes next week, one hour a day, and you'd be certified in first aid and CPR afterward. It cost twenty dollars, which seemed really reasonable.

"That sound interesting and useful," I said wryly, and he laughed and handed me a flyer.

"I'm Rob, Rob Murdock," he said. "You're Anna, right?" I nodded. "Nice to meet you. If you're looking for a new activity, we always welcome new members. Next semester we sponsor a life guarding/swim safety class and we can always use more hands. It's fun and looks good on your application for college or trade school," he said, relentlessly cheerful. "Never hurts to get an early start on those activities, hold some offices." I laughed.

"Well, I think I'll take the first aid class, go from there," I said, and he beamed.

"Great," he said enthusiastically. "Time and place--we're in the school theater--are on your flyer, so bring your twenty bucks and your willingness to learn a useful skill. Will you still be on crutches then?"

"Yeah, probably for another month and a half."

"Ok, that's fine, the reason I asked is that we can accommodate your crutches and cast so that you're not struggling to get up off the floor, but it'll take a little planning is all."

"Thanks," I said, and he shrugged.

"No problem. See you then,' he said, and with a smile, collected his stuff and hustled off to hang some posters in the cafeteria. A lot of students had breakfast at school, some because it helped their family's food budget, and others because they did study groups over the food. It was a lot better than hospital food, but not as good as breakfast from home; I always drank my smoothie on the way in. I went on to math lab, where while I didn't understand it any better, I learned a system for doing the math. I was happy with that. I trudged through the usual Monday morning drudgery until chemistry. I dragged my feet (well, foot anyway,) timing it to get there just before the bell.

"Whatever you're thinking, it probably isn't what is really going on," Imogen said rapidly as I got ready for lecture. "Will you be at lunch?"

"No, Mr Steward is bringing a guest speaker, we get extra credit for showing up."

"Shit. Well, will you meet me after school on the athletic field bleachers? We can't all be there but we can explain." I considered this, then agreed. The bell rang before anything else could be said, and I concentrated on organic structures and naming. Yuck. After that, it was back to English class, where our guest speaker awaited. When I left for my afternoon classes, I felt a lot better. The Wakandan embassy was doing outreach, and the English teachers of our school had applied for the guest speaker; they'd been sent one of the country's rising young writers, who gave us advanced reading copies of her new work and explained the Wakandan tradition of prose and poetry.

I went out to the athletic field after school rather reluctantly. It was a sharp, cold, windy day, and while the football team had to be out there, I didn't. To my surprise, there were a few other groups of students there as well, chatting and taking it easy as they watched the practice. Jinx, Imogen, and Justine were waiting, a few rows up, a good distance away from any other students, but not so far that it looked like they were hiding anything. I sat down with a groan of relief (I think I'm going to be tired for quite some time) and we all looked at each other.

"Look, I don't have much time, so let's just cut to the chase," Justine said quietly. "I'm due at the library in about half an hour." She was a page for the NYPL. "So yeah, we did check you out. Lysippe Wayne, first daughter of Daniel Wayne and Diana Prince-Wayne, one younger sister Derinoe. I'm assuming you took "Anna" from your middle name, Alexandria, presumably named after your many-times great grandmother. You had a really basic sweet sixteen party, which caused you to be ostracized at school and dumped by your social climbing friends. Your family is very prominent, titans of industry, movers and shakers, socially prominent. And in your family, you have several iterations of Batman as well as Wonder Woman, the Robins, all that, and in your extended family, Captain America, the Winter Knight, The Armorer/Paladin/Poppy, Iron Man, Black Widow, one of the Hawkeyes, and loose ties to the ruling families of Wakanda and Asgard. And let's not forget the inimitable Catwoman." I went rigid with surprise, shock, and dismay.

"You're not the only one with secrets, Anna," Jinx said grimly. "Bad guys know the identities of good guys, and the reverse. For the most part. And for some reason, family is usually but not always left alone." He let out a breath. "Phoenix Chesterfield. His dad is Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot. The Penguin. Aristotle Elliot, his dad is Dr Thomas Elliot, AKA Hush. Mark Carlton, son of Professor Jonathan Crane, Scarecrow."

"Justine Valentin, daughter of Lazlo Valentin, Professor Pyg."

"My mother was the second Tarantula, Catalina Flores," Imogen said tersely.

"I'm Jinx Johnson," Jinx said. "Jinx Quinn Johnson. My parents are Harley Quinn and the Joker."