were storyboards everywhere—on the worktable, propped on easels, tacked to the wall—and each one depicted a different exciting superhero adventure.
Oh, Electra was in a creative frenzy, all right. But none of the adventures I was looking at had been “created.”
They'd been stolen.
I couldn't believe my eyes. Lightning Girl's newest adventures were actually some of Zip's oldest ones. Everything, it seemed, from the rescue of the interatmospheric craft to the smoke-filled Kremlin, had been taken right out of Grandpa's scrapbook.
I felt angry, disappointed, betrayed … and worried! This was not good. If Electra published these comics, Grandpa Zack's feats would be revealed. That was one huge step toward exposure! And if that happened, it would all be my fault.
I ran down the stairs, out the door, and down the long driveway. At the bottom, hidden by one of the wide brick pillars that flanked the entrance, I opened my backpack, rummaged around for my communication device, and began punching buttons.
“Hello? Thatcher? Are you there?”
A loud beep sounded, followed by a voice—not Thatcher's, but a robotic one.
“Thank you for calling the Superhero Federation. Please listen carefully, as our menu options have changed. If you have a question regarding Super health benefits, please press one. For information regarding the upcoming Super community tag sale, please press two.”
Tag sale? Were they kidding?
“If you are interested in upgrading your security clearance, press three. If you have reason to believe that you or a hero close to you has risked exposure, and for all other inquiries, please stay on the line. The next available operator will be with you in a moment.”
“C'mon,” I urged through my teeth. “Hurry.”
It seemed as if years passed before I finally made my connection.
“Good afternoon. Exposure Hotline. This is—”
“Thatcher? Is that you?”
“Yes.”
“It's me, Kid Zoom.”
“Well, hi-dee-ho there, Zoomling. Everyone here at the communications hub has been talking about your great work at the zoo the other day. Well done, well done.”
“Thanks, but Thatcher, I have a huge problem. I think I may have accidentally let secret information about my Zip ancestry be revealed to a non-Super.”
There was a long, worrisome silence.
I winced. “That bad, huh?”
“Hard to say.” There was another long pause. “Exposure is a serious and often dangerous matter,” said Thatcher, his voice sounding way more somber than before. “Irresponsible heroes who allow themselves to be revealed are severely dealt with.”
I gulped. “How severely?”
“Depends on which Federation members are called upon to hand down the penalty. Now …” There were faint shuffling sounds, as if he was looking for a pen. “Were you seen performing a heroic activity at the time of exposure and are you now surrounded by an angry mob intent on capturing you for the purpose of scientific research?”
“Uh … no.”
“Good. Then we aren't talking about an imminent threat of discovery. In that case, someone will be contacting you within ten to fourteen business days to obtain more detailed information regarding this potential exposure issue.”
“So I might have to wait two weeks before I know if I'm in trouble or not?”
“Don't worry, Zoom,” Thatcher assured me. “I doubt there'll be any actual trouble. It's been my experience that when Ordinaries come face to face with a superhero, they are either too narrow-minded or too frightened to allow themselves to believe it. Most of these potential exposure cases blow over. Trust me.”
“REALLY?”
“Really.”
I smiled, feeling relieved and comforted. “Hey, Thatch,” I said.
“Yes, Zoom?”
“Maybe one of these days I
will
bring you that pizza.”
I returned the device to my backpack and began walking slowly thinking about those storyboards that Electra had clearly not wanted me to see.
Now it was obvious why not!
I had so many
Oh, Electra was in a creative frenzy, all right. But none of the adventures I was looking at had been “created.”
They'd been stolen.
I couldn't believe my eyes. Lightning Girl's newest adventures were actually some of Zip's oldest ones. Everything, it seemed, from the rescue of the interatmospheric craft to the smoke-filled Kremlin, had been taken right out of Grandpa's scrapbook.
I felt angry, disappointed, betrayed … and worried! This was not good. If Electra published these comics, Grandpa Zack's feats would be revealed. That was one huge step toward exposure! And if that happened, it would all be my fault.
I ran down the stairs, out the door, and down the long driveway. At the bottom, hidden by one of the wide brick pillars that flanked the entrance, I opened my backpack, rummaged around for my communication device, and began punching buttons.
“Hello? Thatcher? Are you there?”
A loud beep sounded, followed by a voice—not Thatcher's, but a robotic one.
“Thank you for calling the Superhero Federation. Please listen carefully, as our menu options have changed. If you have a question regarding Super health benefits, please press one. For information regarding the upcoming Super community tag sale, please press two.”
Tag sale? Were they kidding?
“If you are interested in upgrading your security clearance, press three. If you have reason to believe that you or a hero close to you has risked exposure, and for all other inquiries, please stay on the line. The next available operator will be with you in a moment.”
“C'mon,” I urged through my teeth. “Hurry.”
It seemed as if years passed before I finally made my connection.
“Good afternoon. Exposure Hotline. This is—”
“Thatcher? Is that you?”
“Yes.”
“It's me, Kid Zoom.”
“Well, hi-dee-ho there, Zoomling. Everyone here at the communications hub has been talking about your great work at the zoo the other day. Well done, well done.”
“Thanks, but Thatcher, I have a huge problem. I think I may have accidentally let secret information about my Zip ancestry be revealed to a non-Super.”
There was a long, worrisome silence.
I winced. “That bad, huh?”
“Hard to say.” There was another long pause. “Exposure is a serious and often dangerous matter,” said Thatcher, his voice sounding way more somber than before. “Irresponsible heroes who allow themselves to be revealed are severely dealt with.”
I gulped. “How severely?”
“Depends on which Federation members are called upon to hand down the penalty. Now …” There were faint shuffling sounds, as if he was looking for a pen. “Were you seen performing a heroic activity at the time of exposure and are you now surrounded by an angry mob intent on capturing you for the purpose of scientific research?”
“Uh … no.”
“Good. Then we aren't talking about an imminent threat of discovery. In that case, someone will be contacting you within ten to fourteen business days to obtain more detailed information regarding this potential exposure issue.”
“So I might have to wait two weeks before I know if I'm in trouble or not?”
“Don't worry, Zoom,” Thatcher assured me. “I doubt there'll be any actual trouble. It's been my experience that when Ordinaries come face to face with a superhero, they are either too narrow-minded or too frightened to allow themselves to believe it. Most of these potential exposure cases blow over. Trust me.”
“REALLY?”
“Really.”
I smiled, feeling relieved and comforted. “Hey, Thatch,” I said.
“Yes, Zoom?”
“Maybe one of these days I
will
bring you that pizza.”
I returned the device to my backpack and began walking slowly thinking about those storyboards that Electra had clearly not wanted me to see.
Now it was obvious why not!
I had so many
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