Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/1546109.

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Teen And Up Audiences

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Megamind (2010)
Megamind, Minion (Megamind), Warden, Metro Man
Action/Adventure, Drama, Humor, Teen Angst, Violence, Government
Conspiracy
Published: 2014-05-04 Completed: 2016-01-28 Chapters: 36/36
Words: 186308

Stepping Out
by ladyspock7
Summary

Fifteen year old Megamind has had it with prison life and decides to strike out on his own.
With Minion, of course. All he has to do is survive a harsh Michigan winter, dodge the
cops, avoid the super-powered Wayne Scott, and escape the clutches of a new and
powerful enemy. Besides that, no problem.

The Incident
"Two wrongs don't make a right, but they make a good excuse." -Thomas Stephen Szasz
------------------------------------------------------------Megamind frowned at the hydraulic press. As the familiar murmur of men and machines swirled
around him, the fifteen year old inmate was glad that it wasn't possible to actually die of boredom.
Sid and Lenny passed by. Sid was in full complaint mode.
Charlie never puts the mop heads in the wash, Sid said.
Give him a break. He's got asthma, said Lenny.
He just says that to get out of work, Sid griped. I'm always cleaning up after him!
Megamind sighed. He'd heard the same conversations a million times and made about a billion
license plates.
His mind wandered to the National Geographic article about jet packs, which was far more
interesting. The article was short on technical details but he'd read it so often he had it memorized.
'...propulsion system strong enough to lift a grown man the size of Michael Jackson into the air as
a cool exit from a concert stage...the stuff of science fiction made real...' Idly he twirled a license
plate in his hands.
He jumped when someone struck the press with a wrench. The resounding clang was like a slap
to the ears. He glared at Justin Henkler, fellow prisoner and bane of his existence. Justin was like
an older brother. In some ways exactly like an older brother. Justin grinned, baring his crooked
teeth. His mousy brown hair frizzed all over his head like a supernova. There were a couple of
residual pimples hanging on for dear life on his chin.
Gotta wake you up somehow, he said innocently. You're daydreaming all day. Want me to
knock your fat head next time? I can't miss. He sniggered.
How about you go away and come back when you learn a new joke? Ten or twelve years, say?
Megamind said, sneering. Justin gave him a hard look. Megamind glared back and clenched his
fists, in case Justin tried to give him a noogie. Whatever that was. Apparently it involved yelling
the word in an annoying voice and putting the victim in a headlock. Last month Megamind had to
punch and elbow Justin to get him to back off. He did not have any desire to find out what a
noogie was. It sounded very unpleasant.
I hear you're taking the GED next week, Megamind said. He made his voice slow and precise,
for the hard of thinking. Let me give you some hints. One plus one is two, two plus two is four,
four plus---
Sarcasm was not in Justin's vocabulary, but he knew it when he heard it. He leaned forward a little
to deliver a rebuttal, but stopped as he sensed the heavy tread of the guard. George Bronski
eclipsed the lights as he paused to give them his full attention. Justin scurried back to his station
and Megamind immediately turned back to his press. Bronski was a new guard, an ex-boxer, and,
like many new recruits, was altogether too eager to enforce rules.
After a tense moment, Bronski appeared to be satisfied that his presence had gotten results. He
lumbered on to intimidate the rest of the room.

Megamind paused to look around for Minion. Minion, from his own station next to Harry the
embezzler, had noticed his exchange with Justin and was anxiously peering at him. Harry, too,
was looking at him with a worried expression in his watery eyes. Minion's linebacker-sized
robotic suit was the largest model yet and Megamind was proud of his work. For being
constructed from bits and pieces salvaged from the mechanic's bay and the prison dump, it was
quite effective. It protected Minion, gave him freedom of movement, and incidentally protected
Megamind too. More than a few fights had been averted by the looming, scowling presence of
Minion. There were times when one of Megamind's innocent remarks rubbed some inmate the
wrong way. But it was amazing how quickly the offended party backed off when Minion towered
over them.
Megamind gave them a little nod and a grin. No problem here. He could handle Justin. Minion
smiled and nodded back. Megamind turned back to the press. He maintained enough presence of
mind not to get his fingers caught in the press but his mind was elsewhere.
'...the amount of thrust required to lift any sort of substantial weight is comparable'...well, part of
the problem is the power source. They could get better results if they would just--He was shoved hard from behind. He fell against the press, banging his shoulder.
Ow! he shouted. Furious, he whirled around and glared at the smirking Justin.
Two aisles down, Bronski lifted his head and changed course. He began to scull his way back
towards the commotion.
Justin sneered at Megamind. Poor baby. You gonna sic your pet fish on me? Snorting, he began
to turn away.
Megamind snatched up a license plate and whipped it at him. Justin dodged. The plate whirred
through the air like a homicidal pheasant and struck the approaching guard smartly across the
forehead. Bronski's head snapped back out of sheer surprise. He staggered back a step, then
straightened up, rocking a little.
Megamind froze. Justin's eyes bulged. Minion gasped and the entire room held its breath.
Well, isn't this an interesting development, Megamind thought, swallowing through a throat gone
dry. Never hit a guard before. Needled, yes. Heckled, sure. But struck? That was taking it a bit
far. It had been an accident, but ol' George didn't look very amenable to an apology.
Generally he considered the guards to be one of those inevitable hardships, sort of like the
weather. You could complain about the rain all you liked, but you weren't supposed to attack it.
Justin carefully sidled away, leaving a clear path. Bronski slowly raised a disbelieving hand to the
cut on his forehead. He looked at the red smear on his fingertips.
Megamind watched in horrified fascination as the shock in the man's face turned to fury. He was
dimly aware that Minion was working his way over but Megamind didn't dare take his eyes off
Bronski. A small, crazed grin hitched up half of Megamind's mouth.
When Bronski lunged at him, he bolted and dove under a table. Bronski grabbed his ankle,
Minion tackled Bronski, and the room erupted. Justin and a couple of other troublemakers began
flinging tools around. The older prisoners shouted at them and backed up out of the chaos.
You stupid punks!
You're gonna get us all in trouble!

I'm not cleanin' that up!

The guard by the door shouted out into the hallway. Backup! Help! We need backup now!
The force of Minion's tackle caused Bronski to lose his grip and Megamind hopped up on the
other side of the table. Good job, Minion, he shouted, making the most of it. Guards were
pushing their way in to re-establish control. It would have, perhaps, been more prudent to
surrender, but Megamind's blood was up, and something in him was not about to go quietly. He
considered fleeing out into the hallway, but there was a crush of people by the door, struggling
and shouting.
Two guards were advancing. He fled, flinging boxes and tools in his wake to slow up the pursuit.
Run, Meg, run! Justin crowed.
I'll get you, Megamind seethed, You sorry son of a--They were tasering Minion. George Bronski jerked himself free as the heavy metallic body
slumped over. The bowl of the dome opened. It might've been the electrical charge interfering
with the suit's features that caused it to malfunction. Or Minion himself opened it, in his state of
shock and disorientation. The result was the same. Minion spilled out onto the floor. The guards
backed away from the flood of water. Then one of them kicked Minion into a table leg.
No! Megamind shouted. Heedless of the orders to halt, he hurtled over and around obstacles.
The small body came into view as he rounded the last corner and then Bronski stepped into his
path and punched him between the eyes.
He landed painfully against one of the presses. When his vision cleared, he caught a merciful
glimpse of Harry, who darted in among the milling feet and snatched Minion off the floor. Then
Bronski blocked his line of sight and knocked him out.
----------------------------------------------Minion floated, sore and angry, in the aquarium in the assistant's office. There weren't any fish in
it. Just him. He'd been banished to the tank before, on other occasions when they'd been punishing
his master. He wondered how long he'd be stuck in here this time. Nobody would tell him. A lot
of people wouldn't talk to him at all when he wasn't encased in his robotic suit. They ignored him
like he was just some fish. The robot suit, which gave him a roughly humanoid form, suggested
more strongly to others that he was, in fact, a sentient being capable of rational thought. That and
the fact that he could crush skulls with his metallic hands also helped gain a little respect. Not that
he'd ever actually do any crushing, actually. But he certainly seemed capable of it; it preyed on
people's minds. It encouraged them to talk to him with at least a little civility.
His sides ached where the point of the guard's boot had struck him, and from his collision with the
table leg. He was grateful for Harry's brave action. Interfering in guard business of subduing
unruly prisoners, was dangerous, even if it was an act of mercy. Harry was lucky he hadn't been
subdued himself.
Harry saved Minion from getting stomped, and brought him over to a sink full of water. A
sympathetic guard later allowed Harry to take Minion to the aquarium. The robotic suit was, he
thought, shoved away into a closet somewhere.
Andrew Johnson, the warden's assistant, typed busily away on a computer. The gentle bubbling of
the aquarium was the only other sound in the room, other than the sound of irate voices which
came from behind the warden's closed door. They were too muffled for Minion to make out what

they were saying.

Andrew tapped fussily at a small stack of files, looked at the door, and sighed. Finally he pressed
his lips together in a thin line and went to open the door.
The voices grew louder.
--- let a thing like that slide, warden! He attacked a guard!
It wasn't intentional! Bronski wasn't even the target.
"Any prisoner who strikes a guard gets solitary! the first voice insisted. If we don't enforce the
rules---
There are rules governing humane treatment. Like not beating prisoners unconscious---what is it
Andrew!
I'm sorry, sir, these really need your approval before I can transfer them.
"All right, let me see them.
Minion leaned against the wall of the aquarium to hear better. There was the ruffle of pages
turning, the creak of chairs as bodies shifted in their seats. Someone sighed heavily. There was the
sound of a pen scribbling across paper.
Thank you, Mr. Parker, Andrew said. He came out of the warden's office and, to Minion's
disappointment, closed the door again. The voices that drifted out were much quieter.
Several minutes later, the chief security officer came out of the warden's office.
I'll see to it, John, he said. As he passed Andrew's desk, he glared at Minion, then strode over to
the tank. Minion fluttered nervously into a corner.
You want to see your little prince again, you better behave yourself, he said in a low voice.
Minion blinked at him. What's he think I'm gonna do, stuck in here? Minion thought. Splash water
on the carpet?
With a final glower, the man left.
John Parker came out of his office. Would you mind making some coffee for us?
Sure thing, warden.
While Andrew went to the cupboard, Parker pulled a chair over to the aquarium and sat down. He
rested an elbow on one of the arms and rested his chin on his knuckles. He stared at Minion so
long that the ichthyoid began to get uncomfortable.
You're supposed to keep him out of trouble, Minion, he said quietly. That's the deal. I've just
about had to beg one of my best men not to turn in his resignation. I am not happy. It seems the
guards feel that Blue gets special treatment, and they are resentful.
You should use his proper name, Minion muttered.
The warden's face darkened and he let his arm fall. Why? You don't. It's all 'Sir this' and 'Sir
that.' Why don't you ever say his 'proper' name?

Minion sniffed. Wouldn't be proper, he said primly.

Parker muttered something unintelligible and slumped back into the chair. He closed his eyes and
pinched the bridge of his nose. He's going into solitary for a week,--- and even that's going easy
on him, it should be two--- after he's released from the infirmary.
I want to see him, Minion said.
Parker shook his head. In case you haven't noticed, Minion, this is your solitary confinement.
He narrowed his eyes. That's the point. No social contact.
So what does that bully get, a raise?
George Bronski will be suspended for a week. The man had to have three stitches, if that
interests you at all. When he comes back, he will be transferred to the night shift. Bailey, the one
who kicked you, is getting a week's suspension too.
Minion swam about until he faced the wall. He was actually a little surprised that the kick-happy
guard was getting disciplined as well. It was hard to get a good sulk going when the warden was
being so darn fair-minded and everything, but he managed.
The warden pressed his lips together. He had the impression he was being given the silent
treatment. He'd seen the boy as he was taken to the infirmary. He did not like the look of those
bruises. He wanted to fire Bronski outright, but there were rules and procedures to be followed.
George Bronski had not been suspended before, and there would have to be an investigation. He
sighed.
I'll keep you informed on his condition. The warden stood up with a scrape of the chair.
The phone rang and Andrew answered it. Parker stared at the wall. Finally he said Maybe, in a
couple more years, maybe we can look at some kind of work release program. He stopped and
chewed thoughtfully on his lip.
Excuse me if I don't hold my breath, warden, Minion thought. I'm not going to watch my master
grow old in this place.
Out in the hall, someone shouted in the distance. They seemed to be getting closer, judging by the
rising intensity. Both warden and assistant looked around at the door. If Minion had external ears,
he would have perked them up.
Minion! the voice called. Miiiiiiiin-yuuuuuuuuuun!
A grin spread over Minion's face. He swam excitedly around the tank, nearly slopping water over
the sides. It's him. It's him! he squeaked.

Infirmary
Chapter Summary

Megamind's transition from ward to prisoner was a gradual one. And now even his
guardian the warden has had enough of his antics.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

When life hands you lemons, squirt someone in the eye. -Cathy Guisewite
-----Megamind slowly regained consciousness in the infirmary, to some kind of horrible booming
noise. He focused and realized the noise was one of the guards loudly describing the scene in the
license plate assembly room. The man's voice pounded his head with every syllable.
---practically runs right into Bronski, so he decks 'im, POW. Megamind flinched. It felt like his
face was in a vise.
He's awake, Doc, the guard shouted cheerfully. Megamind wished the man would shut up.
The doctor came to his bedside and gently pried open one of Megamind's eyes, shining a penlight
into it. The other eye was swollen shut.
How many fingers do you see, son? he asked quietly, holding up two fingers. Megamind was
too demoralized to even make a joke. Two, he mumbled.
Should be seeing quadruple the way Bronski clobbered you, boomed the overly cheerful guard.
Are you president of the Bronski brown-noser club, seriously, that's the sixth time you've said his
name since we got here, Megamind shot back.
There was a short, heavy silence.
Did I say that out loud? Megamind wondered. The guard, Iverson, narrowed his eyes. I guess I
did, he thought miserably.
Where's Minion? Why isn't he here? Anxiety made his voice tight and strained. Iverson snorted.
Megamind willed himself not to look at him. He remembered, vividly, the sight of Minion tasered,
the robotic suit crashing, and Minion spilling helplessly out of his containment unit onto the floor.
And that guard, Bailey, kicking the little ichthyoid into the table leg.
He's in the aquarium, son, the doctor said, glancing at him. I'm sure he's fine.
How do you know? Megamind asked. Did you see him? He probably needs a doctor.
Dr. Curtis sighed. No, I didn't see him.
Then how do you know? Megamind couldn't keep the shrillness out of his voice. Can't you

call the warden and ask?

Iverson snapped, Geez, don't blow a gasket. He was swimming around in that bucket all right
when I saw him. No one was rushing to the phone. This seemed to be as much reassurance as he
was going to get.
The doctor gave Megamind an ice pack, and he carefully placed it over his face with his left hand.
The doctor asked if he felt up to trying to walk. Megamind nodded. He managed to take a few
shaky steps with the help of an orderly. He glanced up and saw Iverson smirking at him.
Megamind straightened up and shoved away the orderly's arm.
I can walk, he said stiffly. I'm ready to go back now.
Dr. Curtis frowned a little but only said, Well, you don't have a concussion. Suit yourself. I'm
going to give you something for the pain. Sit down. Megamind flopped down on the bed again.
Can I have a mirror? he asked. Dr. Curtis handed one over. Megamind gazed blearily at his
features. A great reddish-purple bruise spread across the lower half of his high forehead. His left
eye was completely swollen shut and another bruise and a cut marred his left cheekbone.
Compulsively he examined his jawline but it was as smooth as ever. Rats. Still no beard.
Roll up your sleeve, son. Megamind looked up to see Dr. Curtis busying himself with a little
bottle and a syringe. He gulped at the sight of the needle. Iverson snickered at this reaction and
nudged Smith, the other guard. The doctor looked up sharply. You men may wait out there, he
said testily. Iverson scowled, but they turned to go out to the waiting room. Megamind stuck his
tongue out at their departing backs. Iverson turned at the last second and caught him in the act.
Megamind could almost hear the man mentally filing this latest insult away for perusal. He sighed.
It was going to be a long walk back to the cell block.
Try to relax your arm, son, it'll hurt less, said Dr. Curtis. Megamind squinched his eyes shut
until it was over.
Dr. Curtis walked Megamind to the waiting room. Megamind's stomach clenched in dread at the
thought of the hostile guards waiting to walk him back to his cell. He almost asked if he could stay
in the infirmary overnight but he needed to see Minion for himself.
The doctor was writing on a form. I'll send a memo to your work supervisor excusing you from
any duties for the next five days, Blue. You'll need to take a long rest...is that really necessary?
he asked Iverson who was cuffing Megamind's hands behind his back.
Absolutely, doc, Iverson drawled. Don't bother with that memo. This one's headed for
solitary.
Dr. Curtis blinked. Megamind felt as if the air had solidified in his lungs. The hole. He'd never
been sent there before. Dismay must have shown on his face, because Iverson smirked and said
Don't cry, kid, it's only for a week.
I see, said the doctor. He patted Megamind on the shoulder. Take care, son.
----They were hustling him along at a pretty good clip. Megamind dazedly tried not to trip. The
painkiller sloshed gently through his veins. Iverson kept jabbing him in the back at unexpected
moments and he stumbled sometimes. Once after a rough jostle, Megamind lost his grip on the ice
pack and it fell through his fingers.
Hey---he said, half-turning, but Iverson spun him around and forced him to keep walking. His

partner began to bend over to pick it up, but Iverson snapped, Come on! I should have clocked
out of here half an hour ago. The ice pack stayed where it had landed. The sheer unfairness of it
all made Megamind's eyes sting and the breath catch in his throat. He gritted his teeth and
concentrated on keeping his chin up. Any sign of weakness would bring nothing but ridicule.
The prison was doing a bang-up job hiring heartless sadistic goons these last few years.
The guards and prisoners that once looked after him, that had raised him, were drifting away.
Some guards left for other employment, or retired, except for Al Kopecki who apparently had
opted for an early death. He had a stroke right there in the guards' break room and died on the way
to the hospital, the prison infirmary not being up to snuff. Some of his prison uncles were
transferred, or were released on parole (though a number of these parolees showed up again for
another round of hard time). Or died like old Al, though generally in rather more violent ways.
There were plenty of newcomers who seemed to see it as their duty to push him around. He was
getting into more fights as he tried to keep from sliding right to the bottom of the heap. Minion
was a great help, there.
It wasn't always possible for Minion to help, though. Like last month, when the ball and socket
joint in the robot suit's left hip got a serious crack in it. Megamind stored it away in the mechanic's
bay until he could get it replaced and carried Minion around in his containment bowl like he
always used to do. That same day Justin Henkler tried to noogie him. He fought Justin off, but
there must have been a bet going, because Freddy, another meat-head, tried to noogie him at the
lunch hour. It turned into a shoving match, with Minion rolling around on the floor trying to trip
Freddy up. It quickly became a ruckus, or possibly a fracas, and finally Megamind had no choice
but to dump a food tray over Freddy's head.
The food fight engulfed half the cafeteria.
The guards didn't find out for sure who was responsible, or Megamind might have found out a lot
sooner what solitary confinement was like, but they made an educated guess, and spread the
blame around. After everybody was hosed off, the whole cell block was pressed into service on
the clean-up crew, guilty and innocent alike.
Once sort of a mascot and all-round ward, Megamind was now looked on more and more as a
nuisance, shunted off onto whatever work crew would have him. He wasn't so welcome anymore,
like a puppy that had the audacity to grow up.
The hole. Whose idea was that? There was nothing to do in there. Every detail in the hallway,
every light fixture and doorway stood out in sharp relief, as if his mind were frantically sucking in
as many images as possible before it was banished to the darkness. A whole week. He'd go crazy.
There was a pain somewhere above his stomach that produced curious sensations, as if his body
couldn't decide if it should collapse or float away. Becoming violently ill seemed another possible
option.
The hallway shifted. He shifted too. He rebounded gently off Smith and veered sideways, like a
marble obeying the laws of Brownian motion, and almost tripped over the other guard's feet.
Iverson cursed and yanked him back onto a more or less straight trajectory.
He needed to see Minion. He had to know if he was all right. He sure wasn't going to ask
permission, though. These bozos would undoubtedly take great delight in denying his request. No
doubt it would inspire Iverson to new heights of obnoxiousness.
They were quite near the administrative offices, just two hallways down. He swallowed the lump
in his throat, took a deep breath and bellowed Minion! Minion can you hear me!

Shut up, Iverson snapped, and tried to hurry him along. Megamind lunged against their
restraining hands and nearly broke loose. He succeeded in dragging himself a bit closer to the
adjoining hallway.
Minion! he shouted. Miiiin-yuuuuuuuun! he shouted again, and strained, listening.
He shouted again and again.
Shut up! Iverson said again, but his voice had an anxious pitch to it. Doors were opening and
curious personnel were poking their heads out. Normally a quick punch to the kidneys was
Iverson's usual response to this sort of resistance, but he didn't quite dare, not here. There were an
inconvenient number of witnesses. And the alien kid was barely half his size. Definitely wouldn't
look good.
Minion's voice drifted out into the air. Sir, I'm here, Sir! I'm here!
You all right? You okay? Megamind shouted. His voice echoed.
I'm okay! Are you okay Sir?
Never better, Minion, Megamind shouted as they leaned on him and pushed him past. Don't
you worry Minion! I'll get you out of there. I'll get you ooooouuuuuuut!
Come on, pick him up, Smith said anxiously. They grabbed his elbows and lifted. It hardly
needed both of them. Either of them could almost have picked him up and stuck him under an
arm. His feet kicked at the air for a second.
Success! Now he knew for sure that Minion was alive. But he wasn't going to meekly walk off
into that solitary confinement cell without at least a little token resistance. At the stairs he braced
his feet against the railing.
Iverson was trying to kick his foot loose without actually looking like he was kicking, when the
warden spoke.
What's going on here, gentlemen?
Like scuffling children caught in the act they all turned around at once. Megamind landed on the
floor again.
Bringing the prisoner to solitary, sir, Iverson said, jerking his shoulders back with military
precision. Megamind rolled his good eye.
Would it be possible to do it a little more quietly? Parker asked.
They tried to push me down the stairs, Megamind piped up.
Parker looked sharply at the dumbstruck guards. Iverson's mouth opened and shut like a landed
fish.
We did not! he finally blustered, voice rising indignantly. We weren't---I wouldn't---
They threatened to beat me up! They took away my ice pack, Megamind said, almost delirious
with glee. There was a murmur of disapproval from the gathered personnel. One of the social
workers pushed her glasses firmly up her nose and scowled at the guards.
Parker tried very hard not to sigh. Nobody could create a scene like Megamind. There was hardly

any situation he couldn't make worse.

Everyone get back to work, the warden ordered. Now! I will handle this. Go on. Gradually
the audience dispersed. Parker walked close to the boy, forcing him to look up. He frowned at the
cuffs; those hardly seemed necessary but he wasn't going to reprimand the guards in front of the
boy. Not now. His bruises looked even worse under the harsh lighting of the hallway. Megamind
stuck out his chin and tilted his head for maximum insolence.
Maybe the chief of security was right. He was too easy on the boy, because he'd been forced to
grow up in this place. Normally such a thought would have swamped Parker with guilt. This time
he squelched it.
You have to stop this, the warden said.
Stop what? Megamind asked, shrugging. Breathing? You'll have to be more specific.
The fighting ends now. Every scuffle will result in a longer stretch in solitary each time. Minion
may be in that tank for good. Got it?
Megamind's smirk faded.
It wasn't my fault. Henkler start---
I don't care who started it. The fighting ends, the warden repeated. You want Minion to spend
the rest of his life in the aquarium?
There was no sound except for Megamind's breathing. But he didn't speak. After a moment the
warden nodded to the guards.
Take him away.
They saluted and escorted Megamind down the stairs.
---Parker did not feel any sense of victory whatsoever. After reading the same document for the third
time he gave up. It was almost the end of the day anyway. He was careful not to look at the
aquarium on the way out.
He would not tell his wife about today. The doctor had warned that Joyce mustn't hear anything
that might upset her.

Chapter End Notes

As this story and my own writing skills have evolved, I have come to see the warden
more as a concerned father rather than a reluctant guardian. Parker becomes a little
more compassionate towards young Megamind in later chapters...but I think his
reaction to Megamind's behavior is not so different from that of a frustrated parent
trying to control a rebellious teen. So I think the scene still works. It's just that Parker
has guards and cells to enforce his will, unlike most parents!

Solitary Plans
Chapter Summary

Sentenced to solitary confinement for the first time, Megamind comes to a decision.

Chapter 3

Too soon, Megamind and his escort were at the final flight of stairs. The walls were a dull gray, to
ramp up as much despair as possible in the inmates. The florescent lights, rather than lighting the
way, mainly made the shadows gloomier.
They approached the solitary cell block. The door guard gave Megamind a quizzical look.
So what's he doing here?
Parker's fed up, Iverson said smugly. Guess he ain't the warden's pet anymore.
You catch the game on Sunday? Smith asked the door guard.
Naw, the man said. I worked a double shift.
Didn't miss much. The Lions played like crap.
Megamind was brought to the solitary confinement cell. The door was unlocked, the cuffs were
removed, and Megamind was shoved in with, he thought, rather unnecessary force, but nobody
asked his opinion.
They oughta fire that quarterback.
It's the offense. Quarterback can't do anything if they don't protect him.
The door slammed shut. The voices and footsteps of the guards faded. Megamind almost felt hurt.
That's it? Not even a So long, maggot? Shoved in the cell almost as an afterthought. It was
depressing. His eyes adjusted to the dim light creeping in under the door. There was little enough
to see. Four walls, a floor mat with no blanket or pillow, and a toilet in the corner that gently
perfumed the air. He stood stiffly in the middle of the room, rubbing his sore wrists, and then he
went over to the mat and sat down. He wrapped his arms around his knees and hid his face in his
arms. Gradually he stopped shaking and his breathing steadied. He rubbed his uninjured eye with
his wrist and wiped his nose on his sleeve. For a moment, he was glad that Minion couldn't see
him like this. Then he wished he were back in their cell, with a notebook open on his lap, pen
busy, the two of them grousing about the nitwits they had to deal with all day. His stomach hurt a
little less, to make room for the headache.
His rapid metabolism was burning through the painkiller already. Or maybe a lot more time had
passed than he realized. Wasn't it time for supper yet? He wasn't hungry but it would provide a
distraction.

It took a village to raise a child. In Megamind's case, it was done by various able-bodied prisoners
and guards, the warden, and a committee. The warden and his wife were, technically, his legal
guardians. Megamind supposed someone had to be; perhaps the burden had landed on the Parkers
by default. The committee occasionally came around to interview him and keep tabs on his
'progress,' which was code for just checking to see if you've blown anything up lately.
You want Minion to spend the rest of his life in the aquarium?
That was bad enough. But it didn't sound like Parker was only talking about Minion. Megamind
groaned and hugged his knees harder.
They would never let them out. Occasionally, there were mutterings about further education, or
finding him some sort of outside work program, but nothing ever came of it. Or if they ever did let
him out, it would be on a leash. They'd probably keep Minion for insurance. Behave yourself, or
your little fishy friend gets it.
--------He remembered that last disastrous day at school, when he was six, after he triumphantly set off
the paint bomb and got sent home for good. Certain that he had finally unlocked the secret of his
destiny, he announced to the other prisoners that, when he grew up, he would be the baddest of
all.
This did not produce the smiles and affirmations he imagined. Instead, they scolded him, told him
he screwed up, that school was an opportunity he'd thrown away.
Old Joe was especially perturbed, almost hysterical. Megamind still remembered Joe warning him
about the Feds, and how they were always watching, how he had to keep a low profile and not act
up all the time, or else they would come and take him away. It had scared him straight.
The Feds were a very effective team of bogeymen. He hardly dared even think of life on the
outside. For years.
--------Megamind was suddenly furious at himself. The Feds, the Feds! Keep your head down kid, or the
Feds are gonna come and get ya! In a surge of energy he launched himself to his feet and paced
back and forth.
He was so gullible. It was just one of those lies grown-ups made up to keep children from
misbehaving. Even if Joe had really believed it, it didn't make it any less a lie. None of his other
prison uncles ever took him aside and told him that Joe was nuts. No suspicious men in dark
glasses ever came around asking about him, or tried to get him transferred to some suspicious
facility. Ever.
He should have thought it through. Or researched it. There were ways of finding things out. He'd
been so gullible. Long after fear of 'the Feds' faded, he'd been left with a nagging fear of life on
the outside, a vague feeling that people were out to get him.
He had it right the first time. If nothing else, it couldn't possibly be his destiny to waste his life
away in prison, matching wits with lunkheads, waiting to see if the authorities would let him out.
Well, he didn't need to wait for them to let him out. He could leave. He could take Minion and go.
He stopped in the middle of the floor. He could leave. The thought terrified him almost as much as
the thought of never leaving at all, but it was invigorating. He began pacing again, almost

maniacally, breathing hard.

I can do it. I know I can. With Minion I can do anything.
However.
If there was one thing his brief time at school had shown him, it was that he and Minion stood out
like a couple of aliens who were the last survivors of their planet stuck in a world of over-grown,
barely civilized savages. Like a couple of very sore thumbs indeed.
If they broke out, no, when they broke out, there would be someone after them for sure. Many
someones. Heavily armed lawmen, to be exact.
He would have to outsmart them. He could probably do it with his brain tied behind his back.
Then there was the little matter of Wayne Scott. Wayne was an alien too, but he looked human. At
least he fit Earth's idea of what a normal human looked like, if normal included a boy who looked
like a 25 year old weightlifter and was already taller than most everyone in the entire Midwest.
What set Wayne apart was his super powers. Super strength, super speed, the power of flight, and
invulnerability. A year older than Megamind, he was already making a name for himself out in the
city as a crimefighter and hunter of fugitives. Several men were in prison right now, thanks to him.
Wayne couldn't really be totally invulnerable, could he? Everyone had weaknesses. He knew
something about Wayne's powers, from TV interviews and newspaper articles, and from personal
experience from their brief shool days. Well, he would outsmart him, too.
He smiled. Now that he'd put his mind to it, all sorts of possibilities were presenting themselves.
Finally tired again, he sat down on the mat.
I shall liberate my old dehydrator gun. The warden had confiscated it when he learned of its
existence, shortly after he was kicked out of school. In truth, he'd been glad to hand it over. At the
time he was ready to do anything asked of him if it meant he could keep under the Feds' radar.
Having the dehydrator gun was asking for trouble, the warden said. At the time Megamind
thought that the warden was making a vague reference to the men in black, but now he knew the
warden probably was worried that some prisoner would take it and use it to escape. Megamind
smiled. Some prisoner sure would use it for escape now.
He would employ a bit of strategy. When he got out of this hole, he'd be the epit-tohm of meek.
There was plenty of time to think, to plan. There wasn't anything else to do. And perhaps there
would be time for a spot of rev-ahnge, before they left.
--------Megamind was released from solitary the day after Christmas. He was a model prisoner. He
continued to display the slightly evil smirk guaranteed to mock and annoy everyone within range
(total meekness, he felt, would have excited comment), but he did what he was told and stopped
needling people. They let Minion have his robot suit back. Walter Schmidt, the head of security,
advised against it, but Minion was always so useful when things needed to be unloaded or stacked
up; reluctantly he agreed, with the understanding that the threat of being banished to the tank for
good might be enough to keep both Minion and his ward in line.
---------One afternoon Justin Henkler dropped a heavy box of laundry detergent on his foot and hopped
around wailing. Miraculously, Megamind failed to utter any sort of comment whatsoever. He
glanced up, then went back to folding sheets.

Sid nudged Lenny. You see that? You see that? he said.
Lenny sighed irritably. See what? Nothing happened, he said.
That's what I mean! Blue didn't say nothin'. You think Bronski knocked some sense into him or
somethin'?
Lenny stared at the alien kid thoughtfully. Megamind was stacking the folded sheets. Now that
Sid mentioned it, he was awful quiet lately.
Dunno, he said. Maybe he's coming down with something.
New Year's Eve came and went.
The only excitement occurred when several small personal items went missing from some of the
cells. There were a lot of complaints from angry prisoners. That sort of petty theft could cause
massive unrest, so the guards conducted a search. Everyone was surprised when the stolen items
were discovered behind Justin Henkler's cot. Especially Justin Henkler.
Life became very exciting for Justin. So exciting, in fact, that the guards were forced to place him
in solitary for a time, until the resentment against him tapered off.
They escorted Justin past Megamind and Minion's cell, giving them a good view of Justin's
newly-blackened eye. His mouse-brown hair was even more frazzled than usual.
Hi, Minion said. Justin glanced up.
Megamind leaned against the bars, examining his nails and smiling a little. He shook his head
slowly. Justin glared at him.
Whatever were you thinking, Megamind said. He stepped back, laughing, when Justin kicked at
the bars, setting off a tremendous clang.
Don't you know stealing is wrong? Megamind said, chuckling.
You little cockroach! I'm gonna squash you! Justin screamed as the guards hauled him away.
Have a nice vacation, Megamind called.
-----No one noticed the old microwave in the salvage bay had been gutted. No one noticed that a car
that had been brought in for spare parts in the mechanic shop had lost its computer chips, shock
absorbers and most of its wiring. They figured the parts had been stripped before it was donated.
And when one of the ancient computers in the prison library stopped working one day, the
librarian didn't bother trying to get it repaired. He hated all this new-fangled technology anyway.
The old index cards had worked just fine for him.

The Great Escape

Chapter Summary

Megamind makes his move.

Whenever I have to choose between two evils, I always like to try the one I haven't tried
before. -Mae West

Chapter 4

Bailey was so insulted at being suspended just for kicking a damn fish that he quit. George
Bronski didn't blame him, but wasn't about to do anything that would further jeopardize his own
job. His employment record was rather spotty, and he was determined not to get fired for once.
He worked the night shift now. The chief security officer, Walter Schmidt, basically told him it
was the night shift or nothing.It's better if you have a little less direct contact with the prisoners,
he said, narrowing his eyes at him. Bronski knew what the man meant. It was typical. They didn't
appreciate his efforts to keep order. That freak kid needed to be taught a lesson. The twerp acted
like he owned the place and looked down his nose at everybody. They even let him have a
servant, like he was royalty.
Even now the freak acted uppity. One morning he was clocked out and heading home when he
spotted Megamind in the work crew headed for the laundry, and the kid actually smirked at him.
He might've even winked! Bronski bristled and barely restrained himself from going to have a
private word with that smart-aleck. But he knew he was on thin ice as it was. Another suspension
might get him fired.
There was no trace of any bruise left on that blue face. He heard that the freak healed fast but
hadn't believed it.
-----His co-worker Robinson was snoring in his chair at the desk. The door to the guard room creaked
open an inch and he started up out of his snooze guiltily. Bronski glanced up, then went back to
the paper.
Robinson rubbed his eyes, said Hey, what are you-- there was a brilliant flash of light and
Robinson was covered with a crackling light blue sheen. He seemed to fall in on himself, as if he
were being sucked into a hole, and then he was gone. A small glowing cube fell to the floor.
Bronski's mouth slowly fell open and stayed there. He stood up, staring stupidly at the cube, and
finally turned to the door as it was thrown fully open. He stared in disbelief at the weirdly glowing
gun, held in a slender blue hand at the end of an orange-clad arm. The freak was standing in the
doorway, smiling an evil smile. Minion filled the space behind him.
Megamind pretended to do a double take. Why look, Minion. It's Mr. Bronski! he exclaimed.

Well, how 'bout that, Minion said, smiling like a shark.

Bronski gripped the edge of the counter at the bank of monitors. Y-You killed him, you frea-
Megamind strode into the room and aimed the gun at Bronski's head.
What was that? he said sharply.
Bronski nearly climbed backwards over the counter.
I-I mean---mean--Megamind... he said, wheezing. The gun wavered and shook a little. Too
much for Bronski's comfort level. Bronski really, really hoped Megamind's trigger finger didn't
slip.
That wasn't so hard now, was it? Megamind said cheerfully. Now don't you worry about your
buddy there, George. Mind if I call you George? He'll be right as rain as soon as---well, as soon as
a little rain falls on him.
Minion chuckled, in the approved manner of aspiring henchmen everywhere. One of his hands
shot across the room, impossibly elongated, and took the gun from Bronski's holster. Bronski
stared in amazement as the arm reeled back in, with a whirring noise like a fishing line. That was a
new trick. Still smiling, Minion broke the gun in half.
Bronski didn't believe Megamind for a second. You killed him. You vaporized him, he said
hoarsely.
Megamind frowned. No no no, I dehydrated him. You know, de-hy-drate? If vaporization had
occurred, there would have been, you know, vapors. He tilted his head a bit, considering his
audience. That's another word for steam, George. He's not dead. He is merely taking a little rest.
He can be reconstituted---that means 'changed back', by the way,--- by the application of some
liquid, preferably water. He shrugged and stepped closer. Anyway, I just stopped by to say
good-bye, thanks for the memories, that sort of thing, and I wanted to give you the chance to get a
look at how well I'm doing.
The gun barrel was pointing upward directly under Bronski's chin now. Bronski was standing on
his toes. Megamind smiled broadly, tilting his face from side to side, waggling his eyebrows.
Bronski stared at him wide-eyed.
See? I'm all healed up. No scars or anything. Got the key card, Minion? Megamind said.
Got it, sir.
Megamind stepped back a bit and Bronski settled fully on his feet again.
Don't you feel better now? I know I do. Time to say good ni--
Bronski shrieked Don't kill me!
Megamind grimaced and covered one of his ears with his free hand. Could you scream louder? I
can still hear a little out of this ear. Buck up! Take it like a man. He pulled the trigger, there was a
brilliant flash of blue-white, and a lingering cry of NOOOOOoooo... Another cube dropped to
the floor.
Oh, that was wicked, sir, Minion chuckled. I thought he was going to wet himself.
Megamind grinned and blew smoke away from the gun barrel. His hands were shaking with

nervous excitement. They'd taken out five guards. Pulling the trigger on the first one had been
extraordinarily difficult, even though he knew it wouldn't harm him. Once he fired, he knew there
was no going back. What else could they do? Reconstitute the guard and say We were thinking
of leaving, but we changed our minds. Mind letting us go back to our cell and pretending this
never happened? There was only one way forward. He and Minion were Getting Out.
Escaping the cell was the work of a moment.The checkpoint doors were a bit trickier. He wasn't
sure his key-o-matic would disable them. The outer doors were on a separate computer system
than the cells, but he hadn't wanted to waste time constructing another key-o-matic. It was a
simple enough problem to solve. He just took the guards' security cards before dehydrating them.
It was a shame they couldn't say a proper farewell to everyone that deserved it. But really, it was
for the best. Otherwise they'd be stuck here for another decade, launching vendettas.
All right, Minion, now for the post-it notes. It was only fair to leave the guards a clue.
-----John Parker woke up abruptly at the sound of the phone ringing. He squinted at the digital clock.
It was 5:01 am. Joyce was due to come home from the hospital tomorrow...no, today. It couldn't
be the hospital, could it? He hoped it wasn't serious news.
Who am I kidding? he thought. At this time of day it's always bad news. It better not be Danny
asking for money.
He groped his way across the bedroom and out into the hall. He found the light switch and picked
up the receiver.
Hello.
For a moment there was silence, then a voice said Mr. Parker? Whoever it was sounded
unacceptably gleeful for this hour of the morning, Parker felt.
Yes.
Mr...John...Parker? There was some giggling in the background.
Yes, he repeated, annoyed. He could tell this was some prank but he didn't slam the phone
down right away. The voice was muffled, yet there was something familiar about it.
The little bluebird says, better check your cages. A couple of pidge-ee-yons have flown the coop!
Ha ha ha ha aha aha ha! Parker winced and jerked his head away from the phone. The line went
dead.
Well, that didn't sound suspicious at all, he thought, grimacing. He hung up, rummaged around in
the end table's drawer for the list of emergency numbers, and was reaching for the phone to call
the night watch at the prison when the phone rang again. He snatched it up on the first ring.
Parker here, what is it? he asked tersely.
The man on the other end of the line was somewhat taken aback at the warden's abruptness, as he
hadn't expected Mr. Parker to be hovering over the phone at this early hour, but he rallied.
Sorry to wake you, sir, but there's been a break-out. Megamind and Minion.
All right, Parker said, rubbing a hand down his face. I'll get dressed and come over as soon as I

can. Little bluebird indeed.

There's more, sir, the guard said. Five guards are missing, too.
-----When Parker drove his car through the prison gates it was still dark. He parked the car and went
into the building. As he passed the first checkpoint he could hear the muted roar of the inmate
population. All it took was one insomniac to notice the guards bustling around, one bored
troublemaker to wake every other prisoner and alert them to the thrilling fact that two of their
number had escaped. They'd have to keep the entire facility in lock-down for a day or two, and
then the guards would have to deal with outbreaks of insubordination for some time.
Roberts, the head of the night watch, greeted him and fell in step as the warden walked swiftly
along the hallway.
Is Schmidt here yet?
He called and said he's on his way now. Couldn't get his car started.
Parker nodded. The security chief's car was famous for its remarkable ability to break down just
when it was most needed.
How long has it been since the prisoners were last seen?
They were present at the one a.m. head count, sir. We think maybe it's been three hours since
they skedaddled. You were informed about our missing men?
Parker nodded. There isn't any sign of them at all? he asked. Could they have been taken
hostage?
Roberts shook his head. I don't see how. Nearly impossible to carry off five grown men without
some kind of ruckus, even for Minion, I should think.
They entered one of the inner hallways. The sound of men shouting and arguing grew louder. He
came upon a group of guards, all of them yelling at once.
Where are they, then?
---found these little cubes, what do you suppose it means?
Of course they're not bombs, stupid! There aren't any timers.
We already looked everywhere.
They gotta be here, some closet somewhere!
They hadn't noticed the warden yet, the noise level was so loud.
One of the guards, McClosky, came around the corner of a connecting hallway. He was holding a
pile of glowing cubes in his arms, and a pitcher in one hand.
Stand back, he said excitedly. I've got the water!
As soon as the warden saw the cubes he knew what happened. He could see a post-it note was
stuck to one of them. Parker couldn't read it at this distance but he guessed what it said: Just add
water. Followed by a smiley face. He looked around. Most of the men present were newer
employees; none of them knew about the dehydration gun.

employees; none of them knew about the dehydration gun.

McClosky put the cubes on the floor and took a few steps back with a determined look on his
face. There was a controlled stampede as everybody took refuge around the corners, even the man
who'd been so sure they weren't bombs.
Gentlemen, Parker said weakly, in the tones of one who knows he's up against the inevitable,
there's really no cause for---
Oh, warden! Just stay back, sir. We'll handle this, one of the guards said gallantly. Parker sighed
and clasped his hands behind his back as everybody else crouched and peered around the corner
of the hall. McClosky braced himself, flung the water at the cubes and ran for it. There were
flashes of light, and five disheveled and bewildered guards appeared where the cubes had been.
Simpson reappeared standing on his head. His limbs flailed wildly for a second, before he crashed
against another dazed man and they both landed in a heap. Bronski was still screaming his head
off, but then stopped and looked around in confusion. Everybody began talking at once, as the
guards helped their dazed comrades to their feet.
That's some trick.
You okay? Are they okay?
Let go! I'm not hurt.
He had...the freak had a ray gun. The newly-reconstituted guard caught sight of Parker and said,
I mean...Megamind had a ray gun.
Parker overlooked the use of that unsavory nickname for the time being. The poor man had just
been changed back from a cube, after all.
It's called a dehydration gun, Parker told them.He invented it when he was about six. I've been
keeping it in my office safe. He can dehydrate stuff with it, people too. I'm not sure what the limit
on it is, but whatever or whoever he shoots gets compacted into a cube, and gets turned back
when water is added.
He hesitated. They were all staring at him as if he'd grown a second head. He turned his attention
to the immediate matters at hand. The guards looked all right, if rather damp, but maybe they
should be examined by a doctor, just in case.
------After the debriefing, Parker tromped wearily up to his office with Schmidt, who had arrived in a
cab.
Why'd they have to pick now to escape? the security chief said, shaking his head. January.
Plenty of vicious weather ahead. Dumb kids.
Parker stopped on the stairs. Kids, he said, giving Schmidt a puzzled frown.
Schmidt looked back. Yeah. They came here at the same time, right? That Minion didn't talk at
all for two years. He probably learned to speak the same time as the boy.
It annoyed Parker that Schmidt should have been the one to make this thoughtful observation.
Half the time Schmidt acted like matters would be significantly improved if Megamind were
simply dropped into a pit and sealed in.
That old familiar pang of guilt squeezed Parker's chest. For the first time he wondered how old

Minion was. Was he really dealing with two teenagers here? He thought he did a good job treating
Minion decently, like he was a person instead of an animal, but now he wondered. He'd taken
Minion for granted, like everybody did. Minion always took on the role of caretaker so readily,
been little more than Megamind's shadow for a long time. That began to change as his robotic
suits grew bigger and he wasn't so easily overlooked, but it was still easy to disregard him out of
habit. Did his kind mature faster? Parker would have to satisfy his curiosity later, when the
fugitives were apprehended.
Parker wondered if he should ask the police to check the homeless shelters, then shook his head.
He sincerely doubted that they would try taking refuge there. They couldn't possibly blend in. He
supposed Megamind could manage it, barely, if he completely covered himself, but there was no
way Minion could disguise himself. He creaked when he moved. Sometimes he even rattled.
Make sure the police know they are runaways, Walt. Runaways, not escaped convicts. I don't
want to get them back full of bullet holes.
Schmidt nodded carefully. I'll try to convince them, John, but if he's got that gun, it might make it
more difficult. And you know what they'll have to do to survive.
Parker sighed. Stealing. Breaking and entering. The legality of holding them in prison, when
neither had been convicted of anything, had always hung over his head, boulder-like. Legal issues
probably would not be much of a problem now.
Parker's assistant was opening and slamming cupboard doors. He whirled around as Parker and
Schmidt walked in.
Warden, he cried. He replaced all the cups.
Parker said, Andrew, it has already been a long morning. Please do not make me guess. Who did
what now?
It was Megamind, I know it! He got in here and took all the plates and coffee cups out of my
cupboard and left these---these tea sets behind. What are we going to do for coffee breaks?
Maybe a little less coffee would be a good change for you, Parker thought as he walked over to
the cupboard. Andrew sometimes got all worked up about---he stopped, and stared into the
cupboard in confusion. On the shelves were a few little stacks of plates and cups, looking like
they'd come from a doll's house. Carefully he reached out, picked up one of the plates, and
examined it.
These aren't tea sets, he said. These ARE our plates. They've been shrunk.
Schmidt gave a snort of laughter and shook his head ruefully.
Shrunk?! Andrew was outraged. That's ridiculous! He threw his hands up in the air.
Then Parker saw it, his own cup that his wife had given him, turned into a perfect miniature. The
words World's Best Warden were just visible. Parker felt a vein begin to throb in his forehead.

Meeting the Public

Chapter Notes

At the time this story takes place, digital cameras and cell phones were just beginning
to have an impact on consumer culture.

Police have released sketches of the aliens that escaped from the Metro City Prison for the
Criminally Gifted, as no current photographs exist, the anchorwoman on the TV said.
Gordon paused in the living room, his toothbrush in hand and mouth full of toothpaste. The
picture on the TV showed a sketch of a young man who looked like a stereotypical big-headed
Martian from an old sci-fi film.
John Doe, aka Megamind, is fifteen years old. He is about five feet three inches tall, has blue
skin... Gordon could almost hear her put the word in italics, ...and has green eyes.
Gordon started to brush his teeth again as he walked back to the bathroom. Shouldn't think she'd
have to say his eye color, Gordon thought with some amusement. The guy's blue, fer cryin' out
loud. As he rinsed and spat, he could hear them saying something about a robot, but he couldn't
really hear over the sound of the water running. By the time he emerged, the morning news team
had moved on the next item. There was a camping and fishing expo at the civic center this
weekend.
Well, Stacy, looks like they're getting geared up for the big camping exhibition down there.
That's right, Gary! I'm here live at the Metro City Civic Center with...
Gordon turned off the television. He locked the apartment and took the stairs instead of the
elevator.
The sky was still dark. Gordon had gotten up extra early on this chilly winter's day so he could get
in a full three mile run before work. He was quite proud that he'd been able to keep up with his
New Year's resolution. He jogged in place for a moment, then did some quick stretches. He begun
his run slowly.
He would run through the downtown area first, he decided, then maybe over the bridge and
through the park. He thought about that newscast. He heard rumors there was an alien kept in the
prison but it wasn't something he thought about too much. It was probably all nonsense, like all
that stuff about that Wayne Scott kid. Gordon had seen news footage of Wayne Scott flying
around, lifting trucks over his head with one hand. He was just waiting for the day when it was all
exposed as a hoax.
He rounded the corner at Sixth Avenue. As he was jogging past Mercer's Grocery he heard a
squeal of tires. He looked over his shoulder. A Ford Taurus had barely made the turn. Alarmed,
Gordon backed up against the store as the car roared down the street. As it passed the store it
leaped the curb, sailed into the air, and impaled itself on top of a fire hydrant.
Heart pounding, Gordon ran up to the driver's door and pulled it open.

Hey, man, are you all...GAH! Gordon backed up so fast he tripped and fell. He stared, mouth
open and eyes wide, as the blue alien lurched unsteadily out from behind the steering wheel.
Perfectly all right, the blue boy said hoarsely, staggering a bit. That was a little better, I'd say.
What do you think, Minion?
Bordon drew in his breath sharply as the passenger door opened and some THING clambered out.
At first he thought the strange man was wearing a silver helmet, but then he realized it was a
fishbowl with a ...catfish? On top of a robot body. The thing blinked at him. Ice water poured
through Gordon's limbs.
The blue man said, I think there's something wrong with the gas pedal, like the last... Gordon
screamed. The scream came out of some ancient, primal place that had no room for logic or
reason. The alien flinched back against the car and screamed. Even the thing in the bowl
screamed. Gordon scrabbled backward, crab-like, then finally found his feet and ran.
Megamind, gasping, held a hand clasped to his chest, and watched the man flee.
Geez, Megamind said weakly. What's the matter with him?
I dunno, Minion said a touch irritably. These driving lessons were taking a toll on his nerves.
And they'd gone through four cars and he still hadn't gotten a chance to drive. Maybe watching a
car get all smashed up right in front of him got him all upset. Sir.
Yes, I suppose so. Rather long delayed reaction, though. Megamind paused for further thought.
Seemed more like he was scared of us.
Minion sighed and looked around. There were some lights in the surrounding windows. A few
more flicked on. Probably the noise from the crash woke people up.
Megamind noticed the lights coming on too. How far would you say it is back to the hideout?
Their current hideout was a large shed on the back lot of a gardening center, closed for the winter.
It was secluded and well-hidden, and had the added benefits of being dark, dirty, and freezing.
About twenty blocks.
Megamind kicked petulantly at one of the tires. Driving shouldn't be so difficult. He'd seen
enough movies and TV shows to know how it was done, and Scunner taught him that all you
needed was a screwdriver and a cordless drill to get most vehicles started. The hot-wiring lessons
were done on the sly; many of the prisoners disapproved of such a young kid learning the tricks of
the trade. Starting a car turned out to be entirely different from actually moving it down the street.
A cab drove past. Megamind scowled as the cab drew level, and then the cab went on its way at a
rather faster pace. Megamind narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
Sir, it's getting late.
Megamind glanced at him, then turned to look after the cab again, disappearing around the corner.
Very well, Minion. Time to retire. A Chevy Impala was parked nearby. Megamind pulled out
the tools. Then, because time was pressing, Minion smashed the Chevy's window and Megamind
got to work.
------One of the many things Megamind learned over the course of their first days of freedom was that
walking sucked. The driving attempts tended to draw a lot of unwanted attention. After a crash

they ended up on foot again anyway. Sometimes they were forced to flee the scene before they
could steal another vehicle. The blocks and the miles stretched out before them and ate up their
precious time. Despite the long winter nights, it seemed like they never had time for anything fun.
They were always searching for food and shelter, and for safe places to clean up. More like they
were scavengers, instead of steely-eyed fugitives from justice.
And it was freezing. Megamind couldn't remember being so cold in all his life. Back at home, no,
back at the prison, he corrected himself, he'd casually gone out to the courtyard for exercise along
with the rest of the men, braving all kinds of weather. But then...and this, he belatedly realized,
was the important bit... he always got to go back inside again after an hour or two, where it was
warm. It was a bitter truth to discover he was used to the constant temperature of the prison
building. He never stopped shivering. His fingers and toes ached. His face hurt. He was sure his
ears would freeze right off before winter was over. The leather jacket he'd lifted from a guard's
locker as they were leaving was not cutting it. It looked cool. And it kept him cool, too.
By the fifth night, Megamind was no longer loudly declaring that the cold didn't bother him a bit,
and Minion sensed the time was ripe.
The sun was setting. Megamind was awake, still curled up in the sleeping bag.
Should be a little warmer tonight, Sir, Minion said.
There was a subtle shift in the huddled mass as Megamind lifted his head.
Oh? he said, in a voice completely lacking in concern.
The radio says it'll only go down to 15 degrees, Minion said. And the wind chill will only be
about 0 to 5.
A wind gust rattled the shed's roof.
That is good news, Megamind said, hunching further in. His breath huffed a cloud into the
frigid air.
Minion waited a few seconds, then said, You know, Sir, I've been thinking...
Yes? Megamind said quickly.
Well, I was wondering if I could ask a favor. He paused.
Ask away, Minion.
Well, I was just thinking, I would feel a whole lot better, and I know it's asking a lot, it's just that
it's been so cold...
Are the temp regulators working all right? Your water isn't starting to freeze, is it?
Oh! No, no, I'm fine, I hardly feel the cold at all!
Megamind sighed. That's good, then.
It's just that I would feel a whole lot better if I could get you a new coat. Just if you want to, he
added quickly. I mean, it would mean a lot to me, then I wouldn't be so worried about this cold,
and, well, it would, you know, make me feel better if I got you a coat, something with a hood.
They say a lot of heat escapes from the head.

Minion held his breath as Megamind considered the suggestion. The shed creaked.
Very well, Minion, he said, graciously bestowing the boon. You may find me a new coat. If it
makes you feel better.
Oh, thank you, Sir! We'll go to Miller Outfitters. They've got the best stuff.
------Hey, there's a fudge shop on the second floor! Megamind said excitedly. His voice was loud in
the silent sporting goods store. He swung his flashlight around and quickly located the escalator.
Minion was already blocking his path. Coat first, Sir, he said cheerfully.
He searched through the racks until he found an over-sized, dark green parka with a hood that fit
over Megamind's large cranium.
Megamind stared at his reflection with wrinkled brows. The fake fur around the edges of the hood
made him feel like he was in a nest. It was heavy. The sleeves covered his hands, which Minion
seemed to think was a bonus. The hem went down to his knees.
There! Warm enough? Minion asked.
This thing's a tent, Megamind complained. He pulled in his arms and legs, and ducked his head
inside until he was completely hidden from sight. See? he said, poking his head out again.
Let's roll the sleeves up. There. Now your hands are free. Better? You have to wear it, Sir. It's
got thinsulate.
Megamind groaned. Minion was in full mothering mode. There was no stopping him.
We have to go with this size, Sir. A smaller size won't have a big enough hood. It's the only way
to keep your head covered. I guess I could shorten it. Do you think another store in this mall has a
sewing machine? We should look.
Minion hoped so. Megamind looked like a kid who'd gotten into his dad's wardrobe. All of his
clothes needed alterations. Everything hung on him like a potato sack.
-------Megamind had to admit, he was a lot warmer in the new coat. He hated the hood, though. It made
him feel like such a dork. He often refused to put the hood up, out of sheer stubbornness, unless
the only other alternative was dying of hypothermia.
Minion took a coat for himself too, so he wouldn't be so noticeable. Sadly, his coat seemed more
to emphasize his blocky robotic frame rather than hide it, but it was useful enough for short
periods of time.
------Whenever a new inmate arrived at the prison, their usual reaction upon seeing the blue boy and his
minion for the first time consisted of a slight widening of the eyes, followed by frowns and
suspicious looks that generally only lasted a few weeks, until the new man got used to them and
began treating them like everybody else did.
The public's reactions were radically different. No prisoner ever actually screamed or pointed or

exhibited any other sort of un-macho behavior upon learning of their existence. This was
something that happened on the streets on a fairly regular basis, though.
They only came out at night, when there were fewer people around, but such a large city never
really slept. Occasional encounters were unavoidable. People usually backed away or fled from
them. They had to keep moving, since within a few minutes of a chance encounter, they tended to
hear sirens, closing in.
It took a few nights for them to realize where the sudden two a.m. crowds were coming from.
This must be the 'bar scene' we've heard so much about, Minion, Megamind said
philosophically, as they observed a bar patron throwing up in the gutter. He shook his head. Some
of the guards and prisoners talked proudly about how sick they'd gotten from alcohol at one time
or another. Megamind had chalked it up to bragging, though it seemed a strange thing to be proud
of. Drinking until you made yourself sick seemed counterproductive, but that appeared to be the
goal.
Sometimes, especially if it were a group, people would bunch together for protection, and make
excited comments like, Do you think they see us? and It's the invaders! and Quick, get the
camera. Sometimes people even followed them, forcing Megamind to bring out the de-gun, or sic
Minion on them. That tended to make these pests scatter.
He began to observe the types of camera they were using. There was something about the way
people were holding them that piqued his interest. Sometimes they held the cameras up in front of
them, as if they were afraid of getting the things too close to their eyes. He and Minion cornered
one of these would-be photographers.
He plucked the camera from the man's hands and turned it over. There was a screen on it. He
drew in his breath.
Minion, it's digital, he said excitedly. I've read about them! Glee lit his face. He beamed at his
captive. Do you know what you have here? Do you? Unlimited potential!
The man swallowed. The cold metallic hand gripping his arm was sobering him up faster than a
gallon of coffee. The fish was glaring at him in what seemed to be a hungry way. His buddies had
all taken off, to get help. Presumably.
You like the camera? You can keep it, he said, nervousness making him generous.
They took it.
-------Finally Megamind had enough of the gawkers. He and Minion were looking for another car to
steal when he realized they were being followed. He looked back over his shoulder. Sure enough,
four people were trailing behind them about half a block away. He could hear them talking and
giggling, their voices echoing against the buildings of the silent street.
Let's just get out of here, someone said.
Don't be such a wuss, Doug, a woman responded. They're not real. It's just a mask.
No, it's true, they say there's gonna be an invasion any day now, another woman said, sounding
more excited than alarmed.
You believe anything, the second man scoffed. I happen to know for a fact that he's the result

of a lab experiment gone wrong. It's happening more and more these days.
That's a new one, Minion muttered darkly. He threw them a dirty look.
It's not real! I'll prove it! the woman said. Hey! she shouted. Hey you!
Megamind stopped. This kind of thing was wearing thin.
Angie, one of the men said, grabbing at her arm. Angie shrugged him off and began stalking
toward them, her heels clicking on the sidewalk.
Minion growled and moved to block her path but Megamind put his arm up to stop him. I'll take
this one, Minion. He recognized a bully when he saw one, even if this one happened to be
wearing high heels and a skirt. He wondered briefly how she could stand the freezing wind that
poured relentlessly through the streets.
Megamind moved to stand in the light of the nearest street lamp. He tilted his chin up and glared at
her as she approached. Angie's determined sneer began to fade the closer she got. When she was
within a few feet her swagger was gone. Her eyes darted uncertainly between Megamind and the
silent, glowering bulk of Minion who had also come into the light. Seeing them close up, with the
street light illuminating their features, it was painfully obvious that the blue face in front of her was
not, in fact, some cheap mask as she'd believed. She could hear the squeaks and creaks of the
fish's armor, and even see the occasional bubbles rising through the fishbowl's water. She licked
her lips nervously and said, Uh...
Is that it? Megamind said snidely. That's the best you can come up with when confronted by a
member of an alien race? A mere syllable? I tell you, Minion, the citizens of this city never cease
to disappoint. I hope, he said, turning back to her, this is real enough for you. He smiled and
tugged at his cheek. This ain't no mask, lady. Angie shifted uneasily, clearly wanting to retreat
but also not wanting to look like a total idiot in front of her friends.
Megamind drew the de-gun. Angie hastily lifted her hands. There was a murmur of alarm from the
other three. Get back to your friends, he ordered. Angie backed up. He walked with her, turning
on his most evil smirk. With Minion advancing as well, he was sure they were making an
impression on these fools.
Hand over your purses and wallets. They were slow to comply, thrown off balance by this
change of fortune. He pointed the gun at the first man in the line-up. You first.
It just turns you into a cube, the other man muttered, who knew so much about lab experiments.
I saw it on the... He flinched and put his hands up when Megamind aimed the gun at him.
Then you can be first, Megamind said. Let's have that watch, too.
-------Later, in a back alley, as Megamind emptied out the cash and credit cards, Minion asked, Sir, are
we going to mug everybody who crosses our path?
If they don't show some respect, we will. I'm sick and tired of getting treated like a freak show,
Megamind said, tossing an empty wallet into the dumpster. From now on, anybody bothers us,
they're getting the full treatment. Fear and intimidation, Minion, will be our motto. People aren't
going to bother us if they're afraid of us.
If you say so, Sir.

--------After they stole another car they parked (or crashed) behind a gas station/convenience store.
Minion was operating the key-o-matic this time. Megamind was too busy hopping from foot to
foot.
The key-o-matic, which looked like a cross between a pair of salad tongs and a stapler, was giving
Minion some trouble. It was too small for his large fingers.
Get it open already! Megamind groaned.
Minion fumbled and finally got a grip on the trigger. You know, there's a perfectly good alley
right over there, Sir.
Perfect if you're a dog, or a homeless vag-grahnt. Just get the door open! Megamind said, bent
almost double.
We're living in a shed, Minion thought. Doesn't that mean we're homeless? He sensed that this
observation would not go over too well, so he didn't say anything. He put the device to the lock,
as if he were going to do some serious stapling, and activated it. An electric charge crawled over
the metal, tumblers turned, the security system went dead, and the lock unlocked. Minion pushed
the door open. Megamind shoved past him and dashed into the rest room.
After the emergency was taken care of, he buckled the belt over his jeans. They were too big and
flapped in the breeze, which drove him crazy. Minion even had to put extra holes in the belt so it
would fit. He looked at the mirror. He was filthy.
This must be why people flee in terror, he thought, grimacing. He pushed up the sleeves of his
zippered sweatshirt and scrubbed his hands and arms. He lathered his head and face, leaning well
over the sink so the water wouldn't run down into his clothes. After he straightened up he noticed
with annoyance that there weren't any paper towels, only a hand dryer. He shook his arms
vigorously and swiped as much water off his head and face as he could. He was about to finish
drying off with the hand dryer when something in the mirror caught his eye. He leaned over the
sink to look more closely.
Minion, he said. There was no answer.
Minion, he called more loudly.
What? came Minion's distant reply.
Minion! Get in here! he shouted.
Minion punched the restroom door open. It crashed against the wall, swinging hopelessly by one
hinge, the massive dent sealing its fate. Minion darted around in his bowl, wildly looking around
the room.
WHAT! What is it! he yelled.
I have a BEARD! Look look look! Megamind said, jabbing excitedly at his jawline.
Minion huffed out a breath in relief. He walked over and leaned down to examine Megamind's
grinning features. He squinted. Sure enough, a thin whisper of dust lined his jaw.
Oh! Oh, there it is. Um. Yes. Well done, Sir! he said brightly.

To the shaving products, Megamind cried. He dashed out of the restroom. He hurried around
the store's narrow aisles until he found the small selection of personal care items. He took all the
razors, shaving cream cans and a grand totoal of three tiny bottles of after shave.
This proves it, Minion, he said grandly, dumping everything into a plastic bag. I was right to
take this course of action, to seize liberty. The air of freedom has brought maturity. I am a man,
free to grow, to expand, to live!
Now then, he said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them. Grab that box of doughnuts,
Minion. It's time to meet my driving instructor.
Don't forget your coat, Sir, Minion said brightly, holding up the tent-parka.
Oh, yes, mustn't forget that, Megamind grumbled.
They raided the cash register, too, because that was what you did when you broke into a place.
---------Nick turned the cab around and made another pass up Bleaker Avenue. He was about to call it a
night. The fares had pretty much dried up by now. It was a weeknight and there weren't too many
peop;e out. He caught a glimpse of someone waving to him from the corner. Two people in
hooded coats. Looked like a couple. The smaller figure was bouncing up and down.
He pulled over to the curb. If he had been paying attention he would have noticed that, despite the
cold, the big man's breath was not fogging the air. As the couple got into the back seat there was a
puzzling creak of metal coming from somewhere.
Cold one, isn't it? Nick said automatically, invoking the standard conversation starter. Neither
person answered. They closed the car door. A metal fist shot out of the man's sleeve and
demolished Nick's CB radio.
Hey! Nick yelled. The man pulled his hood back and revealed the floating, grinning Minion.
Just take it easy, now, Minion said. Nick scrabbled at his door handle, trying to get it open.
Heavy hands grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back down into the seat. Easy does it. No
one's going to hurt you. Nick was having trouble breathing.
The smaller person pulled his hood back and Nick was not at all surprised to see the blue alien
he'd seen on TV.
Nice work, Minion. And it certainly is a cold one, he said, smiling.
Hey, just take the money, there isn't much there...
Megamind slung himself over the back of the seat. Nick's eyes swiveled nervously to the de-gun
dangling casually from his black-gloved hand.
What's your name misterrrr...Nick Connor, Megamind said, catching sight of Nick's license on
the dashboard. You know me?
Uh, yeah, I've seen you on the news. You're Megamind. People have sent in pictures.
Megamind's grin widened. Great. We really must get a television, Minion. Now, contrary to what
you may have heard, I am not here to rob you. I need something much more valuable.
Nick couldn't guess what that might be. What? he asked shakily, certain he wouldn't like the

answer.
Education. Driving lessons, of course, Megamind cried, raising his hands.
You want to learn to drive? Curiosity mad him turn a little more towards his captors. As he
looked at Megamind's eager young face a thought occurred to him. How old are you?
I'm...twenty-five, Megamind said, voice cracking.
There was a muffled snort from Minion, quickly cut off.
Megamind glared at him. Did you have something you wanted to say, Minion?
No, no, not me, Sir.
Because it sounded like you were about to say something, Megamind said.
I-I was just clearing my throat, Sir, Minion said.
Well, let's hope you don't have any more attacks of throat dryness. So, how about it, Nick?
Megamind said, turning back to the front. I'm the sort who doesn't really care much for following
the rules, but first I need to knw what the rules are. In exchange, I promise not to take your
money, you get to keep your cab, and...um...Minion won't rip your arms off.
Sir! Minion looked shocked.
What? Megamind snapped, exasperated. Too harsh for your sensibilities? How about... Minion
won't clobber you on the head. I hope that meets with your approval, he said to Minion
sarcastically.
Minion sniffed. Yes. Yes, it does, he said with hurt dignity.
How can I refuse? Nick thought. All right, mister-
Megamind, said the alien. Just Megamind.
-------The cab flew down the freeway, considerably over the speed limit. Megamind gripped the steering
wheel, grinning like a maniac. Nick clutched the dashboard and door handle with a whiteknuckled grip. Minion was hanging out the window. He couldn't feel the wind but somehow the
landscape whipping by seemed so much closer and more exciting when he hung out the window.
The radio blared. The Immigrant Song by Led Zeppelin came on.
Hey, I love this one! Megamind said, turning it up louder.
Nick hoped the lesson was almost over.
They whooshed by an SUV. Minion waved at them, giving them his toothiest grin. Then he
noticed a woman in the vehicle holding a cell phone to her ear.
Quickly Minion rolled up the window. He should have noticed the sky was getting lighter. It was
morning. Traffic was much heavier. They whizzed by more cars. Minion reached over the back of
the seat and turned off the radio.
Megamind glanced at him in surprise. What did you do that for?

Sir, you better slow down and find an exit ramp. Sun's up. Look at all the traffic. That one lady
back there had a phone.
Megamind grumbled, but he eased off the gas.
And I'm sure Nick would like to go home now, Minion said, glancing at the cabbie. Nick
relaxed a fraction and dared to hope he would get out of there in one piece.
Megamind took the next exit and drove down a side street. They were passing some apartment
complexes that had seen better days. There was block after block of squat brick buildings, all them
exactly alike. Megamind glanced briefly at Nick. He supposed he didn't really have to dehydrate
the cabbie. That seemed a tad ungrateful. But he would probably have to take the cab, despite his
promise not to steal it. They were miles from their hideout, and needed a vehicle. Nick had been
so helpful, though, explaining the rules of the road, and describing how to handle different sorts of
road conditions. Because of his instruction, Megamind now knew that a yellow light did not, in
fact, mean floor it, which was the impression he'd gotten from his observation of other drivers.
Then he saw it. A white van was parked at the curb. A yellow clamp was attached to the front
wheel and there were numerous parking tickets and flyers tucked under the windshield wipers.
Megamind pulled over. He stepped out into the chilly dawn and walked around the van. There
was just a little rust on the left fender. He peered in the window. It seemed to be full of garbage,
but that could be cleared out. And the keys were in the ignition! He could see the key chain with
ZZ Top embossed on it. He drew the de-gun, aimed carefully at the clamp, and fired. The clamp
was successfully cubed, leaving the tire intact. Megamind sighed in satisfaction.
Our new wheels, Minion, he said, as Minion climbed out of the back seat. He walked up to the
cab where Nick was sitting in the passenger seat and knocked on the window.
Thank you for your assistance, Nick. As per our agreement, you get to keep your cab and your
money. You, Megamind gestured broadly at the street ahead, are free to go.
Nick didn't need to be told twice. He practically dove into the driver's seat and took off with a
squeal of tires.
Bye! Megamind smiled and waved. Can you believe it, Minion? Just when we needed a ride,
too. If that's not destiny, I don't know what is.
We should get different plates for it. That cab driver might've seen them, said Minion.
I should go get my driver's license, huh? Megamind laughed, smacking Minion's chest.
Yeah, your best idea yet, Minion said dryly. Do I get to drive now?
Very well. Driving us back to the hideout can be your first lesson. He held out his hand and
Minion gave him the tools. Megamind proceeded to get the van door open. And by the way,
Minion, it does not work, discussing threats in front of the victim. Think about how that looks.
How can they take us seriously if we argue over consequences?
Sorry, Sir, Minion said meekly. It kinda caught me off guard. It won't happen again.
I mean, it wasn't as if I really expected you to rip his arms off if he refused, Megamind said. He
shuddered. Ick.

Artful Dodging
Chapter Notes

I have included a few phrases in Spanish, German, and Chinese. My apologies for
any mistakes I may have made.

You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm. -Colette

Chapter 6: Artful Dodging

One good thing about working at the all-night gas station was that there was plenty of study time,
Ronnie reflected. Despite being the victim of two robberies in the past six months, Ronnie hung in
there. Gas stations were always getting robbed and he needed this job. His scholarship didn't
cover everything. Right now his biggest regret was taking the algebra course, It was killing him.
He glanced up as a van pulled into the station, then looked wearily down at the text book. After a
few minutes the bell over the door gave a little ring. When he saw who had come in, he
straightened up slowly and held onto the counter with both hands, as if that would save him.
The little blue guy in the big coat smiled brightly at him and proceeded to walk through the store,
grabbing items off the shelves and tossing them to his clanking companion.
I'll have that, and one, no, two of these and some of those. Better just take the whole box,
Minion.
Ronnie glanced towards the back of the store, where the exit beckoned, but he knew he wouldn't
make it. They were coming toward him already. Megamind irritably shook back one of his sleeves
and adjusted his black leather gloves. Here comes robbery number three, Ronnie thought, halfraising his hands. He wondered when the gun was coming out.
Minion laid a package of beef jerky, two bottles of pop, and an open display box of candy bars,
one-third full, on the counter.
Now then, Megamind said briskly, pulling a wad of cash out of his pocket, we have all this,
and thirteen gallons of gas, so this should be more than-
Minion thunked a bag of apples and a bag of carrots on the counter. These too, Sir.
Megamind gave him a pained smile. Yes, he said through gritted teeth. Of course. As I was
saying, this should be more than enough to cover it.

He slapped a small stack of bills down and leaned forward. Ronnie didn't dare move. You can
keep the change, Megamind said, raising his eyebrows and and giving Ronnie a very deliberate
nod.
Ronnie looked at the money. The one on top was a twenty. The next one had a definite twenty-ish
look to it as well. There were at least four more underneath that one. He stared at them.
Megamind frowned. Don't you speak English? Habla usted espanol? Sprechen sie Deutsch? Ni
hui shuo hanyu?
I don't know about Chinese, Sir. Try Swedish.
Ronnie managed to say, I'm English. I mean American. I mean I speak English.
Megamind smirked. How nice for you. I plan on visiting this establishment again, as long as
things remain quiet and undisturbed, if you know what I mean. He winked. And there is bound
to be more compensation for you, so long as your continue to provide stellar service.
Huh? Ronnie wasn't having trouble with algebra for nothing.
Megamind closed his eyes and sighed hugely. He opened his eyes again. Don't tell anyone you
saw us...Megamind pointed at Minion and himself several times. ...and I will give you more
money... he rubbed the thumb and fingers of one hand together, ...the next time I come here.
Did I use too many big words that time? he said sarcastically.
Uh, no, no. I mean, sure, okay, I guess, Ronnie gurgled.
Megamind's smile came back. Excellent. Well, ring it up.
Hesitantly, Ronnie managed to add everything in. Uh...$27.58.
Megamind was opening the beef jerky. Minion put the other items in a plastic bag. Like I said,
keep the change. You got questions three and four wrong. 'Y' equals '4x plus 17', and 'A' equals
'23b plus c squared'. We're off! Megamind turned and strode out the door. Minion gave Ronnie
an impassive look and followed.
Ronnie stared at his smudged notebook paper, then grabbed his pencil and quickly wrote down
the answers before he could forget.
After the van drove off, Ronnie examined the bills. There were seven 20-dollar bills. He quickly
stuffed five of them into his pocket. He put the rest in the register, carefully counting out the
change and pocketing that as well. The security cameras were usually never checked unless there
was a robbery or some other trouble, but if questioned he could claim he was too scared to refuse
the money.
Well, they hadn't robbed the place anyway, had they? This was just a tip, that was all, and he said
he'd be back, with more. This could really help with books and stuff.
He looked at his text book. Megamind had solved two problems in his head, from an upside down
book. Ronnie decided to bring in his chemistry homework next time. Maybe there would be some
help there, too.
--------------Did you really need to bribe him? You know you're going to have to give him that much every
time, Sir, Minion said.

A little money greases the wheels, Megamind said cheerfully. He turned the volume up on
Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit blaring from the radio, nodding along to the music. I can
always get more. There's plenty! Spending money gave him a new thrill. He'd never bought
anything before! They'd taken money whenever they came across it, but they stold whatever else
they needed, too. There seemed to be no need to try to buy food or clothing or tools. The money
was just gathering dust, really, and beginning to pile up.
Stolen food continued to be their amin form of sustenance. Megamind might not have minded
throwing more money around, but it was simply too much of a hassle to try to bribe the entire staff
at a restaurant.
Sometimes Megamind and Minion ambushed delivery guys as they were about to get into their
cars, or they would spot a delivery vehicle and follow them around until they reached their
destinations, and then rob them. Some restaurants began adding extra delivery charges, for
emotional wear and tear on the drivers.
Megamind was almost giddy over the overwhelming variety of food: Chinese, Italian, Indian,
Mexican, fast food.
Luigi's was the best. This time they stopped some customers as they were leaving the place.
I'll take that, he grinned at the stunned faces, deftly handing the loot to Minion. He turned and
saw a couple of men a little further along the sidewalk. One of them was quickly putting a camera
back in his pocket.
The men stepped back warily as he marched over to them.
Go on, take another, he said, smirking. They glanced at each other. Megamind gestured
impatiently. The camera, take another photo. Go on. Hesitantly, the man produced the camera
again. Megamind grinned and struck a pose, hands on hips, chest stuck out.
Send it in the news so I can be sure to see it. I'll be able to tell if you're any good as a
photographer or not. He swept past and on down the sidewalk.
What happened to being sick and tired of getting treated like a freak show? Minion muttered.
Oh, this is different, Megamind said airily. Besides, they can put me on TV again.
Never should have let him get that portable TV, Minion thought.
A police car pulled up outside the restaurant a block behind them. Megamind immediately slipped
into the nearest alley, Minion close behind.
They showed up pretty fast, Minion said as they ran. We might be hitting this place too often.
Point taken, Minion, Megamind said, accelerating.
Megamind was rapidly getting into the best shape of his young life. By necessity, he'd already
mastered the sprint, but it was impossible to run very far in the prison. Pretty quick, you ran up
against a locked gate or a wall, or, worst of all, the person you were trying to get away from.
Outside, there were endless opportunities for increasing one's stamina. Running for more than a
few blocks used to leave him wheezing. Now it was the work of a moment to run down the alley,
over the fence, across the back lot, through the laundromat, hide behind the dumpster and cut back
to the van.
-------------

The garden shed was history. Megamind couldn't stand the cold anymore, even with a mountaindurable sleeping bag. Their new hideout was the basement of an apartment building. It was noisy
with the clanking and rumbling of the water heater, air vents, and furnace, but it was considerably
warmer. And riskier. Anyone might come down there anytime. There were no stoarage facilities
or laundry rooms, (those seemed to be on higher floors) but a superintendent or some maintenance
worker might come down there for some reason and because of this possibility neither of them
slept very well.
If they could have moved into the basement of the library, they definitely would have. They's
spent a number of pleasant nights there, among the wealth of books and magazines. The library
basement was well-used; much was stored there and it looked as if it were visited regularly, so
moving in was out of the question.
One night Minion found Megamind in one of the library offices, staring intently at the computer.
He looked over his shoulder.
Is that an ad for a store? Minion asked, looking at the list of electronics.
It's the Internet, Megamind almost whispered.
Minion could barely drag him away before dawn.
----------------One morning they returned to their hideout to find a family of four hovering over their belongings.
Megamind recognized them as homeless, he'd seen enough of them by now, what with the way
they seemed to be wearing every item of clothing they owned. There were a few garbage bags
slumping dejectedly around them, too, no doubt containing the rest of the family's stuff. The man
was shaking out Megamind's sleeping bag. A cloud of dust wafted off it. They all turned as
Megamind and Minion entered, with typical reactions.
The man flung the sleeping bag down as if it had caught fire. The woman gasped and grabbed the
child next to her around the shoulders. The smaller child in her arms sniffled and blinked.
We weren't taking your stuff, man, I had to get something to keep her warm, Marie's sick, we
gotta keep her warm, there was nobody here, look, just let us leave, we won't say anything, the
man babbled. He had his arms raised in the universal 'let's everybody stay cool, now' gesture.
Megamind had pulled the de-gun out of his coat pocket automatically, but he wasn't aiming it. His
elbow was bent, and he held the gun up, pointing at the ceiling. His surprise at finding them there
faded into confusion. It was barely 5:00 in the morning. What were they doing here at this hour?
Did the homeless shelter kick them out? Had they just gotten convicted? He wondered which one
was Marie, but there wasn't time for an interview. Should he try bribing them? But he knew no
matter how much money he gave them he would never feel safe here again.
He should dehydrate them immediately. Then they could have their place back. He could rehydrate them later that evening, but he couldn't trust that they wouldn't blab abut running into the
fugitives. Their hideout was ruined.
He should still dehydrate them. At least he and Minion would have one more day here. But he
hesitated. Minion shifted behind him and cleared his throat as if he were wondering when Sir
would get on with it.
Megamind looked around the frightened faces. In his mind's eye he could see how it would go.
He'd shoot the man first, he was standing in front, and as the glittering cube fell the woman would

scream, or maybe she'd attack him, she looked pretty wild-eyed, and he'd shoot her too and the the
children would cry...
Get our stuff, Minion, we're leaving, he said.
Minion silently shoveled their clutter and clothes into the backpacks. When he went to pick up the
sleeping bag, Megamind said, Leave that. They can use it.
He regretted his generous impulse immediately. Fear and alarm shot across the faces of the adults,
quickly replaced by blank features that hid their true feelings and he knew that they would sooner
touch the blanket of a smallpox victim. A hot iron ball settled in his throat.
The sleeping bag lay where it had fallen as he walked to the stairs.
By unspoken agreement, Minion took the wheel of the van. Megamind slouched down in the
passenger seat and crossed his arms over his stomach. Minion pulled away from the curb and
drummed his fingers on the wheel. Megamind could tell that Minion kept glancing over at him but
he stared stonily out the window.
Minion said, I think we should go to that theater. They're only open on the weekends. I don't
think anybody even goes in there on Mondays and Tuesdays.
Megamind shrugged his thin shoulders. They could drive around all day for all he cared.
The rest of the ride was a silent ordeal.
They entered the theater through a back door. And that's how it would be, Megamind thought
furiously, striding down the dark hall. For the rest of our days we'll sneak in through the back.
Already he felt like he knew every damn cellar, basement, back lot, and alleyway in the city. They
might as well move into the sewers and get it over with. The only was forward was down. It was
a bad day when you even had to make way for some miserable wretches who didn't...didn't
even...
His vision blurred. He walked faster. He found the restroom almost by accident and went int,
hoping Minion wouldn't follow. He got the water turned on just in time and leaned on the sink. He
squeezed his eyes shut and felt the tears run down his nose. Fortunately it didn't last long. The
ache in his throat eased.
He took a deep, shuddering breath, and wiped his eyes and face. He began to pace around,
running his fingertips over the smooth tiles and stall doors.
He was just tired, that was all. He didn't care what a bunch of random strangers thought. He paced
faster, fuming. He wasn't sad or depressed, or, or, or homesick. Those children. If those kids
hadn't been there it would have been easier. He almost never saw anyone younger and smaller
than himself. On visiting days at the prison, he had long made a habit of spending the day in the
library or the mechanic's bay, so he wouldn't accidentally run into any of the families that came to
visit the other inmates.
He certainly wasn't homesick. Far from it. He didn't miss anybody, not Harry or Sid or Lenny,
and definitely not...
Unbidden, a memory surfaced. Blue was four. He'd been crying. He sat on the warden's lap,
sniffling and hiccuping, holding Minion's bowl his own lap. Mr. Parker had his arm around his
shoulders. With his other hand he gently wiped the tears off Blue's face.
It's okay, bud, Mr. Parker said. That man's not coming back. Minion's all right, isn't he?

Blue managed a shaky smile and held Minion up for inspection.

The warden smiled back. Yeah, he looks okay to me. Everything's all right.
Megamind stopped his pacing, and stared blankly at the wall. It was odd, but he couldn't
remember what had led up to this incident. What was...
His face twisted. He struck a stall door so it crashed open. It didn't matter. He'd been upset, and
the warden had dried his tears. Big deal. Now Parker gave him nothing but lectures and looks of
resigned dismay and thought he was nothing but a troublemaker. Everybody had these
expectations.
Even Minion has expectations. I'm the one in charge. He depends on me to mae the right
decisions. All this pressure! Megamind thought with growing wrath. He probably thinks I made a
mistake.
Megamind slammed out of the restroom.
Minion took a couple steps back. Megamind's gaze could've burned holes through concrete.
I suppose you think I should have shot them, Megamind said, jabbing an accusing finger.
Minion twisted his hands together. Well, I-I-I, no, I didn't think that. I was kinda glad you didn't,
Sir, not that you couldn't, he added quickly. Or anything. It was just sort of...not right. Just, just
not worthy. Wouldn't have been much of a challenge, eh, Sir? Minion laughed nervously.
Megamind could already feel his anger draining away. He let his gaze travel slowly around the
ceiling and ornate light fixtures. He pursed his lips thoughtfully.
Yes, he said slowly. I suppose it wouldn't have been very sportsmanlike, to shoot such
obviously pathetic individuals. He took a deep breath and huffed it out. As usual, Minion, you
have hit on the crux of the matter. He smiled and clapped him on the arm. Let's find the lights
ofr this place and do some exploring!
They spent an agreeable few hours uncovering the scenery backstage and rooting around in the
costumes.
Ooo, look at this, Megamind said, holding up a black cape with a rakish collar. He tossed it
around his shoulders and clasped it. It dragged on the floor. He pulled the rest of the costume off
the hanger. There was a white mask to go with it. Half a mask, anyway. He went over to the fulllength mirror, cape trailing behind him. He flipped the cape off one shoulder and held the mask
up.
Why do you suppose it's just half a mask? he mused. He liked the contrasting colors of the black
cape against his skin, and the bone whiteness of the mask.
Hmm, said Minion, looking at a wall poster. Must be this guy here, Sir.
Megamind laughed when he saw the title. Phantom of the Opera! Menacing.
He tried the rest of the costume, but it was, of course, too big. After some more rummaging, he
found sort of a green elf suit with tights that very nearly fit. Looked odd with the cape though, so
he switched back to his regular clothes. Minion tried on the hats.
Megamind spent quite a lot of time climbing the huge curtain on the stage, then the ropes. Finally,

with much effort, he managed to climb all the way up to the catwalk. He walked around on it,
then tried balancing on the handrail. He nearly tripped over the cape once. Minion went into
conniptions, and threatened to come up there and drag him down if he didn't stop doing that.
Megamind laughed.
I'd like to see you try! he shouted. Your arms can't stretch this far! He swung on one of the
roopes for a bit, then finally had pity on Minion and slid down the stage again. The cape flared out
as he descended. He swung around his arms, making the fabric soar out and around him as he
dashed back and forth on the stage.
Having worn himself out at last, he made sort of a nest of the costumes and went to sleep. Minion
floated down the bottom of his containment unit and went to sleep, too.
----------------That evening they searched the old industrial district. Megamind was determined to find a place
that he could claim as his own. The area was a mix of empty lots, barely-active businesses and
abandoned buildings. There were a number of warehouses in the area which were still in use, and
a few small workshops. They would have to be careful not to be noticed by the employees of
these places; some of the businesses had erratic work hours.
An ancient fire station was tucked away on a side street. There was a mural of an old-time horsedrawn engine painted on the side of it. The fire station was rather intriguing, and had a certain
appeal, but the old building looked close to collapse. A buoyantly optimistic sign hammered to the
front door declared that this was a future Historic Landmark and would be scheduled for
restoration within the year. A date printed at the bottom of the yellowing, cracked sign was four
years old. There seemed to be little danger that the Historical Society was going to descend on the
place any time soon.
There was an abandoned factory behind itthat seemed a better choice, despite the gaping hole in
the roof. The floor was sound. Against all logic, it was even colder inside than it was outside, as if
it were a giant freezer, but at least the factory was fairly isolated, being placed even further back
than the fire station. There was a garage door in the back, accessible only by the alley. The main
floor was littered with old machines of uncertain usage and a number of rusty tools.
There was also a rest room, complete with a ghastly shower. Megamind wasn't even going to
think about inspecting the toilet stalls.
Trying not to touch anything, he peered cautiously into a sink. It was caked with rust and grime.
The faucets were practically fossilized.
The pipes are probably frozen, Minion muttered, but he reached out, grabbed one of the faucet
handles, and wrenched it open. The faucet rattled and groaned, there was a loud clanking
somewhere deep inside the wall, and a thin red trickle of water streamed out, adding to the
colorful motif in the bottom of the sink.
Urk, said Minion. He hastily forced the faucet handle closed. He and Megamind shared a
grimace. Hygiene was going to continue to be a challenge.
I think we can board up the door to this room, Megamind said, hurrying back out to the main
floor.
The basement was spacious, and surprisingly free of clutter. A massive corroded furnace took up
almost a quarter of the room. There were two wooden tables, a few empty cardboard boxes, and a
ping-pong table. A cardboard box sitting next to it contained three ping-pong paddles and several

crushed and broken balls. Megamind examined the cobwebbed ceiling and walls. There were
some electrical outlets. He brightened a little. He could set up a proper work bench in here. The
gardening shed, cold and dank, was not conducive to even the thought of a workbench. At the
prison, he'd basically had a few shoe-box sized corners hidden here and there for various projects.
Here, there was room to spread out, and no need to hide anything from nosy guards.
Consumed with survival issues, he hadn't had any time or inclination to build anything. He hadn't
constructed anything since he made the key-o-matic and the ceramic shrinker back at the prison.
The ceramic shrinker was a special attachment for the de-gun and, sadly, had accidentally gotten
crushed when Minion stepped on it. It was just a novelty, really, only good for shrinking objects
made out of ceramic, like cups and plates. He made the device to shrink the dishes in the warden's
office, purely for annoyance purposes.
This place can be our hideout, Minion, he said. And my lab.
------------------Megamind hacked into the power grid and discretely began siphoning very small amounts of
electricity from a number of businesses and residential building in the southeast quadrant. It was
more than enough.
The power company employees noticed a small discrepancy in the numbers, but when the readers
were adjusted, the discrepancy disappeared. They chalked it up to a glitch and thought no more
about it.
-------------------They always parked the van in a secret location and walked to the library. Megamind didn't want
the van sitting outside the library all night.
They were two blocks away when a movement caught Megamind's eye. Someone was sitting in a
car parked at the curb, just off the library's parking lot. Though the car was in shadow, he had
seen the outline of a person scratching his head. With a suspicion that had become second nature
to him, and without breaking stride, he slipped around the corner of the shoe store. They walked
down a block, took another left, then approached from around the back of the bakery, keeping to
the dark.
They had a good view of the front and north side of the library. After a moment Megamind said
quietly, You see it, Minion? Parked on that side street?
The unmarked car with two men in it? Or the black and white one over there?
Megamind chuckled. Well spotted, my scaly friend. One could hardly miss the glow of the
cigarette. It occurs to me, Minion, that it doesn't take a genius to escape the attentions of
Metrocity's finest. How much you want to bet there's another car somewhere in the back?
Hmph. I wouldn't be surprised, Sir, Minion said, and sighed. How do you suppose they found
out?
Oh, who knows? Maybe the warden told them I like books and they finally got it into their little
cop minds that the library has lotsa books in it.
Megamind felt rather depressed. He'd been looking forward to getting some reading done. He and
Minion were so careful not to leave any mess or piles of books lying around, to ensure that no one
could tell someone was rooting around in the library at night. He'd been considering taking a few
books along with him this time, now they had their own place.

He stamped his feet. They were getting numb. Finding biker boots in the right size had taken some
doing. The boots did a fairly decent job keeping his feet warm, but it was especially frigid and
damp tonight, with a light mist that wormed its way in under every layer he was wearing. At least
he'd found some skinnier jeans that didn't flap in the wind.
He thought about finding a way to sneak it, right under the cops' noses, but reluctantly decided it
would be too risky. Even these knuckleheads would be alerted by movement from inside the
building, and the library had many huge windows. He was about to tell Minion they should be
going when there was a brief flash of white in the sky. He froze.
A figure dropped lightly out of the sky and landed next to the black and white squad car. There
was only one person it could be. The two cops got out of their vehicle. Even at this distance
Megamind could hear them greeting Wayne Scott, boy wonder.
Minion shuffled and whimpered a little.
Quiet! Megamind whispered. His own heart was pounding. Did Wayne have his lousy superhearing turned on or not? He'd read an interview a few years back in which Wayne said he could
turn his super-hearing on or off at will.
I just do it. Or else I'd never get any sleep, Wayne had shrugged and smiled charmingly, as the
interviewer gushingly described it.
It was probably crap. Nobody could turn their hearing on and off. I'll bet he just tunes out stuff he
doesn't want to hear, Megamind thought.
No, Wayne wasn't aware of them, not yet, anyway, or else he'd have grabbed them by now. But if
he decided to really listen, what then? Would he hear their heartbeats? Their breathing? Would he
hear the water cycling through Minion's containment unit? If he decided to take a look around
with his x-ray vision, they were screwed.
Wayne was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt. His youthful muscles moved and rippled in the
streetlight like a prize stallion's. He doesn't feel the cold, of course. Bastard, Megamind thought
sourly. The men from the unmarked car wandered over to the little group. They all talked and
laughed. Now Megamind's feet were really cold, but he didn't dare move. Time stretched on and
he was getting more aggravated by the second. His nose hairs were starting to freeze.
Worst police stakeout I've ever seen, Megamind thought, from his vast experience of having
observed exactly one stakeout. Those bozos couldn't catch a stray dog, with all the noise they're
making.
After an unbearable amount of time, Wayne seemed to be saying good-bye. At last he flew off, no
doubt to spread cheer and goodwill elsewhere. Megamind and Minion slumped against the wall in
relief.
I think...maybe we should call it a night, Minion, he said. But we'll make a quick stop at a
bookstore first.

The Girl of His Dreams

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Today's quote is an excerpt from a poem by Rumi:

The intellect says: The six directions are limits: there is no way out.
Love says: There is a way. I have traveled it thousands of times.

------------------------

The waters of the lake were rising. Megamind hurried through the streets, the sound of his
breathing loud in his ears, looking for the door. He splashed through puddles that were filling up
and running together as the water began its inexorable march inland. It was ankle deep. His feet
were soaked. The distant murmur of the lake became a muted roar. It was flexing its muscles,
working its way up to a tidal wave. He sloshed on.
Now the water was over his knees, threatening to carry him off his feet. He grabbed desperately at
the handrail and pulled himself onto the stairs. The water surged upward, pulling at him, trying to
drag him back, but he broke free. He ran up the stairs and into the building.
He paused to catch his breath. He straightened his tux and opened the ballroom doors. He was
greeted by a mass of colorful, whirling figures, laughing and dancing. He stepped slowly into the
room. The ceiling was higher than a cathedral's, and pillars lined the dance floor. The main wall in
front had a massive window, giving a breath-taking view of the moonlit lawn, and glass doors.
Smaller windows flanked it. There was no sign of the flood that had driven him here.
His father stepped out of the crowd, wearing the silver outfit customary for their people.
The older man spoke, and Megamind couldn't understand a word. I'm sorry, I don't know what
you're...saying..., he said. He had responded in English. That couldn't be right. He should know
the right words, he should know how to speak properly, but even the few words he knew were
just out of reach, like whispering in another room that he couldn't quite hear.
His father spoke again, urgently. I can't understand you, Megamind said miserably.
His mother stepped in front of him, eyes green as his own. You forgot your mask, she said, and
blindfolded him.
What! Hey! he protested and snatched it off. They were gone. He pushed through the cheerful
crowd in a growing panic, calling for them. The people pressed around him, the women in
colorful ball gowns, the men in black tuxedos, but they were all strangers, all aliens.
On the other side of the room the crowd thinned. A long row of empty chairs stood along the wall.
A girl sat in one of the chairs, peering around the ballroom. She looked at him and her face lit up
in a bright smile.
There you are! she cried, leaping to her feet.

He glanced over his shoulder. There who is? he wondered, as she reached out and grabbed his
hand. She pulled him onto the dance floor. When she turned to him he automatically held up one
arm to place it around her waist. She reached for his other hand and frowned.
Do you really need that thing? she asked, wrinkling her nose and tilting her head to one side.
He was still holding the blindfold. The mask. It had proper eye holes now, and was blue, exactly
the same shade as his skin. He shrugged, and gave her a crooked smile.
I certainly do, he said, putting it on. He spun around with her, falling into the steps of the dance
as if his feet had been taking lessons without him. Part of him was in shock. He'd never held a girl
in his arms before. He moved fluidly, twirling around with her like a champ. She wore a gown of
white edged with gold. Her long brown hair was tied back in a braid, her bangs curved gently
over her eyebrows, and there was a faint dusting of freckles over her nose. Her blue eyes sparkled.
I didn't think you'd make it, Megs, she said.
Neither did I. Traffic was unbelievable, he said. He felt a pleasant fluttering sensation in his
stomach. Whoever called him 'Megs'? He looked into her eyes and decided that she could go
ahead and call him whatever she wanted.
There was a distant cry of Four! and one of the smaller windows shattered as a golf ball flew in
and rolled across the dance floor. An elf wearing a skin-tight green outfit climbed in the window,
cursing and grumbling.
Do you mind? I'm trying to play through here, he said testily as he elbowed his way through the
throng.
Always playing games, the girl sighed.
A shadow passed overhead, the sound of wings momentarily drowning out the music. A crow
settled on a little ledge at the top of one of the pillars.
There was another cry of Four! Another window broke, glass twinkling and shining as the
shards floated to the ground. The room was gaining a small contingent of elves, arguing about the
score. Megamind tried to keep his eyes on the golf balls that were starting to litter the floor.
This would be a lot easier if you'd take that stupid thing off, she said. She reached up to the
mask. He jerked his head out of reach, and backed away from her.
That's what you think. It's there for your protection.
She snorted. Yeah, right! You're so full of it. She stepped back into his embrace, and they took
up the dance again.
No, I mean it. If you only knew, he said.
You were late. You know how long I was sitting there?
There was another fluttering of dark wings. He looked up. Crows were perched on several pillars
around the room.
I told you, he said vaguely. Traffic was murder.
That's no excuse, she said, but he could hardly even look at her now, the crows were
commanding his attention. Every time they turned around there was another one.

He nearly slipped on a golf ball. They passed by a poker table. Minion was seated there. Wayne
Scott sat next to him, looking dapper in his specially tailored tux that easily accommodated his
massive physique. A strange bald man with glasses sat across from them. He held five cheese
slices in his hands. He nodded and smiled at Megamind amiably.
Minion seemed to be playing with raw bacon. He smacked one down on the table with a
disquieting slap. Wayne was holding Twinkies.
Wayne smiled his mega-watt smile. Pull up a chair, little buddy, he said.
Um, Minion? Megamind said.
Be with you in a minute, Sir, Minion murmured, staring intently at the bacon. The ceiling was
dark with crows, cawing and fluttering.
A hand fell on his shoulder. Would you settle down for once in your life and get in line? the
warden said. A long orange line of prisoners stood by the buffet table. At the head of the line was
a man wearing a black hood. Bandoliers criss-crossed his chest and an ax was stuck through his
belt. Megamind was alone, the girl seemed to have melted into the crowd. He shook the warden's
hand off and backed away.
He stepped out of the light of the dance floor and into the shadows. The music was cut off as if
he'd entered a sound-proof room. His chest tightened. He was afraid to turn around, but he needed
to see where he was going. He turned.
The crow in the corner was huge, and monstrous. Its beady eye glinted. A dead fox lay under the
crow's foot. It had to be dead. Nothing could look like that and still be alive.
The fox gave a little whimper. The collar around its neck was so tight that a thin trickle of blood
ran onto the floor. The crow smiled, and struck.
------------------Megamind sat up with a cry. Gasping he stared sightlessly into the dark and he didn't know where
he was for a second. The basement. He was in the factory basement. His heart rate began to slow
to something like a normal pace. There was a movement in the dark, and then Minion turned on a
floor lamp.
Sir? Are you all right?
Megamind drew in a shaky breath. It's all right. I just had a dream. In the treacherous manner of
many dreams, the images were already fading, except for the lingering feelings of terror. The
pleasant feelings he'd felt while dancing with the girl were almost gone. He couldn't even
remember what she looked like now, to his chagrin. It might have been nice to retain that
particular memory, but all he could recall was blue eyes and brown, braided hair.
Well, it didn't matter. It was just a dream.
----------------------After closing time, they paid a visit to one of the big stores. Megamind was scanning the magazine
rack, looking for Popular Mechanics, when a different publication caught his eye. The woman
staring out at him from Cosmopolitan looked as if she were caught in a storm. Her hair was blown
back by a mighty wind. Her stance suggested she was prepared to either embrace a lover or punch
someone out, it was difficult to say. Either possibility seemed likely. He was a bit hazy on popular

culture, but he was pretty sure it was a magazine for ladies. Did women like looking at other
women? Perhaps they all liked to see how they were supposed to look. Judging by the covers of
the other magazines, they also liked looking at artistically arranged food and unbearably cute
children.
He read the article titles on the cover. Hottest Fashions. Is He Cheating? Here's the Signs. 76
Ways to Please Your Man. That seemed like a lot. What kinds of ways? At the prison, one sure
way for a woman to please a man was just to show up, but there were a couple of other things the
men liked to talk about too. Did women really know an additional seventy-three other ways?
He picked up the magazine and thumbed through it until he found the article. The author had
chosen to start with the ears.
Megamind's own ears were starting to heat up. As he read, his hand idly traveled almost of its own
volition up his neck. His fingertips lightly stroked the side of his neck, producing a tingling
sensation. He touched his ear, and tried to imagine that it was a woman's hand that was--Minion said, Oh, there you are, Sir, I was---
Megamind slammed the magazine back onto the rack, dislodging a dozen others. There was a
cascade of print. He snatched frantically at the slippery pages, then gave up and let them fall.
Just....just heading for electronics, he croaked. He stepped over the scattered magazines and
quickly headed for the safety of a distant aisle.
He was sitting on the floor, examining a pile of CDs, when he heard Minion's creaking footsteps
behind him. Megamind's shoulders tensed. The way Minion was walking, it sounded like a
lecture. Minion cleared his throat.
Sir, there comes a time in every young man's life when he gets certain urges...
Minion, I distinctly remember having a similar conversation with the warden four years ago on
the very subject you are so tactfully approaching, Megamind said, wincing a little at the memory.
I do not need you to tell me about the hornets, because, and this may come as a shock to you, I
haven't forgotten how babies are made.
Minion was silent for a few moments. I think you mean the birds and the bees, Sir.
Use whatever metaphor you like, Megamind said. Minion shuffled his feet. Megamind looked
around, irritated. What, Minion?
Well, it's just that we haven't talked about it. I just want you to know, if you ever want to talk
about anything, like your feelings, I'm---
Feelings. What sorts of feelings! Megamind jumped to his feet.
Um, about, you know, girls... Minion said, gulping.
Which girls! The ones in the magazines, or the ones who run screaming as soon as they see me?
Megamind said, scowling.
It might make you feel better, to talk about...about things, Minion said. I mean, we're outside
now, there's opportunities to, you know, meet people, and you're genetically compatible, there's
no reason why---
Meet people? When do we ever meet people, Minion? When we're mugging them? And don't

talk to me about genetics! Megamind snapped. You may not have noticed, but when people see
me on the street, they don't say 'Hm, there's an interesting genetic variation.' If you want to know
what my feelings are, then my feelings are that no matter what I'm feeling, I am not going to meet
some nice girl. Megamind flung his hands up. What do you want me to do, kidnap somebody
and ask if she'd like to see a movie sometime? I'd have to tie her up to keep her from running
away. Megamind turned his back and began rummaging through the CDs as if he had a personal
grudge against plastic.
Minion stared sadly at the angry, hunched back. Sir's ears were maroon from anger or
embarrassment. Probably both.
His boy was growing up. He no longer shared all his thoughts and feelings with Minion the way
he used to. Minion was doing his best to prepare his ward for the rigors and challenges of life, but
it wasn't easy. The talk show advice to let loved ones know that you cared about them seemed to
work pretty well when the guests were all sitting around in the studio, but it was obvious that Sir
wasn't quite in the right mood for a heart to heart chat.
He really should work up the nerve to call the show sometime, though it might be difficult
phrasing the right question. Minion tried it out in his head. Hello, I'm servant and guardian for a
teenage alien boy who is struggling with his identity, and notions of his own attractiveness
to...why, yes, he's humanoid, but we're on the lam, and don't really get to meet anyone
suitable...er, no one's tracing this call, are they? He shook himself. Maybe he should just look for
some kind of parenting manual.
Megamind dumped some CDs in the shopping cart.
Come on, he said. Let's go get something to eat.
----------------------They set up an ambush behind the Great Wall Restaurant. Megamind could not get over his
agitation and was still fuming.
What's he trying to do, marry me off? he thought. Can't he leave it alone? No woman is going to
accept the giant head.
The inescapable blueness,his thoughts charged on, gathering steam. He couldn't imagine meeting
girls, or getting to know anyone under normal circumstances. There were no normal
circumstances. His circumstances were about as un-normal as you could get. The un-normalness
rolled outward and onward, filling the world, infinite and unchanging. Sitting around in a coffee
shop and chatting with a girl was as likely as jumping into the air and flying to the moon. He
couldn't imagine a woman willingly coming to the hideout, other than a uniformed one.
A delivery man came out of the back door. Megamind slipped out from behind the dumpster and
grabbed the car door before the man could slam it shut. He pointed the gun at him.
Hand over the bags, he ordered the frightened man. Minion took them.
Probably be on the run for the rest of my life, Megamind thought, determined to drain the bitter
cup.
He hurried out of the alley. Minion crashed into a garbage can. Megamind looked back in
irritation at the noise as he rounded the corner.
Hurry up, Minion! Can't you---

WHAM! He cannoned into somebody standing on the sidewalk and their heads collided with a
bone-jarring crack. Megamind was knocked over onto his back from the impact.
Ow, he said, staring at the sky. There was a small shriek from the restaurant's doorway. He
levered himself up to a sitting position, holding his aching head. A teenage girl was sitting on the
sidewalk, hand to her forehead, squinting at him. The way her mouth fell open was almost
comical. She looked at the older woman standing in the doorway, who had her hands clasped to
her mouth. The girl's long brown braid swayed. The pool of light from the windows illuminated
her blue eyes. Megamind stared. Deja vu pinned him to the spot.
...her long brown hair was tied back in a braid...a faint dusting of freckles...Her blue eyes...He
turned around with her, feet falling into the steps of the dance...
Then the girl gasped and her eyes widened in terror as Minion loomed over them, as he was so
good at doing. Reality crashed back with an almost audible 'thwump.'
Come on! Get up, Minion said, grabbing him under the arm. He lifted Megamind to his feet.
Megamind glanced back at the girl's upturned face as Minion pulled him down the icy sidewalk,
and then they were gone, fled into the night.
Are you all right, Roxanne? Mrs. Ritchi asked as she went to her daughter.
Yeah, I'm okay. We knocked heads. He ran into me, she added, in case her mother had missed
the encounter. She was still a little dazed.
Incredible! Their neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Douglas were bending over her, their faces creased
with concern. They'd been chatting and saying good night to Mrs. Ritchi in the lobby when
Roxanne was bowled over by what, at first glance, appeared to be a scarecrow. Are you okay,
honey? The restaurant's cashier crouched down next to Roxanne and placed her hand on her
shoulder. You all right? I need to call an ambulance?
Roxanne was feeling suffocated by all the hovering. She staggered to her feet, nearly cracking
heads with her mother. I'm all right. Geez.
Let's get her back inside, Mrs. Douglas said.
I'm not hurt, Roxanne said, trying not to yell. Nobody was listening. Roxanne sighed and
allowed herself to be fussed back into the restaurant.
You sit here, said the cashier. Someone plunked a glass of water onto the table. Roxanne picked
it up, and held the cold glass to her forehead. We called the police, the cashier added, her lips
pressed in a thin line.
They took two delivery orders! the manager was saying into the phone. How am I supposed to
keep this place going, huh? They've robbed us three times now! What do I pay taxes for, huh? A
small crowd was excitedly recounting the event, even though only a few people had actually seen
anything. It didn't look like the restaurant was doing so badly. If anything, it looked more crowded
than Roxanne had seen it for a while.
Roxanne's head throbbed. There would probably be a bruise. Wait'll I tell Cheryl, she thought.
She'll never believe it.
Can't we just go, Mom? They're gone anyway.
Well, I suppose we'll have to talk to the police, Mrs. Ritchi said uncertainly. We're witnesses.

All the noise was giving Roxanne a headache. She put the glass down, closed her eyes and leaned
her head on her hands. She hadn't seen the gun they said he always carried. He didn't look
dangerous. He looked grubby. The news anchors on TV were always so grim when delivering the
news of the alien boy's latest escapade, as if he were a serial killer. Of course, that robot-fish was a
shock. Usually they just showed photos of Megamind, hamming it up for the camera. Minion was
generally in the back, if at all, as a hulking shadow. In person he was definitely a revelation in
hugeness.
Roxanne and her pals thought the whole thing was overblown, especially when they were all
sitting around making fun of the situation. What did he ever do except steal everything in sight? It
seemed a little less hilarious now.
In spite of the large cranium, his features actually looked pretty normal. Pretty good looking, even.
Did you see his eyes, Mom?
What? Mrs. Ritchi said, looking towards the door as if wishing they could sneak out. Whose
eyes?
The--- Roxanne hesitated. It didn't seem right to just call him 'the alien,' like he was some sort of
specimen. Megamind's eyes. Did you see how green they were? They almost glowed.
Mrs. Ritchi gave Roxanne an incredulous look. Roxanne threw her hands up in exasperation.
What, Mom!?
Don't take this the wrong way, dear, said Mrs. Ritchi. But maybe we should have your head
examined.
--------------------Megamind was unusually quiet on the ride back to the hideout. Minion wondered if he was still
grumpy about their conversation in the store earlier, or maybe it was just that his head hurt. Minion
thought they had some ice in the freezer. Sir was going to need it. Minion cleared his throat.
I think there's some garlic chicken in one of the bags, Sir, he said. Food was generally a safe
topic. Minion was sure he could smell some shrimp, too. He was looking forward to that. Minion
didn't eat much, and was generally quite happy with his fish flakes, but some good meat he could
sink his teeth into once in a while was welcome. It disturbed people sometimes when they found
out that Minion liked to eat fish. He didn't really see why.
Megamind was still staring out the window. He gingerly felt the side of his head, which had borne
the brunt of the impact. He seemed more distracted than angry.
Um. Minion, he said haltingly.
Then there was silence. Minion waited.
Yes, Sir? he prompted, turning onto the exit ramp.
Megamind opened his mouth, then shut it again. Finally he turned to Minion with an anxious
frown.
Am I...my species I mean...is my species psychic? The Calli, I mean?
Minion swiveled in astonishment, then turned to make sure their vehicle wasn't heading toward

anything solid.
Psychic, he muttered. A little louder he said, You mean, like, ESP, making stuff float in the air,
predicting the future, things like that?
Well, yes, something like that, Megamind said. Especially that last bit.
No-o-o, Minion said carefully. I don't think so.
It's just that...I remember mother and father touching their foreheads together a few times... his
voice trailed off.
Oh. Well. Minion shifted in his seat. Physical touch is a good way of producing feelings of
comfort, and the Calli have always, well, had always been rather sensitive around the neck and
head regions. Your parents were calming each other down, I think, Minion said. I think if you
had any sort of...of mind powers, it would have been kinda obvious by now.
Oh.
Is there some reason you---
No! Megamind said sharply. No, he said again, more quietly. No reason. I just wondered.
Minion glanced at Sir, who was staring out the window again. He was going to take a closer look
at his head when they got home.

Chapter End Notes

Yeah, I know, I know. What are the odds that in a city of millions, he just happens to
run into the girl who will become the love of his life? One should use dreams
cautiously in stories, but I always kind of liked the idea of Roxanne literally being the
girl of his dreams.
To borrow a phrase from the movie: Let's have fun with this, come on! And I will get
back to you. ;)

Family Matters
Chapter Notes

This chapter features the warden, because I thought it was only fair to show his side
of things. The song lyrics that Megamind sings (or shouts) come from "T.N.T." by
AC/DC.

It had been a bad moment when the police asked for current photographs of the fugitives and
Parker couldn't find any. It wasn't as if anyone would have trouble recognizing them, but
photographs would lend credibility to the news that aliens were on the loose.
After some rummaging in his desk he finally uncovered one, from about three or four years
previously. It showed Megamind bent over a circuit board with a soldering wand, a look of eager
intent on his face that was so different from his usual sneer. It wouldn't do, of course, the photo
was a little too old and didn't really give a very good view of his features anyway. Minion wasn't
even in the shot. Parker stared at it. He didn't remember who had taken the photo. He suddenly
felt extremely tired and had to sit down.
The room was quiet but John Parker could not trust himself to speak. His throat was too tight. One
of the police officers shifted his weight, and there was a muffled cough.
Schmidt took over. We don't have mug shots. I'll give you their descriptions. Will that do?
Parker gave the prison's security chief a grateful look. Schmidt gave a little nod back and led the
officers out of the room to call in a sketch artist.
Parker sighed and tossed the photograph onto the desk, next to the miniaturized coffee cup. He
took out a handkerchief and blew his nose. He had no idea how the boy had managed to shrink all
the cups and plates in his office, but it's meaning was clear enough. Megamind might as well as
have written Screw you on the wall.
It was amazing, he thought, how children could make you feel such anger and worry and grief, all
at the same time.

Certainly there was no shortage of photographs now. It seemed like there was a new one featured
on the news every other night. Catching the alien fugitives on camera was practically a new citywide past time for a while, until people realized it brought a real chance of getting mugged, or
blasted into cube form, after which there was a considerable cooling of enthusiasm.
All the photos did nothing to bring them any closer to capture. Despite their life-long
institutionalization, Megamind and Minion were showing a remarkable ability to avoid the police.
At first Parker hoped that the shock of being on their own in the confusing, sprawling city would
bewilder them enough to lead to an early apprehension, but no such luck.

Though avoiding the police, Parker thought grimly, was probably not too difficult. He couldn't
help but track their movements. He bought a city map, and marked down all confirmed sightings.
He got rather excited when he saw the cluster of dots in the neighborhood of the public library.
Naturally, Megamind would be drawn there like a moth to a flame. There was no sign that anyone
had been breaking into the library, but Parker managed to convince the police to set up a stakeout.
Out of curiosity, Parker drove casually by the library, just to see how the stakeout was being
conducted. He drove home fuming.
Even he spotted the unmarked car! And the black and white squad cars stood out like goddamn
lighthouses. The boy probably saw them a mile away. Did they think Megamind would just walk
up and surrender?
Not surprisingly, the police did not catch so much as a glimpse of the fugitives. Three different
bookstores were robbed that week. It was always the same. The store employees would arrive in
the morning to find the doors unlocked, the security system dead, and a chunk of their inventory
gone. The university library was robbed, too. Twice.
He knew the police would not appreciate being told how to do their job, and he knew he had been
overreaching his authority by insisting on that stakeout, but he called Detective Buford anyway,
and, very tactfully, suggested that maybe the stakeout was just a bit too obvious. Later that day the
police captain called Parker and told him to stop harassing his officers. Very tactfully, of course.
We will keep you informed of our progress on the case, he was told. We appreciate your concern
for your wards, but we expect to have them in hand soon. Wayne Scott has agreed to scout out the
library and surrounding regions every night, after he finishes his homework and gets permission
from his parents. If anyone can catch them, he was told, then our Wayne can!
Parker thought the police department was beginning to depend far too much on young Wayne
Scott. Super powers were no substitute for real police work.

They'd escaped from prison the very night before Joyce was released from the mental ward at the
hospital. She had been hoping to re-establish some sort of relationship with them, to visit them
again as she once had, before her depression made even the smallest tasks overwhelming.
Parker tried to shield his wife as much as possible, but there were some things that couldn't be
hidden. He couldn't hide her from the news. She passively, relentlessly, watched every newscast,
and he knew that she was keeping track of their movements, counting every break-in and
mugging they were accused of. Whenever some new photo was aired, she'd just sigh. Sometimes
she'd leave the room abruptly, go into the bedroom and close the door.

About four weeks after Megamind and Minion escaped, Joyce made a surprise request.
You want to formally adopt him? John Parker said. He stared at his wife in amazement. So
many problems sprang to mind that he hardly knew where to begin.
Joyce was sitting on the bed. It was late, and Parker was getting ready for bed. Joyce anxiously
twisted her hands together on her lap. Minion too, she said. You always forget Minion.

I do not, Parker said, stung. But Minion isn't the problem, Joyce. You haven't seen him in nine
years. He's not a sweet little boy anymore. You should hear the mouth he's got on him now. Boy
doesn't respect anybody...
I'm not stupid, she snapped. It's not like I think adopting him will turn him into an angel, I want
to do it because it's the right thing to do.
Parker walked over to the window. He felt, irrationally, angry. He was the one who had brought
up the issue of adoption, years ago. Joyce was the one who said she couldn't handle another child,
and he'd had to agree. Even before the alien space pod landed in the prison yard and further
complicated their lives she'd been showing very strong signs of being...overstressed.
He picked idly at the frost on the windowpane. The days were slowly getting longer, but it was
the time of year when everyone was weary of the cold and the snow, and the darkness.
He struggled with himself for a while, then decided to focus on the most immediate issue.
I think it's a little too late for adoption. And it's not like we can take them home with us, Joyce.
They may not have had criminal records before, but they will now.
But they've been in prison all this time, Joyce said. Won't the courts take that into account?
Parker ran a hand through his hair and sighed. I think they probably won't, he said. He's not
exactly acting like a frightened runaway. That doesn't help. And Minion just goes along with
everything.
But Blue deserves a chance, they can't just---
He doesn't answer to that name anymore! Parker flared. He couldn't help himself. He should
have been more frank with her about this whole situation, but he'd been trying to protect her, and
the doctors were always saying how he mustn't upset her.
How could you let him pick such a ridiculous name, John! 'Megamind.' It sounds like something
out of a comic book.
Oh, you think he listens to me? I don't have any influence over him, he's impossible to control,
he---
Well, you know all about control, don't you? she shot back.
What's that supposed to mean? he snapped. But Joyce turned away and shook her head. He
stared at her silent profile for a moment, then he left the room before he could say something he'd
regret.
He stomped down the stairs. Their daughter Melanie was doing some college coursework at the
dining room table. Their youngest, Sam, was sprawled on the sofa watching TV. Parker frowned.
Sam should be in bed, it was a school night, but he was sick and tired of always being the one
ordering everyone around. Melanie looked up at his heavy footsteps.
Everything all right, Dad?
He had to get out of the house. I'm going for a drive, he muttered. She started to stand up, but he
grabbed his overcoat out of the closet and went out to the garage. He was so angry he almost
forgot to open the garage door before he backed the car up. Then he went.
He drove. So this was the thanks he got, for practically being a single parent all this time. Accused
of being a control freak. She'd accused him of being over-controlling before, when he had to tell

her why he'd kicked Daniel out. Why do you have to be so strict? she'd said, as if their eldest
son's drug use were just some little quirk that happened to bug him. That was when she had been
in that facility up north, two years ago. She wondered why he didn't give Dan another chance, and
he explained that he'd already given Dan chances. Five rounds of rehab were plenty of chances.
He could have had Dan arrested, for dealing drugs right out of their house. Hell, if the cops had
raided the place, the whole family could have been taken to jail, because of the new draconian
laws that made everyone in a house with drugs in it vulnerable to prosecution.
Instead of calling the police, he just told Dan to get out, and to never contact anyone in the family
again. Danny didn't even try to deny it, he just grabbed the paper sack out of his father's hand,
packed a duffel bag and left.
Parker warned Melanie and Sam to hang up if Dan ever called, which he still had the nerve to do
occasionally, to ask for money. Parker suspected that Melanie sometimes sent her brother money,
but he simply didn't have the strength to confront her about it.
And now Joyce was talking about adopting Megamind and Minion! God, how many criminals did
one family need? At least Megamind wasn't a drug dealer, so far as Parker knew.
Just a thief and a carjacker, he said out loud, almost cheerfully. He smacked the steering wheel
and shook his head. Talking to himself was not a good sign.
Still, Joyce could be right. Adoption, even at this late stage, probably was the right thing to do.
Would Minion be his son, then, too? It was strange to think about, but he supposed so. The main
problem would be convincing a court, or review board, or whoever it was that decided these
things, that Minion was a person and not a pet...
What was he THINKING! Adoption wasn't going to solve anything. But it nagged at him. He
imagined discussing it with them, once they were caught, of course. Megamind would probably
laugh in his face.
Why couldn't Megamind understand? Everything I've done, I've done to try to keep him safe.
And now Megamind was out. He made the national news, which worried Parker. The last thing
he wanted was for those somber government men to come around again, asking serious questions.
We were assured the alien would be adequately contained. Who, pray tell, is now on a major
crime spree? It does not look like he is being adequately contained to us .
He'd done the best he could, for both him and Dan, and it wasn't good enough. Thinking of his
eldest son made Parker angry all over again. All the effort he'd expended, trying to get Dan to give
up the drug lifestyle he was so grimly determined to embrace. Dan had every opportunity to do
something with his life, and squandered every chance.
Parker stopped the car at a curb that overlooked the wharf. He looked out over frozen, snowcovered Lake Michigan for a long time, as the car slowly cooled and he could see his breath
fogging the air.
The main problem with storming out of the house in a huff, is that sooner or later you have to go
back. Parker looked gloomily at the car's clock. It was a little after midnight. With luck, everyone
would be asleep by the time he returned.
He should really fill the tank, though Knowing he was delaying, he started the car and began
looking around for a gas station.

Ronnie's face brightened when he saw the familiar van pull up. All right. This physics homework
was a bitch.
While Minion filled the tank, Megamind went into the station building. He leaped through the
doors.
Cuz I'm T-N-T! I'm dyn-o-MITE! he shouted, playing air guitar. Good evening Ronnie! How's
the lawyer biz? He laughed.
Ronnie chuckled along, a bit nervously. Last week when he told Megamind and Minion that he
was planning on going to law school they'd burst into laughter. Minion did back flips in his bowl,
guffawing. Megamind had been in real danger of falling onto the floor.
You'll---you'll have to review our case! Minion said, still laughing.
Well, Ronnie, Megamind had gasped, wiping tears from his eyes, we definitely could use more
lawyers like you around! Ronnie, perplexed, had giggled uncertainly. He didn't see what was so
funny, but it was safest to go along with it.
Megamind graciously did his homework for him, declaring that he could have done it in his sleep,
and left the same generous amount of cash as last time. Ronnie told himself it was okay, since he
wouldn't really need to know any of this junk once he was a lawyer. At first Megamind had tried
to explain a few things, something to do with 'quantum', but at Ronnie's dumbfounded look, he
grew impatient, shoved Ronnie to the side, and did the work himself.
Megamind walked up to the counter with five packages of snack cakes and two bags of potato
chips. What do you have tonight? He pulled out a small roll of twenties and tossed it at Ronnie.
Physics, Ronnie said, showing him the ten page homework packet.
Megamind raised an eyebrow. I see you haven't even tried to work on anything. Just as well, he
said, shrugging. Saves me the trouble of erasing everything, huh? He chuckled again and jabbed
Ronnie in the ribs with a pointy elbow. Ronnie grinned sheepishly. He rang up the prices for the
food, and the gas. Minion had just finished filling the tank. Minion got in the van. Ronnie knew he
would park it behind the station.
Whistling, Megamind laid his coat on the counter and read through the worksheets. He seemed to
be taking a long time. Ronnie shifted a bit uneasily. Megamind usually didn't stick around for
long. This homework was due tomorrow. Megamind had a distant look in his eye. He was
obviously thinking of something else.
Minion came in the back door. He picked up one of the potato chip bags and walked over to the
snack aisle. Ronnie wandered over.
Put this on the tab, okay? Minion said, showing him a box of granola bars. Ronnie nodded.
Hey, how's it goin'? Ronnie said. Minion was really okay, once you got past the teeth that
seemed to follow you around the room, and he didn't scowl at Ronnie so much anymore. Minion
smiled.
Goin' pretty good, Minion said. Idly he gave the rack of sunglasses a spin. So, you got any
brothers or sisters?
Yeah, two older brothers, said Ronnie. Megamind was leafing through one of Ronnie's
notebooks. Then he started writing in it.

Uh... said Ronnie, taking half a step toward the counter.

They live in Metro City, too? asked Minion.
Uh, one does, said Ronnie. He whirled back toward the counter at the sound of ripping paper.
Megamind was muttering to himself. He balled up the paper and started scribbling on another one.
What do they do? Minion asked.
One...one's an intern at Metro General, the other lives in New York, he does something on Wall
Street, hey, are those my notes? 'Cause I really need---
He's just using some blank pages to jot down some ideas, Minion said, opening the chip bag.
Probably. I wouldn't worry about it. So those are some pretty big footsteps to follow in, huh? he
said, raising his voice over the sound of more ripping paper.
Uh, it's due...due tomorrow, Ronnie said, as loudly as he dared. Megamind looked around as if
surprised to find himself there. He frowned a little and Ronnie almost wished he hadn't said
anything. I'm sorry. But...please? Ronnie said, gulping.
Megamind raised an eyebrow slightly and one corner of his mouth quirked up. With an
exaggerated sigh he picked up the homework packet again and started on the first problem.
What made you decide on law? asked Minion.
Well...lawyers make a lot of money, said Ronnie. My parents said it was a good field.
Hm, said Minion. He held a handful of chips above his containment unit. He opened the dome,
poked his head out, and neatly snapped them out of the metallic fingers. He crunched.
Lots of ways to make money, said Minion. He gave the sunglass rack another twirl. And some
things are more important than money.
Oh, brother, thought Ronnie. I've heard that before. Oh, yeah? Ronnie muttered, looking at the
litter of wadded up papers on the counter. Like what?
Well, freedom's nice, said Minion, reaching into the bag again. He looked at Minion in surprise,
then glanced at Megamind, bent intently over the work that Ronnie should be doing.
There was a brief flash of headlights as a car pulled into the gas station's driveway.
Car, Sir! Minion said sharply, fins flaring. He headed for the exit.
Megamind grabbed some of the uncrumpled papers he'd torn out of Ronnie's notebook, the
snacks, and his coat and was at the back door before Minion could even reach it.
You're on your own, Ronnie! Megamind called, and then they were gone. To the
accompanying, distant squeal of tires, Ronnie began clearing up the litter. He looked gloomily at
the unfinished homework. Damn. Megamind had only done two pages.

Parker pulled in at the slightly obscenely named Kum 'n Go. He heard the sound of tires
screeching behind the store and he huffed out a breath in annoyance. Too many nuts driving
around these days, always making a racket. After filling the tank he went in to pay.

The young man behind the counter was picking up some rubbish. A couple of text books were off
to the side.
Still accept checks? Parker asked. He had a couple of blank checks in his wallet. Parker filled it
out while the kid rang it up. He recognized one of the books from a course that Melanie had taken
last year.
Going to university then? he asked.
Yeah, the kid said.
Parker handed him the check. His automatic parental responses were activated now. He had to
ask. You pick a major yet?
Yeah, I'm pre-law.
Now Parker was genuinely interested. Really. Well, maybe we'll run into each other again
sometime. Similar fields.
The young man looked at him. Oh, you a lawyer, sir?
No, I'm the warden at the prison, Parker said. He frowned a little. Was it his imagination or did
the kid go a little pale?
The young man grinned broadly. Really! he said shrilly. Parker thought the kid's voice was a
little too loud.
Why are you taking these science classes, if you're pre-law? If you don't mind me asking.
The kid chuckled nervously. They make you take all these pre-requisites. They're hard. But I got
a...a tutor.
Parker nodded slowly. Well, that's good. Have a good night.
He went back to his car.
He didn't waste too much time wondering why that kid had been so nervous. Some people did act
a little strange sometimes, when they found out what his profession was, as if they were afraid he
were trying to find out what they'd done wrong. Police officers often got reactions like that. But if
that young man were going to be a lawyer, he'd better toughen up.

Shadowboxing
How would you like your own aquarium, Minion? Megamind asked, paging through the
sketchbook. There was a loud clatter as the broom hit the floor and Megamind looked up in
surprise.
You wouldn't put me in a tank, would you, Sir? Minion cried, face full of dismay. And it was a
face that had a lot of room to be dismayed in.
Megamind chuckled. I'm not going to trap you in it, he said. It would be a really big aquarium,
for you to go into and out of whenever you liked. See? I've drawn up a few plans.
Minion clumped over to the table and looked over his shoulder. Megamind excitedly flipped
through the pages. Here's the lock mechanism, just like a canal lock, that'll rise up to the height of
your containment unit, so you can swim into it, and it'll lower you down. Unless you happen to
like jumping in and out of your robot suit, that's always an option.
Minion's eyes widened at the elaborate drawings. The tank was the size of a small swimming
pool. It was big enough to hold fifteen thousand gallons at least. Here and there were waving
plants, and rocks, and castles on a pebbled floor. There were some rooms attached to the inner
walls. On one end of the aquarium was the lock, on the other end was a filtration system. The
beach ball was a nice touch.
These are the buttons that you can operate yourself from the inside, with your nose or your fins,
see, to control all the features of the lock, filters, lights, and temperature. You can decorate it any
way you want, do you like the castles? We could even put some live fish in it if you ever felt like
hunting down your own dinner! Megamind laughed. Minion still hadn't said anything.
Megamind glanced at him, feeling a touch uneasy. Had he overstepped some unspoken boundary?
Well, Minion, what do you--
It's beautiful! Minion cried, grabbing Megamind in a bone-crushing hug. Megamind squawked.
OH! Sorry, Sir! Minion said, hurriedly dropping him. My own tank! he said, beaming at the
drawings.
He had hated it whenever they stuck him in that rotten aquarium in the warden's office. It
separated him from his beloved friend and master, and there was no more awful feeling than that,
and yet...and yet...in the secret recesses of his heart, it was a little bit nice, just a little bit, to have
room to swim back and forth, even in the rather smallish tank, to get out of the confines of the
containment unit and move around under his own power, to stretch his fins, without the robot suit.
Which was an excellent suit, no one could have provided him with a better means for getting
around in this land-locked world. But this aquarium was going to be sweet.
He was so touched that Megamind had been planning this great undertaking just for him that he
almost hugged him again but he curbed his enthusiasm. He didn't want to break anything.
Megamind coughed and straightened his shirt, grinning. Yes, well, it'll be a while before we can
get it installed. I still have to figure out how to get running water for this place.
While Minion, humming, went to heat up some leftovers for supper, Megamind ripped out the
pages for the aquarium and tacked them to the overflowing bulletin board. Several clippings from
magazines and newspapers, featuring himself as the subject, hung from strings in the ceiling and
spun gently in the air currents.

The van was repainted black. They'd spent an enjoyable, if cold, few days on the main floor
changing the spark plugs and brake pads, fixing the struts, and basically making it into a vehicle
worth owning. Minion once muttered something about 'wasting time on a piece of junk,' but
Megamind scolded him. His first genuinely owned mode of transportation was special. Anything
he didn't have to hot wire was his. He had the keys for it, therefore he owned it. The manner in
which it was obtained was just circumstances. And the rust hole on the driver's side was a little
one. He really should get around to welding a metal plate over it, though.
He sighed. A welder was another item on his ever-growing list.
There were a few other projects that were coming along, and one or two that were complete and
needed a workout. He wandered over to one of the workbenches and picked up the electro-whip.
Megamind pressed the button and turned it on. Minion glanced over at the sound of the crackle.
Tell me again how that thing is any better than a taser, he said dryly.
Megamind snorted. He flicked the glowing strand through the air. It made a very satisfying whine.
It's a lot cooler, for one thing, and intimidating! This'll get people hopping!
Just keep it away from me is all I ask, Minion muttered. Megamind was too busy attacking the
mannequin to pay attention.
--------Later, Megamind sat with his head propped on his hand, watching critically as Minion handled the
knitting needles.
So....what is that again? he asked, grinning.
Well, it's supposed to be a hat, Minion said, holding his handiwork up to the light. Megamind's
smirk faded. He was going to have to deflect another attempt to bundle him. So far he had
successfully fended off the scarves, the mittens, and the ear muffs. While Minion's fashion sense
was really quite good, he was being extremely single-minded in his pursuit to keep Sir warm, and
fashion did not figure into Minion's calculations. Megamind had to concede, though, that
sometimes scarves came in handy when they needed to hide their identities.
He watched Minion for another few moments, frowning. He could hear a faint creaking coming
from the robotic hands, and they didn't look as nimble as they ought to. He walked over, grabbed
Minion's hand, and looked closely at the fingers. Corrosion was visible in the joints.
These will have to be cleaned out, he said. He found a toothbrush and a metal scouring pad.
Well, can't I finish the hat first? Minion protested.
Megamind trapped one metal arm under his armpit and began scrubbing.
No, he said curtly. This junk has got to go. You'll have much better range of movement.
Half an hour later he was still scrubbing. He scowled and moved the metal fingers one by one.
Minion twirled idly in his bowl atop the suit and hummed a little. Is it going to be much longer,
Sir? he asked.
How old is this thing anyway? Megamind muttered to himself. The suit itself was not very old,
but the metal it was made from was getting rusty. He should have made a new suit for Minion a
long time ago.

A new robotic body is just the thing, Minion, he said. And I know a place that'll have some of
the stuff we'll need for it. There was a great deal he could do for himself, but some computer
circuitry was easier to steal than produce. He'd been wanting to see what that new electronics
company would have for him anyway. This was the perfect occasion to pay them a visit.
He yawned and rubbed his eyes. What time is it, Minion?
You've been awake for over thirty-two hours, Sir, Minion said, a little reproachfully.
I didn't ask that, I asked what time it was, Megamind said haughtily. He felt smug. He could
stay up as late as he wanted now. There was no one to shout Lights out! and make him go to
bed, though Minion tried, of course.
Almost nine, I guess, Minion said. P.M. he added.
I'm going to sleep, Megamind announced, and threw himself down on the cot. Minion went to
his corner to power down.
-------------------Stan the delivery man pulled in to the back of the Polar North Warehouse. It was after ten o'clock
already, he noticed with annoyance. The boss was getting after them lately to cut down on the
overtime, but sometimes you had to put in the extra hours to get the deliveries finished. He'd just
come all the way back from the Southdale Mall, after unloading four freezers. If Hugo got on his
case again, he was seriously thinking about quitting.
He went to the back of the delivery truck to remove the straps and pallets. He began to pull out the
pallet that was closest to the door when a noise from deep within the truck made him jump.
Someone was snoring back there!
Stan climbed in and stared at the man for a minute. He edged forward, and made a face. The guy
reeked of alcohol. Where did he come from? Stan had left the truck wide open for, oh, maybe
twenty minutes or so, while he chatted with the clerks about how sucky the job market was. He
felt no embarrassment over the fact that he could have gotten back to the warehouse well before
ten if he hadn't been gabbing. Complaining was a job perk that was practically a right.
But now this drunk had wandered right into the truck and passed out! There was a bar and grill
next to the department store. Is that where he'd wandered in from? Stan roughly shook the guy's
shoulder. Groaning, he rolled over and blinked at Stan.
You can't sleep here, man, Stan said.
The drunk groaned again. 'Kay, he murmured.
Stan shook his head in irritation. This guy must have come from that bar and grill, which meant
that he must have parked there, too. Stan wasn't about to drive all the way back to Southdale just
to drop this guy off at his car. Maybe he could call him a cab.
Hey, you want to wait inside? Stan asked.I'll call you a cab. I gotta clock out.
'Kay, the man murmured again, but made no move to get up. Stan hesitated, then unloaded the
pallets. He went inside, clocked out, and turned in the truck keys. When he came out again, the
drunk was gone. He looked up and down the street for a minute, then gave up and went home. He
couldn't help but feel a little concerned, but what could you do? He couldn't go wandering around
the maze of streets looking for some stranger. That guy was on his own.

-------------------------Logan staggered down the block. This street looked sort of familiar. If he could just find Connie's
place, he was sure he'd be able to explain everything, if, if, if she would just listen for once, and
that woman had to understand what a man needs, it was biology, it was natural for a guy to look
around a little...
Logan struggled on, wondering why none of the dang sidewalks had been shoveled.
-------------------------Connie! Connie-e-e-e!
Megamind swam up from the depths of sleep to the woeful sounds of Logan's call. He raised his
head, then as the banging on the front door continued, he sprang up and dizzily bumped into the
nearest floor lamp and turned it on. Minion was blowing bubbles in his sleep.
Minion! Megamind hissed, scrabbling around the debris on the table for the de-gun. Minion
continued to drift, oblivious. Megamind walked over and smacked the metallic chest. The sharp
noise finally woke Minion up.
Wha... he gurgled.
Someone's outside! Megamind whispered fiercely. Are the doors locked?
Think so. What is it, police? Minion said, blinking and shaking himself so his fins fluttered.
The pounding from upstairs was a steady beat as they hurried up the stairs to the factory's main
floor.
Megamind's head felt full of cotton balls and it was hard to think. He'd barely dropped off to sleep,
and now this fool was outside, bleating like some lost...lost fluffy thing.
How long has he been out there? Megamind demanded hoarsely. From the dim light that shone
through the translucent window he could see his breath clouding the air. Already the tip of his
nose felt cold, and his fingertips were tingling.
I dunno, Sir, I was asleep, Minion said. The door rattled as the man tried the handle. He sounds
drunk, Sir. Maybe he'll go away soon.
Megamind paced around, tapping the de-gun against his thigh.
Come on, Connie, lemme in! the man brayed.
Megamind 'tch'-ed in annoyance. What's he doing here? The idiot is clearly lost. There aren't any
dwellings around here! Minion shrugged.
Megamind ran back downstairs. When he came back up he had the electro-whip in his hand.
Minion blinked in alarm. Sir, wait, I really think we should just wait for him to go away. If he
sees...
I'm not waiting for him to pass out on the doorstep! Megamind said grimly. He headed for the
back door. Don't worry, Minion, he won't see me. He gave an evil grin, but Minion was,
somehow, not reassured.
Megamind opened the back door just enough to slip outside. Even so, the hinges creaked and

Megamind opened the back door just enough to slip outside. Even so, the hinges creaked and
groaned alarmingly. The snow was packed down hard. There was no wind, but the frigid air
penetrated his clothes almost immediately. He cursed himself for not thinking to even put on
gloves. He stretched the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. The fabric was pulled tight, didn't
help at all, and caused the rest of the shirt to ride up his armpits. Impatiently he yanked it off again.
There was a narrow trail through the crusted snow of the alley that he and Minion had made when
they last inspected the building, and he stepped carefully in the old footprints, trying to avoid the
crunchy bits.
He needn't have worried about alerting his prey. The drunken fool was unaware of his approach.
He flattened himself against the wall and peered around the corner. The man had left off knocking
on the door and was stumbling up and down the sidewalk, slapping his hands against his arms in
an effort to warm himself. Megamind wondered if the man were a ruse to draw them out, but who
would try such a thing? The cops didn't operate like that, they were always so obvious and official
with their bullhorns and flashing lights, as if to make absolutely, positively sure that the criminals
had a sporting chance, and that everyone knew where they stood on the game board.
A ruse by some criminal gang? Somehow this level of cleverness---and it was sub-level, really--seemed beyond the mental abilities of the average Metrocity criminal. He and Minion had a few
near-encounters with muggers, but once a mugger got close enough to realize that the intended
targets were the fugitive aliens, he unfailingly turned into a non-mugger, casually becoming an
innocent passer-by out for a walk, heading in the opposite direction. Neither Megamind nor
Minion were fooled. Having been on the receiving end of hostility, they could spot the predatory
approach, the aura of threatened violence, and would brace themselves for trouble. Usually all that
was needed was for the potential attacker or attackers to get a good look at who they were
stalking, to see Minion clenching his massive fists, and to see Megamind casually reaching into his
pocket, for them to decide that they really should look for an easier mark.
Once a man leaped out of an alley at them with a gun. He hadn't known who he was attacking,
and to find himself suddenly confronted by Minion's bulk and Megamind's incredibly handsome
features, almost did a back flip in mid-air, so anxious was he to rectify his mistake. Minion took
advantage of his surprise and ripped the gun out of his hand. The man took a second to count his
fingers, then fled.
A few times they even saw men that they'd known from the prison, but they were not on friendly
terms with any of these particular ex-cons. After some mutual glares from a distance, they went
their separate ways without speaking.
Drug dealers were more annoying, and pushier, and Megamind had to dehydrate a few of them to
send a message to the rest that he was not interested in buying their wares.
If this drunken lout was part of some trick, it was awfully sloppy. He scanned the surrounding
buildings and the street. All was quiet.
Megamind pressed the button on the electro-whip. He grimaced a little at the slight whine it made
as it was activated, but when he glanced around the corner again, his prey had not seemed to
notice it. He waited until the man's back was turned, then stepped quickly around the bend and
struck. The tip of the electro-whip snaked through the air and caught the man squarely in the back.
Waugh! the drunk yelled. His body was completely surrounded by a brief burst of light, then he
collapsed.
YeeeeeEEES! Megamind crowed, jumping into the air and pumping his fist. He pounded on the
front door. Open up, Minion! I have immobilized the trespasser.
The front door squealed and complained as Minion came out. No door stayed closed if Minion

wanted it open. Megamind crouched down by his victim and pulled out a wallet from the man's
back pocket.
Is he all right? He's all right, isn't he, Sir? Minion asked. The voltage is pretty high.
Of course he is, Minion. He's breathing. The electro-whip has only a fraction of an amp, to
deliver the charge, Megamind said. He wrinkled his nose. The man stank of cigarettes and beer.
He rifled through the wallet until he found the driver's license.
Logan Wannamaker. 1208 Peach Tree Street, Metrocity. Where do you suppose that is?
Minion scratched his dome. Suburb maybe? he said.
Maybe, Megamind said. He stood up and looked up and down the street. So where's his car?
The street was devoid of any motorized vehicles. They took a brief walk around the neighboring
buildings, including the old fire station, but didn't find a car.
How did he get here? He couldn't have fallen out of the sky! Megamind cried, shoving his
frozen hands under his arms. He and Minion both automatically looked up. Any mention of flying
always brought thoughts of their super-powered nemesis, but it bordered on the ridiculous that this
drunken sot could have any relation to Wayne Scott. He marched back over to the unconscious
man and shot him with the de-gun. He picked up the little cube.
What are you going to do with him?
Oh, I don't know! I'll figure it out later. But I'm certainly not going to leave him out here until the
spring thaw! He'll just re-hydrate, as drunk as ever, crying for this Connie person. I want to try to
get some more sleep.
Y'know, these old buildings do sort of look like houses, Sir, Minion said thoughtfully. I
remember reading once in the paper, this one guy, this drunk, he actually broke into some
stranger's house and got into bed with the guy's wife and passed out! Minion laughed. He was
so drunk he didn't even know where he was! I think he got shot in the leg.
The only proper fate for trespassers, Megamind said haughtily.
----------------------

Two nights later they were all set for a raid on Tanaka Industries.
Why do you have to bring all this stuff, Sir? Minion complained. Megamind was trying to figure
out where to put the de-gun. All his pockets were full. The shoulder holster he'd hoped to use put
the gun at the perfect angle to jab him in the armpit with every other step so he threw it out.
Minion was going to be carrying four empty suitcases, though they would not be empty once they
came back to the hideout. Megamind didn't want to dehydrate anything they might find at the
robotics lab, which would then need to be re-hydrated later. It would be impossible to judge
exactly how much water to add. He might end up with a lot of sensitive equipment, sitting in
damp puddles.
Impatiently Megamind adjusted the tool belt. It was already heavy with the key-o-matic and lock
picks. He tried shoving the gun through the belt but found that he couldn't even sit down. The
pockets of the parka were stuffed with the smoke bombs, the grappling hook gun, and the electrowhip. And a few snacks. And two sets of small screwdrivers. And a small notebook and some
pens in case he got any ideas. It was a twenty-five minute drive, anything could happen.

We got backpacks, Minion pointed out.

Megamind cast a dubious eye over to the packs in question. They were camping backpacks, each
one nearly as tall as he was. Minion had casually schlepped them all over town during their
wandering period. On Minion they looked like knapsacks. Megamind had a feeling that, should he
don one of them, he'd look like an overloaded Sherpa.
I'll keep that in mind, Minion, the next time I decide to conquer Mr. Everest. You can carry the
gun, Megamind said. Minion looked at the four suitcases piled on his arms, but Megamind
opened the side panel in Minion's robotic suit. The de-gun just fit. He sealed the panel. The hidden
panel had been quite helpful during their prison days, until one guard, a bit brighter than the
others, had the realization that there were a lot of places on a robot body that could hide things.
After that Minion's suit was regularly searched for contraband.
There! In easy reach, though I doubt we'll need it, Megamind said. I want to see what effect
my electro-whip has on those dim-witted security guards!
What about the trespasser? Minion asked. The cube was still sitting on the fridge.
Hmph, Megamind grunted. He pocketed it. Oh, we'll just drop him off at the emergency room.
It's on the way.
------------------Tanaka Industries had a complex of buildings on the north side of town, its own compound, on a
new road. There was room for other companies to build on, but for the time being, Tanaka
Industries was alone, surrounded by open areas of white fields, with a few stands of trees that
would probably be torn down as soon as other businesses moved in and began building.
They parked the black van behind some convenient trees and climbed over the chain-link fence. It
was a big place. There was even a park with a walking path. The company wanted its employees
to be fit and happy. It took a minute to reach the main building. Megamind was beginning to wish
they had cut through the fence and driven straight up.
Megamind and Minion rounded the last corner and stopped short.
Three men were grouped around the back door.
They were not security guards. They were wearing ski masks.
One was sitting with a laptop on a little stand. Wires led from the computer to the door. One man
was wearing a dark blue outfit with white racing stripes on the sides. The third man was all in
black, with a face mask that showed only his eyes, like a ninja. He uncrossed his arms in a
decidedly non-casual way.
Oh. This is...awkward... Megamind said, taking a step back.
Freezer Burn! Get them! the ninja barked.
The guy in blue and white lifted his arms. Beams of white shot from his hands. Minion dropped
the suitcases and shoved Megamind to the side and out of the way of the beams. Even so,
Megamind felt the force of the freezing rays, like frostbite on his bare face. Minion was hit in the
chest. Ice encased his torso, and the side panel.
Minion grunted and staggered back. From deep within the robotic core there was a high pitched

whine as the temp regulators kicked into overdrive.

Haugh! Minion coughed, then he snarled and charged. Shards of ice broke and fell from his
massive arms and shoulders in his own private avalanche, which is how he descended on Freezer
Burn.
Megamind stared in surprise. He'd known his design was good, but Minion was showing some
unexpected resilience.
The man in black was coming. Megamind backpedaled, digging in his pocket for the electrowhip.
Freezer Burn yelled as Minion grabbed him. Ice rays shot wildly in all directions. Ice formed,
broke, and fell around Minion. Frost crackled and spread over his containment unit, but he looked
very determined to do some damage.
Ninja guy was forced to dodge the occasional ice beam, but he was closing in on Megamind fast.
Megamind yanked the whip free, lit it up, and struck. The man dodged. Electricity snapped as it
hit the ground where the man had been standing. The man rolled and leaped. Megamind whirled.
The man was already beside him, knocking the electro-whip out of his hand. It clattered against a
wall.
Megamind ducked the swing aimed at his face. Crouching low, he immediately struck at the man's
groin. When you're the smallest guy in the yard, notions like 'keeping it above the belt' tend to be
the first casualties. Unfortunately ninja guy seemed to have graduated from the same school of
dirty fighting. He turned aside from Megamind's attack so he received no more than a glancing
blow on his hip. Megamind barely twisted out of the way of the incoming kick. He ducked
another blow, then faked throwing a punch, and dodged to the side. What did he have? Smoke
bombs. If he could get behind--The man's foot shot out, and hooked Megamind's ankle, tripping him up so he staggered. The next
blow caught Megamind in the solar plexus and the wind was knocked out of him.
Bam! Wham! Two more hits to face and head sent him sprawling to the ground. The man in black
yanked him to his feet and twisted his arm behind him, and Megamind felt the edge of a very
sharp knife pressed to his throat. He couldn't see the knife but he sure could feel it It felt like the
kind of knife that could cut you if you even looked at it. He was pinned against the bigger man's
chest.
Your buddy's name Minion? the man said in a low voice over his head.
Y...Yes, Megamind gasped.
The man forced Megamind to turn so they were both facing the embattled Minion and Freezer
Burn. Freezer Burn was screaming. Minion was shaking him like a rag doll.
Hey, Minion! ninja man bellowed.
Minion whirled in his bowl, and stopped in mid-snarl. Megamind would never forget the look of
horror on his face, though he often tried.
Let him go, the man ordered. Put your hands up.
Minion dropped Freezer Burn and raised his arms. Freezer Burn sat groaning on the ground. After
a moment he scooted a bit further away from Minion and slowly got to his feet.

Brad, get over here, the man said.

Computer guy had wedged himself into the doorway during the fight. He stepped out and came
over quickly.
Empty his pockets.
Brad's shaky hands pulled everything out of Megamind's coat pockets. He took out the notebook.
The screwdrivers. The smoke bombs. The snack packs. The grappling hook gun.
As item after item was produced the man snorted. Where's the kitchen sink? he said.
Brad sniggered. Even Freezer Burn, rubbing his head, forced out a chuckle. Ah. A clever joke
from the boss, Megamind thought sourly.
Under his coat, too, the man ordered. Brad unzipped the parka, unbuckled Megamind's tool belt
and held it up.
Put it down over there, ninja man said.
Under the man's instructions, Brad awkwardly patted Megamind down, fumbled in Megamind's
jean pockets and emptied them as well.
Get that whip, the man said. Brad dutifully picked it up from where it lay by the wall. He
touched the button that turned it on. It gave a little whine and a spark, but it didn't activate. It was
broken.
Let me see that stapler thing, said the man, nodding at the key-o-matic. Brad held it up and
inspected it. So what does it do?
I don't know, Shadow, I've never---
I wasn't asking you, I was talking to our little friend here, Shadow said. Megamind shot a
panicky look at Minion. He couldn't tell this guy about his inventions. It was his stuff. His eyes cut
over to the panel that hid the de-gun. It was completely iced over. So close. So useless. The gun
itself might even be frozen. Minion would never get to it in time.
Shadow was not happy with his hesitation. You have three seconds to answer, he said quietly.
One. Two.
Oh crap. He was going to have to give in.
It's a...a... he managed.
The man cut his neck. Megamind shrieked and nearly jumped out of the man's grip, but Shadow
tightened his hold.
Minion cried NO! and stepped forward.
Brad took one look at the blood and fell down in a dead faint.
Don't move! Shadow roared, nearly deafening him. Get back! he shouted at Minion. Or I'll
cut him again!
Minion was leaning forward, looking like he might leap right out of the bowl. With effort,
growling, Minion stepped back and raised his hands again.

Shadow said, It wasn't your jugular, genius. If it was, you'd---

That wasn't three seconds! Megamind blurted out. You forget how to count, you sadistic---
He clamped his lips shut, too late. Outrage had momentarily taken control of his mouth.
There was a brief, heavy silence.
Do you want to die? Shadow said in a low voice.
Is that a rhetorical question? Megamind thought wildly. Blood was soaking into his collar.
It's a key-o-matic, it opens locks and disables the security system, Minion said loudly.
Now we're getting somewhere, Shadow said. Was that so hard? Was that so difficult?
Goddamit! Freezer Burn, get your ass over here and wake him up.
Freezer Burn made a wide circle around Minion and hurried over to the recumbent Brad. He
turned him over onto his back and roughly shook his shoulder. Hey Hey, man, wake up.
Brad groaned and sat up. He glanced at Megamind's bloody neck and hurriedly looked away
again.
Get over there. Sit down and put your head between your knees, Shadow said disgustedly.
Useless. The both of you. I have to do everything. Useless. Freezer Burn shuffled about a little
and looked at the ground.
Not my fault, he mumbled. How'm I supposed... His voice trailed away under Shadow's
withering glare.
Eyes averted, Brad scuttled back to the safety of the doorway. Shadow sighed. For a few
moments he was lost in thought. Then he said, All right. I'm in a forgiving mood. I can tell you're
new at this, boy. I guess even little blue freaks have to go through an awkward teenage phase.
Brad began a strained chuckle, but seemed unable to decide if laughter was expected at this point,
and gave it up.
I'll tell you what, Shadow said. I'm going to let you and your goon off the hook. Just get out of
here and go home. Leave your things. I'm sure I'll find uses for them. I'll let you leave with your
precious little lives, okay? Okay. Go home and put yourself to bed like a good boy. Minion, you
go first. Keep your hands up, and get going. Now.
Minion walked past them. Shadow turned to face him, turning Megamind with him at knife point.
After Minion was well past, Shadow addressed his captive.
When I let go, start walking and don't look back or I'll kill you.
He let go of Megamind and he jerkily started forward.
Hold on, wait a sec, Shadow said, grabbing his collar. Megamind froze. Slowly, deliberately,
Shadow wiped the knife blade clean on Megamind's sleeve.
Okay. Now you can go, Shadow said, and smacked him on the butt. Megamind could hear the
smirk on the man's face. He obeyed, operating on automatic. He and Minion left, leaving the field
of battle to the winners.
---------------------

After they rounded the corner and passed the first of the outbuildings, Minion burst out Who
does that guy think he is! Son of a bitch. I can't believe he took everything. Have to get you
home.
Home. God, yes, he just wanted to go back to the pri--- to the hideout. He held one shaky hand
over the streaming cut. His head and cheek ached from the blows. His legs barely worked. All his
muscles seemed to have been replaced with rubber bands. He moved forward in a sort of highspeed lurch under the burning power of sheer humiliation. The ease with which Shadow had
taken him out was mortifying. He wanted to say something nonchalant, to show Minion it didn't
matter, that he could just shrug it off, but he had no energy for it. He was still trying to re-learn
how to breathe.
We'll need some Bactine, Minion muttered miserably. Band-aids. Hope you don't need
stitches. I can't believe he took everything. Don't you worry about it, Sir, you can replace all those
things.
Megamind gingerly removed his hand from his neck. The bleeding had stopped. There probably
wouldn't even be a scar, but it stung and throbbed like hell. It would take a far worse wound than
this to leave a mark. That was so close. If the knife had cut a centimeter more to the side...
He just wanted to go back to their hideout. He had no stomach for anything else tonight. Back to
the hideout, then, where it was safe.
He slowed to a stop. It had started to snow again, tiny hard flakes that bit where they landed. He
stared into the whirling snow. The night sky was black, as if it were a ceiling covered with crows.
Megamind could almost see the fluttering of their wings....
Minion looked at him, worry creasing his forehead.
What is it, Sir?
They were on a winding sidewalk, lined with old-fashioned street lights. The van was around the
next stand of trees. Safety beckoned. Megamind couldn't put his finger on it, but there was
something about the way Shadow insisted that he go straight home. It made him want to do
absolutely anything except go home.
He went over to the pool of light cast by one of the street lamps and pulled out his empty coat
pockets, examining them closely. Nothing left in them except lint. Minion watched, puzzled.
Megamind looked hard at the wrists of his coat sleeves, feeling every inch. He ripped off his coat
and peered at the collar, where Shadow had grabbed him, and there he found it, a little gray square
hidden under the collar's tag, clinging to the fabric like a tick.
A tracking device. He carefully peeled it off. Minion gasped. Megamind shot him a warning look
and made a chopping motion with his hand to keep quiet.
He turned it over. A tiny red light, like a firefly's glow, was on the underside. Megamind couldn't
tell if there was a microphone in there or not. He looked around. There was a garbage can about
half a block away. Megamind found a paper cup that was more or less on top of the refuse and
carefully placed the tracing device in it. His first overwhelming urge was to crush the thing, but
destroying it might have sent some sort of signal. A slow burn of rage grew in his chest.
He touched the neck wound as they continued their walk to the van. The image of the fox from
his nightmare came to mind, looking like roadkill, how it had whimpered, the blood trickling from
its neck, but it was a frickin' dream, it didn't mean anything, he wasn't going to go scampering
home because of some damn dream. He was seriously ticked off.

There was a girl in that dream, and not long afterwards he'd literally run into a girl who looked
like her but so what? Lots of girls had brown hair and blue eyes. That was just coincidence.
When they got to the van, he asked, The laundry bag in here, Minion?
Yeah, behind the seat. Megamind got into the back and kicked off his boots. He stripped off his
clothes. He didn't think Shadow could have slipped any more tracers on him, or that fumblefingered Brad, but he was not taking any chances. He was too agitated to conduct a thorough
search for more tracking devices. He flung the clothes at Minion.
Get rid of these. The coat, too. Oh, don't look at me like that! I'm sure you'll find me another one
that's equally large and coomb-ersome. The blood stain on the sleeve was a humiliating reminder
that he would just as soon get rid of anyway. He rooted around in the laundry bag until he found
some things that weren't too horrible and got dressed.
Minion smacked at the ice still clinging to his torso, cracking it and knocking it off. He popped
open the panel in his side and carefully took out the de-gun. Megamind shoved his feet into the
boots and hopped out of the van. He took the gun from Minion and inspected it. It was ice cold,
but appeared to be intact. The BINKEY power source inside it gave off its usual glow.
Get in, he ordered. Megamind climbed behind the wheel, reeking slightly of old clothes. Minion
got into the passenger side.
Home, Sir? Minion asked.
Of course not, Megamind snapped. Let's find their vehicle. They probably parked around...
Sir! Let's just go! You found the tracer, let's go back!
I am not going to go traipsing back to the hideout with that guy looking for us, trying to track us
down! Megamind said.
Sir, said Minion. Please. That guy is dangerous.
I can be dangerous, too, Minion, Megamind said, baring his teeth. He beat me up, stole my
inventions, he cut me, HE THINKS HE CAN GET AWAY WITH PUSHING ME AROUND,
I AM GOING TO SHOW HIM THE ERROR OF HIS WAYS!
Minion was trembling. But what are you going to do?! he wailed.
Megamind smiled his old evil smile. Don't worry, Minion, I merely wish to recover what is
rightfully mine. I'm certainly not going to cut his throat! I can be merciful. I shall simply turn the
situation back on him. He robbed me, so I shall rob him. Whatever it is that he's stealing from
Tanaka Industries, that shall be mine as well. Then HE will have to live with the sting of
humiliation!
It didn't take long to find the SUV. They parked the van a good distance away, and waited for
Shadow and his gang to come out.

Megamind Strikes Back

Chapter Notes

In the original draft of this story, the villain Shadow didn't even exist. I thought that
young Metro Man, the cops, and the weather were going to be Megamind's primary
concerns. And then one day Shadow showed up, smirking, and muscled his way in.
I would like to share a quote from Oscar Wilde:
"Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril."

The cube was discovered glowing innocently on the receiving nurse's desk in the emergency
room. No one knew how or when it had gotten there. There was a great deal of speculation on
what might be contained within it, but since all previously discovered cubes always proved to be
dehydrated citizens, someone finally got up the nerve to add water. Logan Wannamaker rematerialized on the mat, sputtering and bewildered.
Logan was quite drunk, and had no idea how he had ended up as an infamous dehydrated cube,
but was more than willing to explain to everyone that Connie had locked him out of the house.
Once it was clear, after much meandering discourse, that he was uninjured, the staff left him alone.
Unfortunately, he showed little inclination to leave, even when an orderly offered to call him a
cab, and even offered to pay for it.
He staggered around the waiting room, telling his story to anyone who was unlucky enough to be
in his path, until both patients and staff heartily wished he would leave already.
Anne, one of the nurses, heard bits and pieces of his tale of woe as she came and went about her
duties.
...Polar North Warehouse, and, and, and I thought 'Hey! I use ta work there, man!' and I looked
around in the truck, and bam! I wake up, and there I am, the ol' stomping grounds...
He'd cornered one of the orderlies, a young man who hadn't quite mastered the art of disengaging
himself from uncomfortable conversations.
...so I says, 'Connie, you gotta know, you got to know, she didn't mean nothin'....
But you said you were at your old work place, why did you think you were on Connie's street?
the young orderly said wearily.
Logan appeared unable to follow his line of reasoning. So I went by the old fire station, you
know, they're always sayin' they're fixing these old places up, waste of tax money you ask me,
anyone'll tell you. He belched. Nice picture on the wall. Nice horse painting.
The orderly, Benny, looked around in some desperation, and Anne took pity on him. She walked
over and said, Why don't you sit down for a while Mr. Wannamaker. You look tired.

After some urging, she got him to go sit in one of the waiting room chairs, and then she was called
to the back room to help find their back up supply of bandages, but while she was searching, she
began thinking to herself that there was only one way that Logan could have been dehydrated into
a cube. He must have run into Megamind, insulted him, like maybe he'd thrown up on his shoes or
something, and gotten shot with the de-gun.
Wasn't there a reward being offered for information leading to the capture of the alien?
Anne decided to engage Logan in conversation, as unpleasant as that might be, but when she went
out to the waiting room again, he was nowhere in sight. They'd been trying to get rid of him all
night, now when she actually wanted to talk to him, he was gone.
She scowled in frustration, and went to track down Benny.
Benny, did that drunk guy take off? she asked.
Yeah, I got him to tell me his address, and put him in a cab. Why?
She sighed and looked off into the distance. There was no way in hell that she was going to go to
the guy's house to question him, for crying out loud. She thought about the things she'd overheard
Logan say, about the Polar North warehouse, and a wall with a big horse mural on it. Would any
of that be of any use to the cops? She wasn't sure if phoning them with such vague second-hand
information would be much help. Would it be enough to get her the reward money, or at least a
piece of it? She'd have to think about it for a while.
------------------------Give me that! Megamind snapped, tearing the damp cloth out of Minion's hand. He peered into
the rear view mirror and began cleaning the dried blood off his neck. I can do it myself. I'm not
an infant, he muttered.
Minion stared glumly out the windshield. What a disaster! And it started out so well, too. What
was going to be a simple robbery had turned into some kind of deadly vendetta. He had a nagging
feeling that everything that had gone wrong tonight was somehow his fault. When those ice rays
hit, nearly freezing the water in his bowl, it had hurt, and the only thing on his mind was getting
his hands on Freezer Burn and stopping the pain. He had no idea how much trouble Megamind
was in until it was too late.
He shuddered. It was his job to serve and protect, and Minion felt that he was not living up to
expectations.
Minion tried again to get Megamind to see reason, or at least to do something less risky.
We could ambush 'em right here, Minion said. Don't have to follow him home.
Megamind examined his neck for any remaining traces of blood. The wound was dark red,
scabbed over already, as neat and straight as a paper cut. He sat back in the seat and clasped his
hands together in front of him, resting his forefingers against his chin. His knuckles were slightly
purple from the cold. He'd thrown out the black gloves, along with his coat and all the clothes he'd
been wearing, to make absolutely certain that Shadow had not planted any more tracking devices.
Now he wore a slightly grungy sweatsuit that he'd dug out of the laundry bag.
Poetic justice, Minion, he murmured. He was going to follow me back to our hideout. But I
will follow him to his. He returned to staring intently out the windshield. His cheek was swelling
up and there was a bruise on the side of his head, compliments of Shadow. Minion had hinted
broadly on the need to got some ice packs, hoping that they could leave the premises. Megamind

had simply pressed some snow on the injuries for a while.

This was a side to Megamind that Minion hadn't seen before. Minion was used to tirades, and
hysterics, and declarations of rev- ahnge , but after the initial torrent of rage, Megamind had
become deadly quiet. Minion wasn't sure how to handle this cold, evil silence. Megamind sat still,
hardly even fidgeting. He didn't drum his hands on the wheel, or hum, or pick his teeth, or clean
gunk out of the corners of his eyes, or any of the other hundred and one things he tended to do
while being forced to wait. Once in a while he rubbed his shoulder and arm, the arm that Shadow
had so cruelly twisted behind his back.
Why don't you...let me take the wheel, Sir? Minion asked casually. I can just...sort of...try to
follow, then, just sort of lose them...totally by accident, could happen to anyone...
Megamind stared at Minion a little too long. Minion gulped and tried not to squirm.
No. Minion, I think I will drive, said Megamind firmly, and returned his gaze to the SUV.
He'll spot us, Minion said gloomily. You've never tried to follow anyone by car before.
Megamind gave him a grim smile. I plan on learning quickly, Minion.
Some people appeared from around the corner, walking toward the SUV, and Megamind gripped
the wheel.
The computer geek Brad was carrying his laptop. Freezer Burn was carrying a case. Shadow
wasn't carrying anything. They got into the SUV and pulled out onto the street.
Here we go, said Megamind.
--------------------------When they got back to his apartment building, Shadow got out of the SUV and exhaled. He ran a
hand through his blond hair and took the pay packet out of his inner pocket.
Don't spend it all in one place, he said. Freezer Burn chuckled. Shadow snatched the envelope
out of his reach and glared coldly at his lackey. Seriously. Keep a low profile for a few days.
Think you can handle that?
Freezer Burn's lips tightened. He was still aching from the pummeling he'd gotten from Minion.
His pride had taken a pounding, too. His freeze rays had never failed so disastrously before.
Yeah, he said sullenly.
Glad to hear you can handle something anyway, Shadow said. He gave him the promised
payment, and Freezer Burn went to his battered pickup truck. Shadow and Brad went into the
building.
They took the elevator up. Shadow unlocked his apartment door and they both went inside.
Clear the table. Let's see what we got, he ordered. Brad carefully scooped up the mess of
papers, take-out containers, and other debris that covered the table and put them on the cabinet.
Shadow set the Tanaka case on the table and then shook out the other bag. He lined up all of
Megamind's inventions, the electro-whip, the little cases that looked like they might be smoke
bombs, the thing that Minion had claimed could open any lock, and the other things. Shadow
hadn't tried the key-o-matic, of course, since Minion might have been lying. He would have to
examine and test every one of these devices to find out their proper uses.

He picked up Megamind's pocket notebook and flipped through some of the pages. There were
several sketches of technical diagrams. And one page with several sketches of Megamind himself,
each face sporting a different mustache or beard. Shadow scoffed and tossed the notebook down.
You go through this book soon, see if there's anything useful in it, he said. Brad nodded.
Brad reached for the gun with the over-sized barrel that had a double-pronged hook sticking out of
it, eyes eager. Shadow smacked his hand away and glared at him.
Ow, Brad mumbled, rubbing his hand.
Get that tracking program started, Shadow snapped. While Brad set up his computer in the
living room, Shadow turned his head, stretching his neck. He could feel the tension start to
dissipate. He could finally relax. Now he could have a drink or two, and take care of his frayed
nerves.
He looked at the table again. He had a feeling that he was missing something. He counted the
gadgets again, but everything was there. He shook his head and went to the kitchen.
Shadow had wanted to wait until Bates was back in town before pulling the heist, but the buyer
was getting so skittish that he didn't dare wait any longer. It should have been a fairly
straightforward break-in, and it was until Megamind and Minion showed up.
Shadow was shocked that Freezer Burn's powers had been useless against that fish-cyborg, or
whatever the hell it was. He knew he had to take control fast.
The little freak was quick; he was lucky he'd been able to trip him. Good thing he got a hold of
him, too, because Shadow didn't have any other way of stopping Minion. He'd left his guns
behind, thinking that Freezer Burn would be enough to handle any trouble with the security
guards.
Admittedly, he'd been a little careless with the knife. He hadn't meant to actually cut him, but the
night was getting old and they were behind schedule. Then that whole mess with Brad fainting!
Shadow shook his head in annoyance. Well, he'd recruited Brad for his technological capabilities,
not his fighting skills. It was getting late, they were wasting time, and Shadow couldn't spend the
rest of the night babysitting everybody.
He was very pleased to have remembered the tracking devices. Actually, this had worked out for
the best. Now he could take his time and plan how to capture the fugitives. Megamind would go
crawling back to his hidey-hole and lick his wounds, and jump at the shadows for a few days, but
in a week or two he would have let his guard down. Shadow would plan an ambush. He'd like to
see what other goodies the little freak had come up with. Megamind had an impressive store of
weapons and gadgets stuffed in his pockets. Imagine what else he might have tucked away in his
den.
And he could consider his options. Turning him in for the reward was one possibility, but Shadow
would have to find someone reliable to handle it for him. Or perhaps he could recruit him, make
him an offer he couldn't refuse. Megamind's inventiveness would serve him well.
Or Shadow could sell him outright. There were companies run by people with very casual ethical
standards who would love to get such a unique specimen into their labs.
Yes, he could think of plenty of uses for Megamind. Controlling him was all a matter of finding
the right leverage, and Shadow was an expert on controlling people, super-powered or not. Not
that Megamind even had any powers, really. He might be clever with gadgets, but he wasn't much
different from every other punk kid that Shadow had run across. Minion, now, Minion was a real

problem. Much too protective, far too loyal. He would need to find a reliable way to control that
fish or Minion would be more trouble than he was worth.
As he reached for the fridge handle, Shadow realized what had been bothering him.
The de-gun. Megamind didn't have the de-gun on him, and from the reports, Megamind always
had it with him. There was no way Brad could have pocketed it. For one thing, Brad never would
have tried anything as stupid as trying to hide something like that from Shadow, and for another,
he couldn't pull a sleight-of-hand to save his life. Freezer Burn had been nowhere near them when
Brad emptied Megamind's pockets, so he couldn't have taken it, either.
This was a troubling loose end, and Shadow didn't like loose ends.
You got it running? he said loudly.
Uh, yeah, Brad answered from the living room.
Make sure to mark whenever they spend five minutes or more in any one place, he ordered.
They could have more than one hideout.
Yeah, okay, but, something weird is going on, Brad said. It looks like he hasn't moved.
Shadow frowned. He took a beer out of the fridge. Hasn't moved? You sure you--- He shut the
door of the fridge.
Minion was standing behind the door.
Shadow was almost too surprised to move. Almost.
Shadow flung the beer bottle at Minion's face. Minion flinched, then struck. Shadow dodged
Minion's punch, hurtling himself across the room. He grabbed the first thing he could get his
hands on, a pot, and flung it hard. Minion knocked it aside, and his other arm shot out like a viper
and nearly snagged Shadow, but he twisted and got away. Then the other robotic fist caught him
across the jaw and lifted him off his feet.
By the time the room stopped spinning, Minion had both Shadow's wrists trapped behind his
back. Megamind stood before him, in a wrinkled black sweatsuit, pointing the de-gun at Shadow's
face. The knife wound on his neck stood out like an extra little smile. There was a faint smell of
old socks.
Megamind smiled. Guns beat knives, he said cheerfully.
Shadow's face twisted. Little boy, you just made the biggest mistake of your life, he said in a
low and deadly voice.
Megamind chuckled. Yes, well, believe me, I am just terrified. This isn't much of a lair, I must
say. I mean, I would have expected an old airplane hangar, or a remodeled warehouse or
something, complete with an evil training center, but an apartment? Megamind gave the tiny
kitchen an elaborate, wide-eyed look. There were some urgent scuffling sounds coming from the
living room and he looked around sharply. Megamind rushed down the hall, de-gun at the ready.
Minion followed, hauling Shadow along.
Megamind found Brad hiding under the desk.
Oh, it's the computer geek! Megamind laughed. Come on out, now. Stand right there, hands
behind your head, and don't make any sudden movements. Or any movements, really. He

casually waved the de-gun around. Brad complied, Adam's apple bobbing like a cork.
I really should keep some rope handy for times like this, Megamind thought. He waved his arm
experimentally, and frowned a little as the baggy shirtsleeve flapped back and forth. He just had to
get a new wardrobe. He looked no better than some ragged street thug in this get-up. He walked
over to the table where all of his precious inventions were laid out.
He picked up the whip, and shook his head over the hairline crack that ran down the length of the
handle.
I certainly hope you have been taking proper care of my inventions, or it will go hard with you,
he said out loud.
Everything's...everything's there, you can have 'em back, you--- Brad said nervously.
Shut up, Shadow snarled.
Megamind chuckled. Now, now, let's have some manners. I don't think there's any cause to go
getting all worked up.
So how'd you get in the building without your precious little tools? Shadow demanded.
Oh, we just pressed all the buzzers until some... Minion said brightly.
Minion! Megamind snapped. Minion shut his mouth. Megamind scowled for a second, then his
mocking smile returned.
Wouldn't you like to know! he said, sneering. I have a host of skills at my disposal of which
you know nothing. My secrets are my own, you understand. No doubt you must have secrets of
your own that you wish to keep to yourself.
Shadow was very still.
Megamind walked slowly around the table, looking at the Tanaka case with interest. And I am
afraid I shall have to relieve you of your hard-won prize from Tanaka Industries, he said, running
his hand possessively over the case.
The cords of Shadow's neck stood out. Don't even think about touching that case, you rotten little
blue freak, you bet---aagk! His face went white and he sucked in his breath as Minion increased
the pressure.
Megamind stalked toward Shadow, smirking. I strongly suggest that the next sentence out of
your mouth does not contain the words 'little', 'blue', or 'freak', he said. Minion might get upset.
Damn right, Minion muttered. He stopped twisting Shadow's arm just enough to stop the pain
and the man regained a more normal color.
Megamind spun on his heel and strolled over to the desk. He raised a mocking eyebrow in
Shadow's direction. Now, if I had a secret identity, and I didn't want to risk anybody finding out,
I would probably not bring my ID or my wallet along on an important mission, would I? It might
get dropped.
A muscle jumped in Shadow's jaw.
So where would I leave it? In my desk? Megamind tugged on a couple of drawers. They were
sticky and didn't open right away. Megamind stuck the de-gun in his waistband to free his hands

and wrenched the drawers open with a grunt. I think I would. Well, what do you know, here it
is! He spun around, grinning evilly, flourishing a wallet.
And it all went pear-shaped.
Shadow twisted. His feet climbed the end table and somehow he flipped himself over into a
somersault, launching himself right out of Minion's grip. The sudden, violent movement threw
Minion off balance and his arms pinwheeled wildly. Megamind gasped, dropped the wallet, and
fumbled at his waist.
Shadow leaped.
Megamind barely drew it in time. He pulled the trigger. There was a flash of light.
The force of Shadow's trajectory had been so strong that the cube continued on its course and
bounced off Megamind's head. It landed on the carpet.
Megamind held the de-gun up, panting, eyes wide. Minion's mouth was hanging open.
Brad was doubled over, cringing. At the lack of screams, he carefully opened one eye and, once
he'd established who the victor was, slowly straightened up again, keeping his hands behind his
head.
Megamind swallowed hard and glared at the gaping Minion.
Your hands get sweaty? he said acidly.
I don't know what happened! Minion cried. Nobody ever broke free before!
Megamind exhaled and lowered the gun. Well. Well. Just...don't let it happen again. He bent
over to pick up the wallet.
Minion scowled at Brad. Hope you don't get any ideas, he said.
Not me, Brad said hurriedly. Look....guys...the stuff's all right over there. Take it, just take it.
And...and just go?
Megamind glared at him. I will decide when I am ready to leave, if you don't mind, he said
imperiously. He glared at the blue cube glowing on the floor. His lip curled and he kicked it across
the carpeting. It rolled all the way out to the hallway before coming to a stop. So, what's the big
secret? No doubt he's an upstanding, well-known businessman in the community. Undoubtedly
some public persona in which he would not want it known that he goes around at night dressed
like a ninja. Maybe he's the mayor's nephew!
Minion chuckled, Yeah, wouldn't that beat all!
Megamind pulled out the driver's license. Edward Corbin. Not a bad photo.
He looked at the rest of the contents of the wallet. There was another leather cardholder. He
flipped it open.
Minion leaned toward the glassy-eyed Brad. I don't think you have anything to worry about,
Minion murmured. Brad stared at him blankly. Minion gave him a reassuring, pointy-toothed grin.
You were just following orders. I know how it goes, Minion said, winking. And Sir's not that
vindictive, really, he'll be finished in a bit. Then I'm sure you can go, he said, wanting to reassure
Brad that the inconvenience of the hostage situation would be over momentarily, with a minimum

of any further discomfort.

Megamind stared at the badge...and there was no question about it, it was definitely a badge...for a
while. He turned the cardholder over a couple of times and read the ID card again. No, the words
were still there. They read:
Edward Corbin. Field Agent.Department of Paranormal Investigations. United States
Government.
Megamind swayed, and groped for the edge of the desk. He looked around the once-ordinary
apartment. The shadows in the corners were darker, and they could be hiding anything.
He swallowed. Um, Minion, he croaked, and coughed a bit to clear his throat, and held up the
badge for Minion to see.
Minion stared. He snatched the cardholder from Megamind's nerveless fingers. A forgery, he
said after a moment. It's a fake, right? he said hopefully.
Well, no, because the little holographic picture in the corner, this symbol here, see? said
Megamind, voice beginning to ratchet up an octave. Remember Cal? He said...he said...he said
that the new holographic images they started putting on everything are impossible for
counterfeiting hacks to reproduce...Counterfeiters can't...Oh my God, he's a FED, Megamind
whispered hoarsely.
Minion turned on the cringing Brad and grabbed a handful of his shirt. Hey. Hey, this is a fake,
right? Minion growled.
I can't say. I can't say! Brad moaned. He'll kill me!
Megamind and Minion looked at each other. Then, as one, they charged over to the table. In his
hurry, Minion knocked Brad over. Brad clasped his hands over his head and curled up in a ball on
the floor.
The whole place is probably wired for sound! Cameras everywhere! They'll be here any second!
Get the thing, get the thing, no, the other thing! Megamind shouted.
But, Sir, what about the...the cube?
Don't touch it!
They pounded down the hallway. The door crashed open. Brad cautiously raised his head, and
then he heard the elderly neighbor lady's voice.
You kids better knock off that racket! People are trying to sleep! There was a squawk, and more
pounding footsteps, as Megamind and Minion fled down the stairs.
Well! came the outraged elderly voice, getting closer. How rude! Mr. Corbin? Mr. Corbin, you
really must remind your friends...
Brad grimaced. Oh great. Now the old bat was coming in. He hurried to intercept her, but she was
already standing in the apartment's hallway, staring at the little blue cube glowing on the floor.
Bradley! What is going on in here! Where is Mr. Corbin! she demanded. She looked back at the
cube. Is that...
Uh, Mrs. Kindler, uh, we, Ed, I mean, had a break-in.

Mrs. Kindler gasped. Well, don't just stand there! Call the police! Another thought occurred to
her. She gasped again, hand flying to her mouth. Was that who pushed past me in the HALL?
she shrieked. Where's Fluffy? Fluffy! she cried rushing back to her apartment.
Worried about some stupid cat, Brad thought, huffing out a breath, running a hand through his
hair. He looked sideways at the cube and a cunning look passed over his face.
He imagined snatching up the cube, pocketing it, and leaving it, oh, nowhere in particular. For a
few wild, glorious seconds he fantasized about getting out from under Shadow's thumb. Brad
imagined telling the agents who would come looking, that why no, he hadn't seen Ed Corbin at
all, really, he had no idea where he was.
But the nightmarish thought arose that someday, somehow, Corbin would re-hydrate, and he
would be really ticked off, and would come looking for him.
Besides, Mrs. Kindler had seen it. And she was off to phone the cops now, probably, as soon as
she found her cat. Brad had better see this thing through.
He sighed and went to get a glass of water to re-hydrate Corbin, so they would have time to get
their story straight before Mrs. Kindler came back and the cops came. Let's see, they were
watching a movie marathon, were ordering pizza, and, geez, suddenly Megamind comes through
the door...yeah, that sounded good.
He hoped Corbin wasn't still in attack mode when he re-materialized.

Strategically Retreating
Chapter Notes

I love sharing a good quote. (And now in my mind I can hear Groucho Marx saying,
with a waggle of his eyebrows, "And this is nothing like a good quote." Ahahaha.)
Anyway, I like humorous quotes, so here's the one for this chapter:
"We've had some fun tonight...considering we're all gonna DIE someday." -Steve
Martin

----------------------Brad poured the water over the cube and quickly took several steps back. Corbin re-materialized,
a vision of bewildered, damp wrath. Brad raised his arms defensively as Corbin got to his feet.
Gone! They're gone, Brad said quickly, peering under his arm.Mrs. Kindler was just here,
she'll be back any second.
Corbin's hands clenched into fists.
The Tanaka case? he asked.
Gone, Brad said, gulping.
Corbin's eye twitched.
Mrs. Kindler chose that fortuitous moment to reappear, holding a fluffy calico cat in her arms.
Brad had never been so glad to see anyone in his life. In her presence, Corbin's demeanor changed
from murderous to indignant.
Oh, thank goodness you're all right, said Mrs. Kindler at the sight of Corbin standing there uncubed. She pressed a thin hand over her chest. You just don't know what that laser gun will do to
you! Probably plays all whack doodle with your atoms. Are you all right, Edward?
Just fine, Mrs. Kindler, said Corbin.
Now, I've called the police for you, Edward, so you don't have to worry about that. I'm sure
everything will be fine. You just explain everything to them, she said.
Yes, said Corbin, glaring at Brad.
Yeah, sure, blame me, Brad thought miserably. How could I stop her from calling the cops? What
was I supposed to do, tackle her?
Though I suppose your things are probably long gone, Mrs. Kindler said sadly. When those
burglars robbed me last year, I never did get my radio back.
Corbin closed his eyes and gingerly touched the bruise on his jaw. I'm...feeling a little light
headed, Mrs. Kindler. Maybe some tea?

Oh, of course! You poor man. You come sit down over here.
With the cat dangling from one arm, she took a hold of Corbin's elbow and steered him into his
kitchen. It's just terrible, terrible! Aliens breaking into decent people's homes. We'll all be
murdered in our beds next. And you in the CIA and all. No one is safe.
DPI, Mrs. Kindler, said Corbin. I'm with DPI. We're new.
--------------THE IMPORTANT THING IS TO REMAIN CALM! Megamind shouted. LET'S NOT GO
LOSING OUR HEADS, AND RUNNING AROUND LIKE...WHAT ARE YOU DOING!
GET BACK ON THE FREEWAY! WE CAN'T GO BACK TO THE LAIR YET!
Minion, nerves shot, yanked the steering wheel sharply to the left. The van's tires skidded and
squealed as it was hauled off the exit ramp. The van narrowly missed the guardrail, skittered
across three lanes, and finally settled, rocking slightly, back onto the road. Minion was shaking.
A little more warning next time! Minion cried. Sir, he added.
Megamind was too agitated to notice the lapse in protocol. Just keep driving! he said, looking
over the back of his seat. Is anyone following us? He turned around to face the front again,
laughing hysterically. No, that's crazy, there couldn't be anyone following. Is there? He looked
back again.
Of course not, of course not, that's ridiculous, he said, as if trying to convince himself. I mean,
really, there probably weren't even any wires, or cameras, or alarms. It was just a normal
apartment, wasn't it? I mean, Megamind laughed again anxiously, he wouldn't bug his own
apartment! He doesn't want his fellow agents knowing what he's up to!
Say...Paranormal Investigations, Minion said. Do you think 'Paranormal' includes...aliens?
I would not be at all surprised, Minion, Megamind said. Do you think they have a Most
Wanted List? Because I bet we'll be on it. He groaned, covered his face with his hands and
slumped down in the seat so far that he almost slipped under the dashboard.
But that's not fair! Minion protested. He started it!
Megamind gave him a disgusted look. Oh, right Minion! When does that excuse ever work?
For a while there was only the sound of the tires on the road. The interior of the van changed from
light to dark and back to light again as the street lights went by.
Minion steered the van on automatic. Fortunately there wasn't too much traffic. He resisted the
urge to step on the gas, and kept an eye out for patrols. Sometimes a cop car parked on the median
on this stretch, ready to pounce upon unwary speeders.
How come he didn't---you know---introduce himself? Minion wondered. Like, 'This is Agent
Corbin! Stand where you are!' That kind of thing? Aren't they supposed to do that?
Megamind stared sightlessly at the dashboard. The dream was running through his thoughts again.
That stupid, stupid dream.
...The crow smiled, and struck...
Do you think it was a sting operation? Was he undercover? Minion asked, desperately trying to

find some sort of silver lining. There didn't seem to be one. He glanced over at Megamind's
slumped form. He was feeling the need for some direction. Some orders to follow about now
would be welcome.
Sir?
The bogeyman is real, Megamind murmured, so quietly that Minion could barely hear him.
And he's got a nice, shiny knife. And a badge! Did you know that 'Corbin' is derived from the
French language? Meaning 'crow' or 'raven.' I suppose they could have been ravens.
Ravens?What ravens? Minion flared his fins open and closed nervously. That's interesting, he
croaked. Um, Sir, where are we going?
I don't think it was a sting operation, Megamind said. He wasn't trying to lure those two nitwits
into a criminal act so he could collar them. He was giving the orders. He was in charge.
Megamind's heart started racing again. Maybe it was some kind of sting operation, aimed at him.
The thought was so terrible he pulled his knees up to his chest and covered his ears. Had they
bugged the lair? No. No, it couldn't possibly...that was insane. Such an elaborate set-up! They
couldn't possibly have known that he was about to rob Tanaka Industries. Shadow...Corbin...had
been surprised to see them there. If the feds had really been lying in wait, they would have
gathered a much larger force to make certain of apprehending the alien fugitives. Come to that, if
they knew where the lair was, they wouldn't have bothered to go to all the trouble of bugging it,
they would just have moved in and arrested him.
He was not thinking clearly. Carefully he unfolded himself and smoothed down his shirt, glancing
briefly at Minion to see if he'd noticed his conniptions. Finding Corbin's badge had thrown him
right back into his ancient terror of the men in black, lurking in the shadows, ready to swoop in
and take him away if he stepped out of line.
Okay, so the most likely scen-ah-rio was that Corbin was an agent who had gone bad. Now it was
just a question of whether Corbin would pursue them as Shadow, or as an agent, with all the
might of the federal government behind him. Because he had a feeling that Corbin could get the
entire FBI, CIA, and Humane Society after him. The man was clearly more than willing to
commit acts of burglary. Why, planting false evidence was probably a snap.
Minion took an exit. Megamind felt too dispirited to give any orders, or even to be very curious
about where Minion was going.
Several minutes later the van stopped behind a convenience store. Megamind looked at Minion
with a puzzled frown.
Minion reached down to the floor and picked up the key-o-matic. Be back in a minute, Sir, he
said, and he got out.
Megamind propped an elbow against the door and laid his cheek on his fist. He rubbed his eyes
with his other hand, then let the hand fall to his lap. He stared dully at the gray bricks of the
building. He felt numb. Numb was good. It was an improvement over gut-lancing, all-consuming
panic. It would be nice to remain numb a little longer.
Minion returned with several plastic-wrapped burgers and sandwiches.
That looks suspiciously like real food, Megamind muttered. Did they run out of vitaminpacked oat rectangles?
Minion grinned and shrugged. Eh. Grease is more comforting.

The burgers were still warm from the microwave. Megamind unwrapped one without any great
enthusiasm, then discovered that he really was hungry. He wolfed it down. Minion snapped up his
burger patty in two bites, then shook a few fish flakes onto the top of his water to finish.
Corbin's going to want to track us down and make sure we don't tell anyone about his little
moonlighting operation, Megamind said. The burger had tasted pretty good going down, but now
it sat in his stomach like a rock. And it's just our word against his.
He gasped and sat up as a beautiful thought blossomed.
The computer! he cried, grabbing Minion's arm. Minion yelped. Computer geek's laptop!
Megamind shouted. It's bound to be full of incriminating evidence! If we're cornered, we can
corner him right back! Maybe we can strike a deal with Mr. Two-Faced Shadow Agent!
Excitedly he scanned the floor. His recovered gadgets were piled by his feet. The Tanaka case
was sitting between the front seats. Megamind clambered into the back of the van and looked
around in increasing puzzlement.
So where is it? he demanded.
What, the laptop? Didn't you get it? Minion asked.
Megamind's stomach plummeted. I told you to take everything! he shouted.
But I grabbed everything on the table! Minion wailed. You just kept saying 'get the thing'!
He had it under the desk with him! Megamind shouted. How could you not... Breathing hard,
he gripped the back of his seat and forced himself to calm down. Minion was cringing in his bowl.
Megamind climbed back into the front and dropped into his seat.
All right, he said. So. The laptop was under the desk and you didn't see it. Fine. The very
important computer with potentially vee-tal, life-saving information was left behind. Okay. No
problem. We'll have to go to this Brad's place. Assuming he's not roommates with Corbin. And
we are not going back there, that's for sure.
Um, said Minion in a little voice.
Megamind closed his eyes. Don't tell me. Let me guess. You didn't take his wallet. So we don't
know where he lives.
Well, everything was happening kinda fast...
Megamind clenched his hands into fists. Well, then, Minion. All we have to do, he said, voice
rising, is scour the city, with its millions of inhabitants, for a guy named Brad!
Yes. I mean, no, Minion squeaked. I mean...
Forget it, forget it, Megamind said fiercely.
Freezer Burn, Minion said hopefully. Did you see the license plate on his truck? We could...
No, Megamind said. No, I didn't bother to look. He'd been happy to see Freezer Burn
leaving, because it was one less thing to worry about, and had taken no more notice of him or his
vehicle.
Well, what about the case? What'd they steal? Minion said.

I guess we might as well see what's so important, he muttered. He put the case on his lap and
opened the lid. Rows of silver discs greeted him. He pulled them out one by one, reading the
labels.
Face Melter, he read aloud. Dance Party Factor Three. Samurai Delta Squad...what the
hell...?
Hey! It's Super Gotcha! Minion said in delight. That's not supposed to come out until next
year! They're video games, Sir! These must be prototypes.
I know what they are, Megamind snapped. But...but...he stole...we went through all that, for...I
almost got my head cut off for a bunch of games?! He scowled at the innocent rows of discs.
It wasn't plans for some top-secret weapon, or schematics for a revolutionary vehicle, or state of
the art electronics. Just a bunch of games.
He slammed the case shut.
Let's just go back, Minion.
Much later, in hindsight, he marveled that he was so unenthusiastic about their haul. But at the
time the wonders of the gaming world were not yet apparent to him. He'd only ever had one video
game, a clunky, hand-held model that the warden had given him when he was thirteen. It featured
a gorilla throwing barrels at a technician, who had to jump over them. He mastered it in a few
days and grew bored with it. He concluded that video games were simply another product for the
unimaginative public, obviously concocted as a time-waster. He was going to dismantle it to see if
anything more interesting could be done with its innards, but then he was stopped by the yearning,
anxious look in Minion's eye. Deciding that Minion needed some work on his fine motor skills, he
gave him the game. Then Smiley Rodrigo stole it, and the game got crushed in the ensuing epic
battle when they went to reclaim it.
Video games! he thought disgustedly. He supposed the discs were worth something.
--------------------It was still dark when they pulled into the main floor of the hideout. It was hard to believe that
only a few hours ago they'd blissfully been packing for the raid, unaware of the trouble lying in
wait for them. Minion was feeling quite low. He'd almost let Megamind get his throat cut. Shadow
had broken free of Minion's grip and nearly clobbered Sir again. And he'd left that computer
behind. His list of mistakes was growing shamefully long.
Food, usually a pretty good cure-all, had not worked its magic. The mood was grim.
I wonder what he'll do, thought Minion. Maybe beef up our security. Install some cameras, or an
alarm, or...
Megamind wordlessly gathered his inventions and got out of the van. Minion picked up the
Tanaka case and followed him down the stairs. He set the case on a table, then busied himself in
the kitchen area, pretending to reorganize the food stores, watching Megamind out of the corner of
his eye. Megamind stripped off the dirty clothes, leaving a trail of them as he walked across the
floor. He put on a clean v-necked t-shirt. He picked up a red flannel shirt and stared at it for a long
time. With a huge sigh he put it on and buttoned up. Then he put on a zippered sweatshirt and
pants, and climbed under the blankets. He lay on his back and laid one arm over his eyes.
Minion stood still for a moment, at a loss. He's going to sleep? Well, no wonder, after everything
that happened. But Minion wasn't sleepy at all.

So he began to straighten up. He picked up the discarded clothes. He wiped down the refrigerator
and cleaned out the microwave. He swept the floor, conscientiously keeping away from Sir's sleep
area, and swept under all the work tables. He was just getting started on sorting all the screws and
bolts and washers into their proper containers---really, the work area should have been
reorganized a long time ago---when Megamind spoke.
Minion, if you don't go to sleep right now, I am going to take you to the nearest working toilet
and flush you down it, he said flatly.
Minion winced. He'd been making too much noise. He better power down.
Miserably obedient, Minion retreated to his corner and powered down, but he still couldn't sleep.
He swam around. He bumped his head against the dome. He nibbled on his fins. He did not feel
right at all.
In his mind's eye he saw it all again, Megamind pinned against Shadow, knife at his throat. And
all that blood. He almost lost him. He almost... He worried at his tail, caught one of the trailing
fronds in his teeth and chewed on it.
If Megamind would just say something, well, something else, anyway. Where was the tirade? The
manic energy? Anything was better than this silent treatment.
Guiltily, Minion realized that he hadn't even prepared an ice pack for Sir's other injuries, or even
treated the knife wound on his neck.
Minion powered up again as quietly as possible. He tiptoed over to Megamind's cot. Maybe I can
just sort of stand by the bed, so if he wakes up and needs anything, I can be right there to...
What is it, Megamind snapped, without moving.
Minion jumped. Crap. He thought he was asleep.
I was just checking, to see if you needed anything, he quavered.
No, I don't need anything, Megamind murmured. Except for you to stop clanking around. Go
to sleep.
Minion nervously twined his fingers together. He didn't feel like a rough and tough henchman. He
felt like crying.
Can I sleep with you? Minion burst out, and clamped his hands over his mouth.
Megamind raised his arm a little and peered at Minion with a single incredulous eyeball. Then he
let his arm fall over his face again.
Don't be such a baby, Minion, he said. You'll be telling me you're afraid of the dark, next. He
let his arm fall to his side and looked stonily around the room. I notice that you've left all the
lights on.
I can't help it, said Minion. I don't feel good. I just---just--- He rocked back and forth in
agony.
I'm so sorry, Sir, it was all my fault! You almost died, and I couldn't do anything! Minion
wailed. Please don't be mad at me anymore! I should get flushed! I should!

Megamind sat up in alarm. I didn't mean it, Minion. I'd never really---
Minion walked back and forth in agitation. The ice rays! I didn't even think about the de-gun!
And it was right there in my side panel! And you needed me and I didn't hear you---
Well, it's not like I was calling for help, Minion, you can't be expect---
Minion flung his arms out in despair and nearly hit a lamp. And I couldn't even hold on to that--that bad man! Minion whirled and caught the side table a glancing blow. Paper plates and
notebooks scattered across the floor. He almost got you again! And I didn't get that computer, I
should have thought of it, I was---
Megamind jumped off the cot and grabbed Minion's arms. Minion, stop it! I'm not angry at you,
okay? I'm not going to flush you! Don't you know an idle threat when you hear one? Minion
looked at him sorrowfully.
Megamind stared into Minion's soft brown eyes. I'm not angry. All right? All your clumping
around was making me crazy. That's all.
Still holding onto the big arms, Megamind cocked his head in thought. He looked back at Minion
again. Freezer Burn struck too fast, he said. You couldn't have gotten the de-gun out in time.
Your arm would've been frozen to your side. You saved me, Minion. You pushed me out of the
way just in time. Even I, yes, even I was taken by surprise. And I would like you to take note that
I am not dead. Breathing. Pulse. This is what is known as 'evidence', he said, grinning crookedly.
Minion managed a brief shaky smile, but his face looked close to crumpling again.
Megamind ran his gaze around the room. Look, he said. Get the lights turned off. We can
leave one on. You can sleep with me in the cot, just for tonight. Okay?
Okay, Minion sniffled.
And so the blankets were rearranged, and the bowl disconnected from the robot suit. Megamind
lay on his side with Minion's bowl held in the curve of his arm, against his chest. It was the way
they'd always slept together when they were children, about a million years ago.
It was familiar and comforting. They lay quietly for a while.
You socked Corbin a good one, Minion, Megamind said. I told you that he couldn't handle
you, and I was right, wasn't I?
Yep. You were right, Sir, Minion said.
The look on his face when he saw you standing in his kitchen was priceless, Megamind
chuckled.
Minion gave him a real smile then, all his pointy teeth showing. Yeah, like a deer caught in the
headlights!
That was a good move on your part, when he called me that name, and you twisted his arm
without me even having to say anything, said Megamind. Shows initiative. Teamwork. Minion
blushed happily.
An old ritual drifted back into Megamind's memory. Knock knock, he said impulsively.
Grinning, Minion opened the dome and stuck his head out. Megamind pressed his forehead
against the damp scales of Minion's head. A little water dribbled onto the blanket but Megamind

ignored it.
Now go to sleep, he said. Don't snore.
Okay, Sir, Minion said, sinking back into the water.
A minute later he was snoring gently.
Megamind stared into space. For some reason the old bedtime ritual made him feel both better and
worse at the same time. There was a hollow place in his chest and he bit his lip.
He'd been about to fall into a sort of thought-free stupor, if not actual sleep, before Minion had his
breakdown. What with all the fuss, now he was wide awake. His back was cold. The cot was
against the wall. He couldn't sleep if the bed wasn't against the wall, even though a steady stream
of arctic chilliness radiated off it. Very carefully, so as not to disturb Minion, he wadded up a
blanket for insulation.
The single lamp that Minion had left on illuminated the computer station, a pile of motherboards,
and a couple of teetering stacks of books. Beyond the light's dimensions, the rest of the basement
faded into dreary gray and black. It was like solitary confinement.
He'd meant to leave the prison behind forever. Of course you can't go home again, he thought
bitterly. You always drag the wretched place around with you everywhere you went.
On the ceiling, a few cobwebs waved in the heat currents that wafted off the space heaters.
Minion always industriously swept them away, and the spiders, awakened from hibernation by the
warmth, always just as industriously wove them again.
It was a lesson in perseverance, like that old story of the general who, having suffered yet another
defeat, watched a spider patiently rebuild its web seven times, and from that he got the courage to
persevere, to once again go into battle, and thereby became victorious. Megamind distrusted the
tale. It sounded suspiciously like one of those stories that had character-building morals in it. But if
it was crap, it was pretty good crap.
Hey, you know who else has probably got lots of perseverance? a sarcastic, perky voice piped up
in the back of his head. Agent Corbin! You really lit a fire under him, I'll bet! He's got lots of
incentive to track you down. Haul you away to Area 51 quicker'n you can say extra-terrestrial.
Especially quicker than you can say it. And it's not extra-terres-tree-ALL by the way.
Megamind, brain fogged with fatigue, played along. So what's this? My conscience? he thought
wearily.
Nope! Good guess, though, came the reply. I'm your Second Thoughts. You really suck at
listening.
Megamind's lip curled in a sneer. Well, if I'd listened to you, I'd never have left the prison, so
there.
Ohhhh, yeahhh, came the snarky reply. So how's that workin' out for ya? Got yourself a nice
place here, a shabby rundown factory no one else wants.
Oh, shut up, he thought at himself.
Better give warden a call, the voice said, almost kindly. You're in over your big, blue head.
Warden'll take you back. You know the number. Heck, he'll probably even drive over and pick

you up himself! Sure, there'll be a little yelling, okay, maybe a lot of yelling, and some scolding.
Just nod and tune him out, and you'll be back in your nice, safe cell in no time. I don't think you'll
get the same offer from Corbin...
I said shut up! Megamind thought fiercely. I don't need the warden and I don't need you!
Second Thoughts were silent. Apparently it'd run out of things to be snarky about.
I'm cracking up, Megamind thought. Lying here arguing with myself. Well, I don't need anybody.
I don't.
He hugged Minion a little harder, and drifted into an uneasy sleep.
-------------------So we're watching Rocket Racers: Return of Skyjack, it's the fourth movie, right? And we're
waiting for the pizza, said Brad, waving his arms. It's not the best one, the third one was a lot
better, frankly, they should've followed up on the twin brother storyline, I don't know why they...
The police officer sitting in the chair facing them tapped his pen on his notepad and interrupted.
Please, sir, can you tell me what happened next? With the robbery?
Brad was reluctantly dragged back to reality. He glanced at Corbin, sitting impassively on the
other side of the sofa, holding an ice pack to his bruised jaw.
Brad could tell that Corbin was reining his anger in pretty hard. But he seemed content to let Brad
spin the story that they'd been watching an all-night movie marathon of Rocket Racer movies. It
really was on TV, too. Brad had been pretty bummed over having to miss it, because they had to
do the Tanaka break-in.
So we're watching the movie, waiting for the pizza guy, and when the bell rang, whammo!
Brad smacked his fist into his hand. It was Megamind! Can you believe it? I couldn't believe it!
Brad was quite pleased to have come up with this story, and he was a little irritated that Corbin
didn't seem very happy with his inventiveness. It wasn't like Corbin was adding much to the
conversation.
The officer made some notes. So what did he take?
Brad blinked. Excuse me? he said, lips going dry. Corbin shifted his weight.
What did he steal? the cop asked. He glanced around at the room. The TV, stereo, and video
player were all conspicuously not stolen. Brad felt a bead of sweat form on his temple. He hadn't
thought of that yet. During the endless wait for the police, he'd spent most of his energy keeping
Mrs. Kindler between himself and Corbin. When the cops finally arrived, she'd given her
accounting of events, then taken her cat back to her apartment.
The other cop was looking at the chairs lying on the floor by the table. Megamind and Minion had
knocked them over in their mad dash to gather up Megamind's inventions.
They knock these over? Over here? the cop asked.
Most of the surfaces of Corbin's apartment were covered with the usual debris of bachelor living,
such as newspapers, take-out containers and odd pieces of clothing. The table was bare.
Do you have any idea why he would break into your place, Mr. Corbin? the annoyingly

inquisitive cop asked.

Brad felt the drop of sweat trickle down his hairline. He hoped it wasn't visible.
Minion attempted to confine me, I fought back, I was dehydrated, Corbin announced. When
Megamind found my wallet and discovered my status as a DPI agent, he panicked and fled
without stealing anything.
The note-taking cop said, Is that what happened, Mr. Newton?
Yep. That's pretty much it, Brad said quickly.
So what's DPI again? asked Officer Annoying.
Department of Paranormal Investigations, said Corbin. Used to be a subsection of the FBI.
Recently we acquired separate status and operate independently. It's to more effectively deal with
the growing challenges posed by the super-powered community. It was straight out of the
brochure, if DPI had a brochure.
You sure this break-in didn't have anything to do with your occupation? A case you're working
on...? the inquisitive cop asked. The question hung in the air.
No, said Corbin. The cop looked at him, then at Brad. Brad dropped his eyes.
The note-taking officer nodded and wrote some more. He snapped his notepad shut. Well, if you
can think of anything more to tell us, any details could be helpful.
Yes. Thank you, officers. I'll be sure to let you know, said Corbin.
He escorted the officers to the door and banged it shut behind them.
The cops looked at each other, then ambled down the hall.
The inquisitive cop muttered, This apartment is on the seventh floor. Megamind just happened to
break into a place that's rented by a fed?
The other one rolled his eyes. Leave it, he muttered.
Feds are jerks, grumbled the inquisitor. Never tell us anything. 'Oh no, Officers, I'm just an
innocent victim', he sang in a nasally voice. Paranormal. What is that, ghost busters? Stupid. It's
illegal to conceal information about a crime. Like this break-in! What's he hiding? What's...
Would you drop it already? his pragmatic partner snapped. You see conspiracies everywhere.
It's not worth your job.
---------------Man, good thing that's over with, huh? Brad said, standing up to go put his laptop back in its
case. Corbin came back into the room. Brad turned, and his smile faded. Corbin was walking at
him fast.
Corbin took hold of Brad's shirt and walked him backward until he slammed against the wall so
hard that the pictures rattled.
What did you tell him? Corbin said in a low voice.
I...you heard me...the movie, Brad gasped. We were watch---

Corbin slammed him against the wall again, once. Not the cops, stupid, he said through his
teeth. What did you tell that little blue rat that broke into my house and that you let walk out of
here with twenty million dollars worth of merchandise?
A number of thoughts went through Brad's head, one of which was, if all that stuff was worth
twenty million, why was Brad only getting two thousand, and 'let' walk out? What was with the
'let'? Had Corbin really expected Brad to offer resistance? To tackle Minion and heroically wrest
the case from his bone-crushing metal hands? To confront Megamind? Brad may have been
bigger than Megamind, but he was under no illusions about his own fighting abilities. He had a
feeling that even without the de-gun, Megamind's pointy elbows would win the day in a physical
altercation.
In the interests of self-preservation, Brad did not ask those questions.
Nothing. I didn't tell him anything, Brad squeaked. It was just like you said. He found your
badge and totally freaked. He didn't even take your wallet.
Corbin's face contorted. I don't care about the wallet. What I care about is the fact that the biggest
score of my career just walked out the door. You tell me exactly what you told that little freak.
They asked me if your ID was fake, I said I couldn't say, that you'd kill me, Brad gulped. I
swear I didn't tell them about the business or anything, and they grabbed the stuff and ran.
Corbin stared into his eyes for another few heart-pounding moments, then he exhaled and let go of
Brad's shirt. He turned and walked over to the desk. Brad slumped against the wall very quietly.
When Corbin turned around again, he had a knife in his hand. He held it up and watched the light
play along the blade. Brad watched, only his eyes moving.
You said that the tracers were undetectable, Corbin said to the knife. How is it that Megamind
found them?
Brad ran a tongue over his lips. I said they were...practically...undetectable, he said hoarsely. I
don't know how he discovered them.
Corbin sighed and lowered the knife. He stared into the distance. We need to update security
immediately. Get Rahim and Dougie on the phone. Can you work on the system from here or do
you need to be at the office?
Corbin's lack of understanding how computers worked never ceased to amaze Brad, but he was
careful to never show any condescension. While it was imperative to always prove your
usefulness to Corbin, showing off your superiority was a good way to invite a lot of unnecessary
pain into your life. But it had been a long night. Brad was exhausted.
No, I can do it from here, he mumbled. I can set up a conference call with the guys, video feed.
But I'm kinda wore out, I'm not really with it right now, maybe tomorrow...
Corbin's gaze sharpened on Brad and stopped his feeble protest.
You think you're done for the night? You all tuckered out? he said quietly. How good are
Megamind's hacking skills? Hm?
I don't know, Brad mumbled. He hated it when Corbin asked questions that didn't really require
an answer.
Well, I don't know either, Brad, which is why you better get every security system in our
network tightened up real quick, and I want to know if anyone, anywhere, even looks into DPI,

even if it's just some other snot-nosed kid doing research for a school project. You can do that,
right? Get notified whenever our system gets accessed and find out what computer is being used?
Brad nodded wearily. Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. He took out his cell phone.
Corbin picked up the phone on the desk. He had his own call to make. He dialed.
Hey, Ulrich. I need your nose. Get over to my place right away.

A Little Cat-and-Mouse
Chapter Notes

Where words appear in brackets {like this} it indicates that Mandarin Chinese is
being spoken. I saw this type of thing in comic books.
Here's the quote for today:
"Igor gave this some thought. In his experience, a prime definition of 'the wrong
hands' was 'the government.'"
-Terry Pratchett, from the novel Making Money.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Megamind's eyes opened and he bolted uptight.

Logan Wannamaker, 1208 Peach Tree Street, Metrocity! Megamind shouted. Minion nearly
rolled off the cot as Megamind flung himself off and leaped to his feet.
A coincidence? I think not, he said, hopping around and pulling his boots on.
Wha...Peach Tree? Minion mumbled.
The intruder! Logan Wannamaker! Come on, Minion, get with the program.
He went over to the computer station and began flicking on switches. Power strip, router,
monitor...
Some louse tries to kick the door in and a couple nights later we're practic---why isn't the monitor
coming on? he snapped. He looked at the electronic tower. Nothing's on! Grumbling, he
crawled under the table.
Minion, still stuck in the cot, looked at his motionless robot body standing a couple of feet away.
If he were close enough, he could activate the arms, and put himself into the suit. He concentrated.
The robot body remained motionless. Nuts. He must be a little too far away for the neural links to
work.
Um, Sir? If you could pick me up? I'm kind of stuck here, he called.
A torrent of cursing erupted from under the table.
Mice! Megamind shouted. Mice chewed right through the cable! He emerged from the
depths, a few stray cobwebs clinging to his scalp and eyebrow. Irritably he brushed them away.
Miserable, stinking, lousy, plague-ridden, detestable...death to them all!
If you could even just scoot me over a little, a little closer to the... Minion said hopefully.
Megamind paced around the room, stepping over the power cords that littered the floor.

This Logan was a ruse. A plant. A spy. An informant! I'll tell you this! He will RUE the day he
crossed my path. He will...will... His voice trailed away, and he stopped pacing. Of course, he
said reluctantly, he couldn't have told on us. He was cubed at the time I was planning my brilliant
break-in.
He scowled around the room, looking for something to vent his frustration on. He hated it when
his train of thought got de-railed, even if he did the de-railing himself. The trespasser, their failed
robbery attempt, getting attacked by another criminal gang, and for the leader of that gang to be a
rogue federal agent...
There were too many coincidences, too many variables, too many unknowns. It all had to come
together somehow, it had to.
I'm not going to spend all day messing around with wires, he announced. I am going to
investigate this Logan person myself, and I need a computer that hasn't been ravaged by rodents.
Come on, he ordered, and went up the stairs. There was the sound of the van door slamming,
and the basement was silent.
Minion sighed, waved his fins, and waited.
A few seconds later, he heard the sound of the van door opening and shutting, and the sound of
Megamind's footsteps as he stomped heavily down the stairs again. Jaw stiff with irritation,
Megamind walked over to the bed.
You are a lot of work, you do know that, don't you, Minion? he said testily, as he picked
Minion up and deposited him back into the robot suit.
Yes, Sir, I know, Minion said. He powered up, raising his arms and flexing his fingers. They
creaked. He wondered when they would be able to get to work on his new robot suit.
He also would have liked to point out that it was the middle of the day, and keeping a low profile
would be challenging, but sometimes it was best to let Megamind's manic thought process run its
course. It was, perhaps, not a very respectful attitude, but it helped Minion figure when to protest a
course of action, and when to go along for the ride until a new, shinier object of interest captured
Megamind's attention.
---------------Not a peep, now, Minion said to the two sole employees of Computer Solutions, and began to
shut the closet door on them.
Wait---but---I'm claustrophobic! one of them gasped. The man did look pretty pasty. Minion
hesitated, but then he frowned and twitched his fins in irritation. It was the middle of the day, and
by his internal clock, he should still be asleep, and he was not in the mood to make hostages
comfy.
You don't want to get dehydrated, do you? Minion said. Those cubes are really small. A lot
smaller than this closet, he added, narrowing his eyes. The man gulped and pulled out his inhaler.
Minion shut the door.
Megamind was typing furiously on the computer keys. Minion wandered about the cramped back
room, piled high with circuit boards and computers in various stages of repair. He went out to the
store's front door and put up the Closed sign. He browsed through the store's meager offerings.
There were some old joysticks and a few other more complex video game control systems on one
shelf, and Minion bagged one for his own use. After a moment he scooped up a few more. Might

as well have a few spares. He peered out the window at the street below.
Computer Solutions was a store that specialized in rehabilitating used computers. It was located on
the top floor of a six-story building that also housed a dentist's office, a craft store, and a flower
shop. It was part of a row of buildings that were sandwiched together without even alleyways to
separate them. A couple of delivery vans had been busy at the back, so they'd taken the long way
around and entered the building via the rooftops, from three buildings over.
Minion wandered into the back room again to check on Megamind's progress. His eyes brightened
as he noticed, for the first time, the employee's coats hanging on the wall.
Hey, look! he said excitedly, taking one of them down. This is just like the one you threw
away last night. Just dark gray. He looked at the tag. It's even the same size! Isn't that lucky?
Megamind looked over his shoulder at the beaming Minion. He looked the new tent-parka up and
down. The corner of his mouth twitched.
Wow, Megamind finally said. What a...stroke of luck. You better empty the pockets first,
though. I don't want to end up with that wheezy guy's used handkerchiefs. Then Megamind
realized he was still wearing the red flannel shirt he'd put on to keep warm last night. Oh no! Had
he really come out in public wearing this thing?! What was the message here, Alien Lumberjack?
He really did need that new coat to cover this questionable fashion statement.
Megamind turned back to the screen, and leaned back with a sigh. The closest that Logan
Wannamaker seems to have gotten to government work was participating in the President's
Physical Fitness Challenge in grade school, Megamind said drearily. He was disappointed.
Sir, Minion said, I really think you're pursuing a dead end. That man was completely lost. I'm
sure we don't have anything to worry about. And, you were right, as usual , to decide to take him
down. You knocked him out and protected the lair, all without being spotted! Really excellent
work, Sir, he added, using flattery in an attempt to gently steer Megamind in another direction.
Megamind drummed his fingers on the desk. It would seem that this Logan really was who he
appeared to be, a chance stranger stumbling across his doorstep. He leaned back in the chair and
looked thoughtfully at the computer screen for some time. He felt the knife cut on his neck. The
skin surrounding it was very sore, and the scab was dry and itchy. He let his hand fall before
Minion could scold him about picking at it. He had a slight headache and his teeth ached dully on
the side of his face that had taken the hit.
He should try to find out as much as possible about Edward Corbin.
But Corbin would be expecting him to come nosing around, or at least he wouldn't want to take
any chances that Megamind wouldn't come start digging around. Megamind's discovery of
Corbin's ninja persona was a major breach of security.
He pushed off the desk and swiveled around in the chair. Last night he'd been running scared, as
if the entire armed forces was about to come swooping in with helicopters and search lights and
SWAT teams. Panic had been doing the thinking. Of course, Corbin could manufacture evidence
that would make the whole defense department want to get a hold of Megamind pretty badly, but
would he?
Corbin didn't seem like the sort to let others exact rev-ahnge on his behalf. He seemed like the sort
who would want to capture Megamind and deal with him personally. He wouldn't want to share.
So...how far did his reach extend within DPI? Perhaps he kept his little crime ring separate from
his formal job, perhaps not.

Last night Megamind had been running scared. All right, he admitted in the privacy of his head, it
was an all-out panic, but he was seeing things a little differently in the daylight. Which,
incidentally, he had seen far too little of lately.
The words he had spoken to comfort Minion last night came back to him.
What really happened last night, Minion? he said, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling.
Huh? Minion put aside the laptop he was examining. Well... he said, scratching his dome.
We got in a fight, you almost got whacked, we followed them back to the leaders place...
Megamind grinned. ...And we kicked his butt. And made off with his precious loot! he said. He
gave a short bark of laughter. And we got away with it, too!
A surge of fierce triumph flowed through him and with a push of his foot Megamind sent himself
rolling across the room. His chest swelled with elation.
Corbin is only a mere mortal, after all! Megamind said. Bogeymen? Ha! Such childish notions
are best aired out and squashed.
Yeah, I guess so, but... Minion said uneasily.
Megamind was starting to feel downright annoyed with himself. To go haring out of Corbin's
apartment like that was so amateurish.
He shoved the chair back across the room and came to an abrupt halt at the computer station. He
was glad that those mice had chewed up the wires. It had gotten him out and about, and he'd had
some time to think.
He began to think about security protocols, firewalls, computer codes, encryption systems.
The U.S. government, like all governments, was in a covert war with all other nations, trying to
protect its secrets, and at the same time trying to uncover the secrets of other countries in acts of
one-upmanship, always angling for an edge. They probably had some of the most up-to-date
systems in the world. Security would be a top priority for them.
They probably had all sorts of tracking capabilities and alarms worked into their systems.
Who else do you suppose Corbin has on his payroll, Minion? he said musingly.
Minion said, You mean, besides Freezer Burn? Guess you could get into their system and find
out.
Yes...if they are even listed. And I suppose Agent Corbin will be expecting me to do something
like that. He got up and went into the outer store. He peered around the edge of the window to
take in the layout of the street.
Across the street and down the block, a For Rent sign graced the top of a squat brick building.
There was a restaurant on the ground level and the windows on the top two floors were boarded
up.
Megamind went into the back room again. He hopped into the swivel chair again and spun
around. I think I know a simple way to have some idea of who else is on Corbin's payroll. And it
may even be rather fun. He grabbed onto the desk to stop the rotation.
Minion watched with a certain amount of consternation. If it had been up to him, he would have

been perfectly happy to melt back into the shadows and go back to doing what they had been
doing, which was getting the lair into habitable shape, breezing into stores in the wee hours of the
night to procure supplies, helping with whatever projects Sir came up with, keeping ahead of the
cops...even that young super-hero, Wayne Scott, was surprisingly easy to avoid. Once in a while
he snagged a criminal or two, or came to the aid of the fire department or other emergency service
providers, but mostly Wayne seemed more concerned with his schoolwork and his position as the
son of the wealthiest family in town than with being a full-time hero.
Minion liked being out of the prison. They might never have what others might consider normal
lives, but as long as he was with Megamind, he was happy. There was evil, and then there was
eee-vil, as Megamind sometimes said. Despite Megaminds grand ideas, but it seemed to him that
Megamind mostly did what was necessary to keep them autonomous. They couldn't have regular
jobs, so they stole what they needed. They couldn't rent or buy a regular house, so they took over
a perfectly good building that was standing idle. They couldn't depend on the law for protection,
so they protected themselves.
There was no need to go looking for trouble. Minion would have been perfectly happy to
disappear into the back alleys and the shadows again, and not have anything to do with this agent.
But Megamind was thinking. He had a look of disatissfaction on his face that did not bode well for
Corbin. Minion could tell that Megamind was looking for a way to get back at him, to prove
something, either to himself or to that agent. Megamind liked to make things go his way.
Like with all those people who tried to take his photo. Megamind got fed up with that pretty
quick, and decided that the best way to deter the pests was to make it financially painful for them
to pursue him. Minion had been a little uneasy about all the muggings, but the thing is, it had
worked. On the rare occasions he and Sir walked down a street, the people just melted away. And
now Megamind, pleased to have gotten his way, sometimes actually sought out photo
opportunities.
Are you going to hack into their system, Sir?
In a way, Minion, in a way, Megamind said. But not for the purpose of uncovering
information. It would be far more prudent to come up with a decryption program back at the lair.
They probably have all kinds of whistles and bells set to go off if someone starts digging around. I
wonder...how quickly they would respond if someone did try hacking in. He drummed his
fingers on the chair.
Megamind, grinning, gave Minion a brief sideways look. Want to see what happens? He typed
'Department of Paranormal Investigations' into the search engine.
Um... Minion gulped. Do we have to?
Megamind clicked 'Go.'
------------------In a corner office of the Federal Building, a light began blinking.
-------------------Megamind found exactly one page, which dryly described the function of DPI as a department
that came about in order to more effectively focus on the growing challenges posed by those who
had super powers. And that was it. The director was named, the central office was in Washington,
D.C., and there were other offices in five other cities, with the one in Metrocity being the newest.

Megamind did a bit more unauthorized digging, so he would be certain to set off at least one
alarm. That should do it, he said. Let's be off.
--------------Minutes later, two cars pulled up to the front of the building. Two more blocked the back street.
Corbin got out of the driver's side. A rather hairy man got out of the passenger seat. He badly
needed a shave, which wouldn't have been all that unusual, except this man needed to shave his
forehead, his ears, and his nose, though the tip of said nose gleamed wetly. His pointed ears
drooped slightly. When the other men got out of the other car and slammed their doors, one of the
ears flicked, as if dislodging a fly.
I still don't see why I had to come, the hairy man grumbled. You've got the men you need, the
building surrounded. I have to re-organize the archives today.
In case he runs, Ulrich, Corbin said impatiently. You've got the scent. Corbin pressed his lips
together. This had to be more than someone casually nosing around the Internet. Whoever was
looking at the DPI website was attempting to access its secret employee records. His pulse
quickened. When he got his hands on that little freak he would take great pleasure in retrieving his
stolen property.
Search the basement, Corbin ordered. Close all exits.
--------------Corbin and the other agents were quickly discovering that the basement was, in fact, just a
basement, and was not housing any runaway alien delinquents. Ulrich sulked in the stairwell.
Corbin had not been happy that Ulrich detected nothing in the basement more suspicious than rat
droppings and mold.
This is the place, right, Brad? Corbin said into his phone.
The alarm was tripped by a computer up on the top floor, Brad said gloomily. I told you it was
from Computer Solutions. If you---
Corbin hung up.
Top floor, he ordered.
Some of the took the stairs while others covered the elevator. The door to Computer Solutions was
locked. Corbin kicked it in, slamming it open so hard that the glass cracked.
The employees were freed from the closet, though they were not treated very gently by their
rescuers. DPI agents were used to encountering people with unusual and sometimes fatally
surprising abilities, and tended to react strongly to anyone even remotely suspicious. It was better
to be safe than sorry, especially if being sorry meant getting blasted by a sonic scream, or fried by
laser eyesight. The unfortunate workers were bound.
Where are they? Corbin demanded. He intended to question these men, very closely, but later,
after Megamind was in hand. They might be friends of Megamind; it was possible hed stuffed
them in the closet just to make them look like innocent victims.
How should we know? I think one of your guys stepped on my inhaler, one of them wheezed
accusingly. Who did you say you were again? CSI?
Corbin turned away in annoyance. That was the trouble with being part of a new agency. You

had to keep explaining all the time.

Ulrich, pick up his trail, he ordered.
Stomping all over, Ulrich grumbled. You and your men mess it up.
Quit complaining and get on with it, Corbin snapped.
------------In the brick building across the street, half a block down, Megamind and Minion peered through
cracks in the boarded window. Minion was a-flutter with nervousness. He thought that when Sir
said Lets be off they would actually be leaving. Theyd left by the roof again, the same way
theyd come in, but instead of heading back to their vehicle, they took a roundabout trail through
the back alleys and circled around to this hiding place.
Megamind smiled grimly. Response time, fourteen minutes, he murmured. Not bad, I suppose.
They look like pretty standard human issue agent types. He peered upward. No sign of any
flying entities.
Minion hadnt thought of that. Flying... Sir, how were you planning on escaping if there were?
Dont be such a worrywart, said Megamind. Im sure a solution would have presented itself.
Hmmm. He rubbed his chin. I really should have given this a little more thought.
Minion glanced at him in mild surprise. An admission that this might have been a mistake? Yeah,
but we can still get to---
As amusing as it is to know they are on a wild goose chase, I should have planted a booby trap,
Megamind chuckled. So Corbin could booby right into it!
Make him even madder? Minion said gloomily.
Precisely! Megamind said happily.
There was movement on the roof. Some men had come out of the service stairs. One of them was
Corbin. That intense blond head was unmistakable. Another man had a gray and white face, as if
he were wearing paint. Megamind squinted. Had the wind just ruffled his...fur?
The furry man curled his lips back over his teeth and jerked his head up and down a few times, as
if he were tasting the air, or trying to nudge aside a giant invisible fluffy blanket. The furry man
hunched over and was lost to sight. The low wall that circled the roof hid him from view.
Megamind narrowed his eyes.
Corbin and the other men moved swiftly across the roof, and the hairy man reappeared on top of
the wall. With fluid grace he leaped lightly over to the next building and was lost to sight again.
The men following him began to run.
Megamind didnt believe in werewolves. He did, however, believe in lab experiments gone
horribly wrong. It was happening more and more these days.
Megaminds eyes gleamed. A tracker. Is this the best that Corbin could do? He knew exactly how
to throw this one off.
Ive seen enough, Minion, he said. Time for a strategic retreat. He grinned. And it looks like
I get to set a booby trap after all.

--------------The noise level was rising in the kitchen of the Golden Phoenix Restaurant, as the prep cooks got
ready for the nightly rush, but the loud bang as the back door crashed open made them all look up
in surprise from their tasks.
The blue one charged around the kitchen, snatched a jug of wasabi off the counter and lobbed it at
the floating-fish robot, who caught it.
{The freak!} Hong burst out.
Megamind skidded to a halt so quickly that the floating-fish robot almost plowed into him.
{Who said that!} Megamind snapped. Furious green eyes raked over the motionless cooks. A
pot of soup was beginning to boil over, but no one made a move toward it.
The alien walked right up to Hong.
{It was you, wasn't it,} he said. {Say that again. I may have misunderstood. My Mandarin is
rusty.}
Sir, what are you doing? the floating-fish cyborg cried. Ordering takeout?
Megamind ignored him. He looked prepared to stand there all day, if necessary, as if he hadn't, in
fact, been making a mad dash for the exit only seconds before. His eyes bored into Hong's.
Hong clutched his bok choy to his chest.
{I...said...it is the...very handsome and...distinguished...alien boy, paying a visit to our humble
establishment,} Hong said, inventing wildly.
Megamind smiled, his lips a thin line. {That's what I thought,} he said. He glanced off to the
side, then grabbed the bottle of hot sauce off the counter. Turning on his heel, he strolled calmly
toward the exit. The robot made a few helpless flapping gestures with his arms as if he would like
give him a little shove to hurry him along, but didn't quite dare.
The door closed behind them. The cooks looked at each other. Lee went over to the stove to
rescue the soup.
{Youd think he was from Shanghai,} Hong muttered.
Lee snorted. {With that accent?} she said. {I'd say Beijing.}
-----------------Ulrich followed the trail across the rooftops easily. The servant was a vague mix of metal, grease,
and damp gears, and would be quite hard to follow normally. There were so many things in the
city that smelled of metal and grease. But the scent of the alien boy was unmistakable. The food
he'd eaten, the places he'd visited, the clothes he wore, it all marked him. The scent was
surprisingly human. Ulrich supposed it was because the boy had lived on the planet since infancy.
Still, every individual creature had its own subtly unique scent, and Megamind was no exception.
Across three buildings, then down the stairs. He remembered to pause at the bottom of the stairs to
let the agents catch up.
You got the trail? Corbin panted.

Of course, Ulrich said. But here the trail separates.

You mean they've separated?
No. Still together. But one trail older. But...if he came this way... Ulrich pointed down the alley,
...why didn't he go back there? Why did he cross over...
I'm not paying you to think, Corbin snapped. Follow the fresher trail. And if the two of them
do separate, get after Megamind.
It was a winding trail, too, that he almost lost when it went across a street, but luckily he picked it
up again on the other side, and went along through a backlot, and alleys, always right turns. He
seemed to be circling around.
The shouting of the agents finally got through to him and, snorting in annoyance, he stopped.
You'd think that federal agents would be in better shape. He paused only briefly, though, just long
enough for them to get caught up, and then he was off again.
Right outside the Golden Phoenix Restaurant the trail got suddenly very fresh and his blood roared
in his ears. The boy had gone into the building, then come out again. No need to go inside.
Ulrich surged forward, face close to the ground, muscles stretching and contracting, in a glorious
feeling of speed and power. There was only the briefest whiff on the air, a hint of sharpness, and
his rational side yanked back hard on the reins, and he skidded to a halt right before he ran face
first into the lake of hot pepper sauce that was puddled across the ground. He yelped as the violent
sting of the spices assailed him. He clapped a hand over his nose and backed up hurriedly,
growling.
That sneaky, cunning...! Oh, he was a clever one! To lay such a trap. But Ulrich wasn't fooled!
He'd gotten a little sting from the hot sauce, but had avoided a full treatment. The little boy's trick
had failed!
There were a few pedestrians about, but Ulrich paid them no heed, and they speedily took to the
other side of the street at the sight of him. He blew his nose and took great gulps of air to clear his
sinuses. The sting in his nose faded somewhat.
Some people had walked through the sauce already, sending at least four confusing trails in
different directions...but the blue boy had not touched the sauce himself. Ha! After some very
careful sniffing, edging around the overpowering hotness, Ulrich soon picked up the boy's
untrammeled scent again.
Corbin, gasping for breath, was yelping at him and demanding to know what was going on, but
he ignored him.
He leaped over the hot sauce and surged ahead.
He didn't stop to think that maybe there might be more than one trap.
With the lingering scent of the hot sauce still throbbing in his nasal passages, he failed to notice the
wasabi until he plowed through it, and inhaled it.
-----------------Corbin stared at the howling Ulrich, who was trying to claw his way through a storefront, or
possibly he was trying to remove his own snout.

Useless. Why was everybody so damn useless? He glanced around. A number of fascinated
onlookers were watching the show from a safe distance. Through the plate glass window, Corbin
could see a few people huddled around the cash register.
Time for him to take charge.
Stand back, folks, he announced. Everythings under control.
Corbin walked toward Ulrich. He reached into his pocket and felt the remote slip into his hand.
Ulrich, he said sharply.
Rrrrhhhwhhaaat! Ulrich roared, turning red-rimmed, streaming eyes on him. The wolfs mane
on his neck bristled around his flattened ears. He took a few menacing steps forward, and Corbin
pressed the button. Ulrich went rigid as the electrode in his collar sent a charge of electricity
through him. He fell to the ground, twitiching.
Corbin looked at him impassively. Take him back, he ordered his men. Bind his arms. Better
put him in a cell until he recovers.
They moved to obey and he turned away. He scuffed his foot through the remains of the innocentlooking wasabi powder scattered over the sidewalk. Face hardening, he gazed into the distance.
It was time for a more conventional, investigative approach.
--------That was fun. Wasnt that fun, Minion? Megamind said, laughing heartily.
Minion paused before answering. Sir, he finally said in a strained voice, I dont mean to be
critical, but I would like to respectfully point out that we could have easily gotten to our vehicle,
way ahead of that tracker, without all that...
Oh, poor Minion, Megamind chuckled. He grabbed Minion around the shoulders and shook
him good-naturedly. Minion glared at the road and kept both hands on the wheel. Ill have to do
something about that stuffy English butler program you somehow got installed! Im not making it
easy for you, am I?
No, youre not. And Im not stuffy, Minion muttered sullenly.
Megamind was unabashed. He gave Minions shoulders another vigorous shake and laughed
again. Oh come on! That was fun! Just think of the look on that beast mans face! On Corbins
face!
Megaminds glee was infectious. Minion could feel himself weakening. Almost against his will he
could feel his mouth stretching into a grin.
Probably was pretty funny, he muttered reluctantly.
Megamind laughed and flopped back into his own seat.
You know, Ill bet they thought theyd found the lair. Theyre probably still searching the
basement!
Minions face split into a broad grin. Yeah, he said, chuckling. Yeah! Guess we showed
them.

Who are these federales! Megamind said. Just a glorified, overpaid, hoity-toity branch of law
enforcement! Cops with designer sunglasses! Well, I've shown Metrocity's finest a thing or two!
I'll bet I can run rings around the feds! Let's go get that tracking device he tried to plant on me last
night.
Minion stopped laughing. What? But...
I'll disable it.
Why didnt you just do that last night?
We would have lost the element of surprise! It hardly matters now. Corbin already knows I'm on
to his little game. There's no reason to hide the fact that I discovered his clever little tracking
device. I can use it. Ill be able to develop a scanner specifically for ferreting out such devices. No
one will plant anything on me again if I have anything to say about it!
-----------------The sky was darkening by the time they approached Sunway Drive, one of the roads that led to
Tanaka Industries. Two ragged men were picking through the trash cans along the sidewalk.
Minion pulled up to the curb. Megamind got out and strode forward, with every confidence that
the bums would turn tail.
One of the men, with a bomber hat that had ear flaps that stuck out straight from the sides of his
head, giving him the look of a surprised bloodhound, stared at him wide-eyed. Then his face split
into a wide grin.
Hey, Code Blue! he cried and came at him with arms extended.
Megamind blinked. The man grabbed one of Megamind's hands with both of his own and began
pumping his arm vigorously.
A shadow fell over the shaggy man's delighted face.
Stop! Megamind ordered sharply. This was addressed to Minion, who, still smarting over his
failure to protect Sir last night, had been about to intercept the man with extreme prejudice. Easy,
Minion. Dont overreact.
Minion's lips were curled back to expose his teeth, and his clawed hands were within an inch of
the man's head. He quivered with restrained violence, then he pulled his hands back with an
ominous creak.
Bomber Hat bestowed his radiant smile on the smoldering Minion. He seemed blissfully unaware
that he'd been about to have his head pulled off.
Perhaps Megamind shouldnt have assumed that there wasnt any danger, but hed seen that the
mans hands were empty of weapons. And he didnt think that most attackers would have such a
joyous expression on their faces. Unless it was a very special kind of attacker, but Megamind
suspected he was dealing with a different kind of crazy.
He was still shaking Megamind's hand and showed no signs of stopping. Megamind felt like his
feet were about to vibrate right off the ground. He wasn't used to people being happy to see him.
Annoyed, frightened, wary, enraged... these were all typical and common reactions. But
delighted?

Then the wind shifted and he became acutely aware of the smell. As if he were shaking hands
with the combined contents of a dumpster and the prison's month-old laundry hamper. But
somehow, he couldn't find it in his heart to yank his hand free, or even cover his nose. It would be
like kicking six puppies at once. The man was so overjoyed.
He looked around at the other homeless man, to see if any help was in the offing. The other man,
cigarette dangling almost straight down from his partially open mouth, was standing behind one of
the trash cans, eying him nervously. Megamind felt that he was on more familiar ground here.
Code Blue? Megamind said.
The other man licked his lips. Uh...yeah...it's...
It's what we say when we hear you've been by, man! the vigorous hand-shaker burst out. If
anything his smile grew a couple more inches. You go to a store, the whole place is left wide
open, wide open, man, all that free stuff, man, I even slept overnight a coupla times!
He showed no signs of releasing Megamind's hand. It was getting numb. He began to pull back a
bit, to see if he could extract it without the use of heavy equipment.
Oh, I see, he said, pulling his head back just a little more out of the smell stream. I visit a store,
I've left the place unlocked and you...gentlemen...pay the place a visit, too.
Cigarette man grinned nervously. We call it a 'Code Blue'. It's just, you know, to let everybody
know there's a door open. Everybody knows what it means. You dont mind, do you, mister?
No, no, I suppose not. He might have to use the Jaws of Life to get his hand back. Under the
circumstances, it is...not inappropriate.
I think you've thanked him enough, Curly. He's a little excited, he said apologetically.
Curly looked at his friend, turned to Megamind again, and carefully, almost reverently, opened his
hands and released Megamind's. Curly raised his own hands, ducked his head and stepped back.
Geez, the guy was practically bowing. Megamind resisted the urge to wipe his hand against his
shirt.
Have you been here long? It's rather far outside the usual zone, isn't it? Megamind asked.
Tanaka Industries was at the very edge of the city limits, and there was little else within miles,
other than farmland.
Me and Reg took the bus out here! Curly exclaimed. They got their own restaurant in that
place, man, some of the best stuff. He nodded toward the distant bulk of the buildings.
Megamind pitied the other people on the bus. He stepped to the side so the wind was in his face.
I'm looking for something I left here last night, he said. Curly's smile hadn't slipped an inch. He
gazed at Megamind with eagerness, as if he expected a treat. Megamind turned his back and
studied the garbage cans, painfully aware of Curly's attentions. Okay, yes, it was that can. That's
where he'd stowed the tracking device.
He found a few cups, but no tracking device. He was sure this was the right one, but to be certain,
he went up and down the walk to search a few of the other garbage cans, too. Curly and Minion
trailed along like a miniature entourage. Curly wore an expression of happy amazement. Minion
was scowling, as if he regretted not taking the man's head off after all.
You could make yourself useful, Minion, he snapped. Curly's adoring eyes were getting on his

nerves. Look over there. I left it in a paper cup. Minion clumped away, pouting.
It could have fallen out. It was so small, it could have been tipped out by the scavengers,
unnoticed. If it had fallen out of the cup it could have ended up anywhere. It could be at the
bottom of the can, or lodged in something disgusting. How badly did he really need it? Maybe not
enough to go scrounging around in the garbage. Surely he could come up with a generalized allpurpose scanner that could detect tracking devices, no matter their origin.
There was surprisingly little traffic on this road, which was fortunate, but a dump truck and a
sedan had passed by since they arrived. How long before their presence was reported? Did people
even care anymore? His appearances were probably no longer even cause for excitement. Perhaps
only enough for witnesses to comment on it to their buddies. Hey, you know I saw that blue kid
on the road the other day? Yeah, seriously! He was goin' through the trash. This was not an
activity that was doing his image any good.
Megamind hesitated, then addressed Reg, who seemed to be the saner of the two. I don't suppose
either of you found anything of an electronic nature during your...excavations?
Reg stamped out the cigarette then fished another partially squashed stub from behind his ear.
You mean, like a computer? he asked.
No, it would have been small, smaller than a bottle cap.
He shrugged. Sorry. Don't think so. He bent over to block out the wind and lit up the dog-end.
Hey, is it a radio? Curly said excitedly. A communicator? You lookin' for a sign from the
mothership?
Curly, Reg grimaced. Don't bother him! Don't---
It's all right. It's nothing. Don't worry about it, Megamind said quickly. He sighed. I guess I
don't really need it anyway.
Mothership. Dont I wish. He had sometimes speculated with Minion about the possibility that
they were not the only survivors of their doomed world, that other Calli and ichthyoids had
escaped the black hole. It was exciting to imagine that someday a mighty intergalactic cruiser
would appear in the sky, with tremendous fanfare and alarm from the residents of Earth, and he
and Minion would triumphantly walk aboard, heads held high...
...until he remembered how vast the universe was, and, even if there were other survivors, the
chances of the Calli locating them were infinitely, mind-bogglingly, depressingly small.
It was a fantasy. A childish daydream that always led to soul-sucking gloom, and he pushed it
away.
He looked at the beaming Curly. A corner of aluminum foil peeked out from under his cap.
There's...a mission on Cook Avenue, he said hesitantly. They've got showers, and...and soap.
There, he said it. Surely the man knew he smelled. You'd think his friend Reg would have
broached the matter at some point.
Curly's smile disappeared, replaced by horror. Can't use soap. Are you crazy, man? You know
all those additives and chemicals and detergents are poisonous, man, he said leaning in close in a
conspiritorial whisper. Megamind leaned back. Aaargh. The odor practically had a physical
presence.

Never touch the stuff, Curly said, straightening up, much to Megamind's relief. It gives ya
cancer. Megamind glanced at Reg, who shrugged and shook his head.
Well, he said, I suppose I'd better be going, then. He turned on his heel and walked back to
the van.
-----------------That was so cool, man! Curly said. I got to shake his hand!
Reg grunted noncomitally as he sifted through some cardboard containers.
When the blue people come, I'm gonna be the spokesman, man, Curly said dreamily. I can
show 'em around, show 'em the ropes.
Reg nodded. Yeah, you do that, Curly. That'll be somethin' won't it? he muttered. He leaned
down to rummage under a pile of old newspapers. There was a promising aroma of a takeout
container with perfectly good leftovers wafting into the air.
Curly turned his back and strolled, real casual-like, down the sidewalk a ways. He cautiously
looked from right to left, and, glancing back to make sure that Reg was occupied, he reached into
his pocket and took out a white paper napkin. Reg was a nice guy, but he didnt understand, and
he worried so much.
Curly unfolded the little scrap. The tracking device lay in the center of the white square. He leaned
in close and licked his lips nervously. What should he say?
We'll be ready for you guys, man, just leave everything to ol' Curly, he whispered. I'll keep
you safe. Got my special hat, so's the guvment can't read my mind. He lifted his bomber hat so
the object could get a good view of his winter-grade aluminum foil hat underneath. The pyramid
shape wasn't absolutely essential, except in summer, when the sun's rays were at their peak. In
winter, he made do with overlapping triangles. Then he could easily hide it under his warm hat.
Your communicator is safe with me.
He nodded and smiled at the little device. There must an intergalactic camera in there, like the
Hubble. He wanted to make sure the blue people knew he was friendly.
He felt guilty about hiding it from Megamind, but Curly had so few special things in his life. He
promised himself that if any secret messages from the blue people came through, hed be sure to
let Megamind know.

Chapter End Notes

Yes, he got the wasabi powder, a Japanese condiment, from a Chinese restaurant, but
Chinese restaurants in the U.S. often feature a few non-Chinese items such as pizza,
spinach with cheese, and sushi with wasabi sauce. (At least they do in Minnesota.)
Also, the term for describing a skill as being 'rusty' may not actually exist in
Chinese...but I took the liberty of using it. It just sounds right to my English-speaking

ears.

The Calm Before the Storm

Megamind moved the slide of the semi-automatic into place. It made a very satisfying click.
There! he said triumphantly. Told you I remembered how.
Never doubted it for a second, Sir, Minion said from behind the refrigerator.
I didn't even load the magazine, you guppy, Megamind said. And if this thing did go off, the
bullet would've gone right through the fridge, so I don't know why you even bothered to hide
back there.
Al Kopecki, the only guard to win the title of 'uncle,' had taken Megamind aside one day---or
rather, he'd taken young Blue aside one day--- and showed him how to disassemble and
reassemble Al's own personal semi-automatic.
Megamind never knew why Uncle Al did this. It was shortly after he'd gotten the boot from that
sad excuse of a school, the warden had confiscated the de-gun, and he was still reeling from the
revelation that, if he continued to behave in a less than stellar fashion, the dark government men
would bundle him and Minion off to some dreaded lab for some serious dissection.
Megamind remembered that time as being depressing and nerve-wracking, emphasis on
'wracking'. He couldn't stop jumping at shadows, and he refused to go outside. Being out under
the open sky in the courtyard, he felt horribly exposed, as if missiles were about to rain down from
above. Certainly there must be spy satellites up there, at the very least, chronicling his every move!
Megamind could scoff at such ridiculous notions now, from the grand vantage point of his allknowing teenage heights, but the danger had seemed very real to his younger self.
Perhaps Uncle Al had wanted to compensate for the recent hard knocks that Blue had endured.
Knowing how to take apart and put together the semi-automatic had given young Blue a sense of
power, and having a secret, well, that was pure gold.
Al only had a high school education, and frequently joked about it, but sometimes Megamind
suspected that Al felt bad about his lack of education, and wanted to be able to impart some
knowledge to the young genius in his care, and the proper handling of weapons was something
that Al knew.
It was a terrible risk. The warden would've had Al's head if he'd found out. But, Megamind
thought smugly, he never did.
He went over to the cabinet where they kept their increasing supply of weaponry. They'd
accumulated several guns of differing types in the course of their nightly excursions, one from a
luckless mugger. The others they had found in stores, under counters, locked in back rooms, along
with an array of pepper sprays, mace, baseball bats, and truncheons. In certain parts of town,
where police response time was depressingly slow, or even non-existent, many citizens trusted
strongly in the immediate results of self-protection. It was all well and good to call the police after
the carnage was over, but in order to do that, one had to be physically capable of dialing the
phone.
Minion edged out from his haven. That wouldn't go through the fridge, he said doubtfully,
casting a wary eye on the gun.
It would, Megamind declared, putting it back with its brethren. Bullets go through walls all the

It would, Megamind declared, putting it back with its brethren. Bullets go through walls all the
time.
Would not.
Would too.
Care to put your theory to the test? Megamind boomed, whirling around with the gun in his
hand again.
Not here, not here! Minion shouted, holding his hands out in front of him.
Megamind cackled. Of course not here, he said, grinning evilly. Not on my fridge!
--------------The van roared to a stop in the middle of Goob's Junkyard. Megamind leaped out with the boom
box and hit the play button. Metallica filled the air.
Aaaaaaoooow, Sir! Minion whined. We've listened to that like a bazillion times already! I like
Metallica, but if I have to hear 'Enter Sandman' again...
Bazillion isn't a number, Minion! Megamind said. But if it were, then this would be... a
bazillion and one! Now. Find me a refrigerator so I may send it to its doom.
The results of the semi-automatic on the junkyard refrigerator were inconclusive. Some bullets
went through the door but lodged in the back, and a couple 'ping'-ed right off. Megamind moved
on to testing the power of the brand-spanking-new setting for his de-gun.
The 'de-stroy' setting.
Megamind chose his victim, a decrepit Cadillac, and took aim.
Minion said, Uh, shouldn't we get behind...
Megamind pulled the trigger.
The Cadillac erupted. They staggered and ran back from the flames. A magnificent fireball
ascended to the heavens, briefly making the junkyard as bright as day.
Whoaaaaa, Minion breathed.
Yes. Whoa, Megamind concurred, chuckling. Gas tank must have still been in that one.
Hey. Hey, Sir, Minion said, nudging him. Try that washing machine.
Stand back, Megamind shouted. He stepped into the warm red circle of light of the burning
Caddy. I'm a professional! Don't try this at home! he laughed. Look! One handed shot.
He planted his feet like a gunslinger from the Old West and swept back his coat from the equallybrand-spanking-new holster. The bulky coat did not stay swept, but promptly lumbered back into
its all-enveloping position. Teeth gritted in annoyance, Megamind pulled the coat off and tossed it
aside.
There! Much better.
Reach for the sky! he shouted at the luckless washer. He waggled his fingers over the handle of

the de-gun, then whipped it out and fired. A crackle of blue energy spread over the washer, then it
exploded, raining pieces of metal over the landscape.
A perfect shot, Megamind shouted, grinning. I pity the next appliance to cross paths with ME!
He spun the gun on his finger twice before it fell off. Hurriedly he scooped it up from the ground.
Minion laughed. They won't know what hit 'em, Sir!
They spent a merry half hour or so blowing things up. Minion threw tires into the air for
Megamind to shoot.
Heave! Megamind shouted.
Heave ho! Minion responded, and flung the tire into the sky.
It was tricky; the black tires were tough to spot against the night sky, even with the clouds that
trapped some of the city lights, and sometimes the tires crashed to the earth before they exploded.
Megamind took aim, but a very familiar sound on the edge of his hearing made him look over his
shoulder. The tire bounced, unscathed, onto a pile of rusty car parts.
Megamind made a vigorous arm-flapping motion at Minion to cut the music. Minion turned the
boom box off. There was the sound of approaching sirens.
Oh, dear, Megamind drawled. The authorities. Whatever shall we do?
They returned to the trusty van and soon left the sirens behind them.
----------------In his bedroom, Wayne Scott sighed as the sirens reached his ears. He'd almost convinced himself
that those muffled explosions were just some car or truck backfiring, but the sirens seemed to
indicate otherwise. He turned up the music a little louder on his headphones and tried harder to
concentrate on his history paper.
After a long, long talk with Dad about the importance of education, they worked out a
compromise. Wayne was able to convince Dad to allow him to keep helping out the Metro City
police, but only after he got all his homework done, and only if it didn't violate curfew. Serving
the public good was all very well, Lord Scott declared, but the MCPD had been doing just fine
before Wayne began volunteering to help out, and they could continue to do so without his
help. The way that Lord Scott said volunteering, it sounded on a par with going around
smashing mailboxes or toilet-papering people's yards.
Wayne sighed again and cast a longing look toward the window. Maybe just a quick fly-over, to
see what...no, he'd promised. Not until everything was finished. He wished his super-speed
worked on class work. But it didn't seem to lend itself to super-fast thinking, or even writing,
though you'd think it would, since writing at least was a physical act. He was still learning the
enormity of his powers...and his limits.
He concentrated on his paper and tried again.
Our founding fathers, when they heard about the Boston Massacre, felt real...
'Felt real bad'? That didn't sound right. Maybe 'outraged.' Yeah, that was a good word.
I'll bet Blue would've had this thing whipped in no time, Wayne thought unexpectedly, and

wondered where the thought came from. Anyway, he called himself 'Megamind' now.
Wayne had, quite frankly, given very little thought to Megamind over the years, at least until the
news broke about his escape. It disturbed him that the weird little blue kid really had been living at
the prison. He thought that he lived with the warden. Lord Scott said that it was because
Megamind was so obviously a danger to society, a born criminal if ever there was one.
Wayne didn't like to contradict his dad because it was disrespectful. Certainly the law had to be
obeyed or there would be chaos. He was not much given to introspection, but once in a while he
thought that, if he were in Megamind's shoes, and had been locked away in prison all his life... as
if there could be a prison strong enough to hold me, Wayne though smugly...then he might want
to escape, too.
Such thoughts didn't sit right with Wayne, so he didn't worry about it too much. The law was the
law, and that was that. Part of the fabric that held society together, like obeying your parents, and
keeping your word. Wayne bent over his desk again and got back to work.
After a few minutes he began to idly write out a few names of his own.
The Defender... Muscle Man (bleah)... Metro City Boy ...
--------------Megamind and Minion came across a red 1969 Shelby GT 500. A Mustang! Just sitting there at
the curb! Practically begging to be stolen.
There was some laughable excuse of a car alarm, which Megamind quickly squelched. No one
paid attention to car alarms anyway, other than to curse them out and hope they quit making a
racket.
Can I have the key-o-matic, Sir? Minion asked as Megamind began to climb into his new
vehicle. I need to pick up some supplies before the storm...
But of course, Filet Mignon! Megamind proclaimed, tossing him the item in question. He
hopped into his new car and took off with a squeal of tires for a quick spin around the metro.
--------------As Minion pulled into the lair, he heaved a sigh of relief. The new Mustang was parked smack
dab in the middle of the main floor. He parked the van next to the basement door and got out. He
walked around the new car, searching carefully for signs of chaos, for any scrapes, dents, or bullet
holes, but the vehicle seemed intact.
He went back to the van to begin carrying the bottled water downstairs. The strains of Black
Sabbath, at a surprisingly low volume, greeted him when he entered the basement.
Megamind was busy at the computer.
Sorry I'm late, Sir, Minion said. Glad you made it back okay! He soon had all the boxes, and
bottles and things neatly arranged on the shelves. I had a hard time finding what we needed.
People really cleaned off the shelves. I had to go to eight different stores.
Minion edged past the computer, circumspectly trying to see what Megamind was working on.
Working on that decryption code, Sir? he asked. Megamind made an impatient gesture with one
arm, shook his head, and went through a series of facial contortions which Minion interpreted as:

Decryption boring. Have moved on. Attempting to process new idea. Do Not Bother Me.
Minion tiptoed away, biting his lip, his little heart beating a bit faster with anticipation. Sir was
occupied! And from the look of it, he would be busy for quite some time. Now Minion could get a
good look at those video games!
He hastily made a cup of cocoa, loaded it with extra marshmallows, and heated a microwave hot
pocket. He put the food and the cup at Megamind's elbow and, because hope and optimism were
ingrained in his psyche, he measured out some Good 'n' Bountiful Certified Organic Trail Mix
into a bowl and placed that next to the hot pocket as well. Then he retreated to the television
console and hooked up the game system.
It might have been better if Minion had at least tried to coax his master to turn his brilliant mind
back to working on the decryption code, and unlocking the secrets of DPI, and uncovering some
ammunition to use against Corbin. But Minion was young, too, his duties weighed heavily on
him, and he wanted to relax.
There are times when the best action to take is no action at all.
This was not one of those times.
--------------------Three hours later, Megamind straightened up with a groan. He stretched and turned his head from
side to side, working the kinks out. Mind control was looking to be a no-go. Controlling even a
small number of construction workers to fix up the lair would be nearly impossible. The
brainwashing and hypnotism tricks they showed in the movies just did not translate well to real
life. Plus, all those people disappearing at once was a big red flag. He was uneasy about a bunch
of strangers wandering around the lair in any case, even if they wouldn't be able to remember
anything, and he wouldn't be able to guarantee that they wouldn't.
Even victims of mind control still had bodily functions that would need to be taken care of. They'd
have to feed and shelter everybody, arrange for bathroom breaks, sleep schedules...what a
headache!
No, he would have to go back to his original idea. To build machines to do the work.
He looked over to where Minion was playing video games and tried not to be annoyed. Well, he
had given permission for Minion to delve into them when he found the chance, even if video
games were a mind-numbing, brain-cell-killing, drone-producing waste of time.
Megamind looked at the formerly hot cocoa. It had turned to sludge. The hot pocket was ice cold.
He made a face at the trail mix. This was something that he never wanted to eat even when it was
fresh, and Minion had procured it weeks ago.He didn't care if it was natural. So was hemlock. The
trail mix had raisins in it, and something called 'banana chips.' He got up to find something more
appetizing.
There was half a jar of peanut butter left. He poured in some chocolate chips, butterscotch chips,
and sprinkles, and stirred it around thoughtfully. It still needed something. After a brief rummage
among the shelves he threw in a few marshmallows.
Munching, he wandered over to the television, where Minion was doing battle on the screen.
Minion's shoulders jerked as he yanked the control panel around. Occasionally he muttered aw,
nuts! as some action went haywire. Megamind slowed as he approached the couch. Minion was
utterly captivated. Privately he thought that Minion should not engage in this mindless drivel, but

the way his eyes lit up when he sorted through the Tanaka case and its trove of video game prototypes had not gone unnoticed. He didn't have the heart to forbid it.
Megamind watched the action for a minute. Then: You overshot.
Huh? Minion grunted. Oh. Get next one.
Megamind glanced at him. The game appeared to be affecting Minion's vocal skills in a
detrimental manner.
There! Megamind said abruptly. He waved a hand at the TV. You missed that one too. He
looked closely at Minion to gauge his reaction.
Minion, glassy-eyed, didn't even blink. There's lots. Don't matter.
What do you mean it doesn't matter? Megamind cried. You could have picked up another 500
points and three additional life-force capsules!
There was a discouraging blat of music from the game. 'Game Over' flashed. Minion groaned and
fell back into the couch.
See? Megamind sniffed.
Minion scowled at him in a most uncharacteristic fashion. I'd like to see you do better, he
muttered.
Megamind slowly turned to him, a crooked sneer on his mouth. Move over, he said.
------------The warden pulled up to the apartment building and let the car idle. Soon the prison security chief
came out of the door, zipping his coat against the cold.
Thanks for the ride, John, he said, slamming the door.
No trouble, said Parker. When are you getting a new car?
Soon's my ex gets remarried, I win the lottery, and move to Florida, Schmidt said, grinning.
What a place this is turning out to be, huh? Now we got werewolves running all over!
It was only one, Parker muttered, then shook his head at how ridiculous that sounded. The feds
were being very close-mouthed about the incident, and the news reports contradicted each other.
A few things were clear though. A strange fur-covered man was seen dashing through the street,
possibly chasing someone, or something, and then seemed to suffer a fit or seizure. He was
quickly taken down by government agents of the Department of Paranormal Investigations, but it
was unclear whether the agents had been tracking this man, or were his colleagues.
And Megamind and Minion had been spotted, too, in the same neighborhood about the same time.
Could this wolfman be an associate of the boy's?
His wife Joyce refused to entertain such notions. The more they heard about Megamind's crimes,
the less that Joyce believed it. While everyone else was prepared to believe the worst of him,
Joyce went in the opposite direction and steadfastly refused to believe that he was anything other
than the innocent victim of life's cruel circumstances. She maintained that it must all be some
misunderstanding, and would all get sorted out at some point. After the boy was corralled, of
course.

What worried Parker the most was the fact that federal agents were involved. The government had
mostly kept its distance, and Parker had expended a certain amount of effort to keep it that way,
but Megamind's escapades were sure to have reactivated interest in the case. They could use this
opportunity to claim that the security measures at the prison were inadequate, and use it as an
excuse to take Megamind and Minion away forever.
And what was DPI? Parker had never heard of that particular agency before.
Hey, stop here, I haven't had breakfast yet, Schmidt said.
We're going to be late, Parker said.
Schmidt chuckled. Just don't tell the boss, he said lightly.
Parker 'tch-ed' in both annoyance and amusement, and pulled in to the frontage road that led to the
Kum 'n' Go. He pulled up to one of the gas pumps and turned off the motor. He topped off the
tank while Schmidt went in to purchase a bagel and coffee. Parker passed him in the lot as he
went in to pay.
Why don't you just use a debit card? Schmidt said. Your bank will give you one, probably for
free, even. Saves ya a lot of trouble. You can pay right at the pump. That way you don't have to
waste time going inside. Schmidt had recently gotten a debit card and spoke about it at length
with all the fervor of a religious convert. 'Paying for gas right at the pump' was his credo.
Parker resisted all efforts to change from a perfectly good system of paying by check, no matter
how many times Schmidt told him that he was living in the stone age. Schmidt had long ago worn
out the other guards with his proselytizing, especially the younger ones who had been using cards
for ages. They had become quite capable at recognizing the glint of zeal in their superior's eye,
and were extremely good at being busy when they saw him coming down the hall, so as to avoid
lectures about the Wonders of Debit.
Checks still work, the last I heard, Parker said, and walked on. He pushed open the door to the
station, and walked into the overly bright lights and piped in muzak. There was an overstuffed
garbage bag sitting next to the counter. A few items of refuse had escaped from the bag's opening
and lay scattered on the floor.
Parker waited behind another customer, and looked thoughtfully at the young man behind the
counter, trying to remember where he'd seen him before. By the time it was his turn, he'd placed
him.
Pre-law, right? Parker said, smiling and pointing at him. He looked at the name tag. The guy
hadn't been wearing one last time. Ronnie.
Ronnie glanced up from the cash register, then looked down again and punched a few keys. Oh,
hey, Mr.....warden.
You can call me Mr. Parker, he said. How's the tutoring? Coming along all right?
Ronnie gave him a lopsided smile. Uh, yeah. Yeah. It's going good.
Parker nodded amiably and bent over the counter to write out the check. As he turned to leave his
foot kicked a ball of paper all the way to the door. Oops, he muttered, and walked over to pick it
up. The trash can by the door was closer. He tossed the paper into it and touched the handle to go
outside and back to the car...
...a word on a crumpled fold caught his eye...

Parker dove after it, banging his shoulder on the hood of the trash can.
It wasn't even a whole word. Just 'oscil-'.
But he would know that excited scrawl anywhere.
He smoothed the wad of paper open, and began a slow steady cursing under his breath. It was a
page torn out of a workbook, some kind of explanation on the first law of thermodynamics, and
Megamind's handwriting filled the margins and covered the back of it. A crossed-out sketch of an
'oscillating trebuchet' was the largest drawing. There were doodles. And even a little drawing of
Minion in the corner.
'Ronnie Jenkins' was written at the top.
He turned around. A young black woman was standing behind the counter. Ronnie was no where
in sight and the garbage bag was gone.
Can I help you? the young woman asked, glancing up at him.
Where is he? Parker snapped. She blinked at him, startled by his angry tone.
Ronnie, Parker said. Your co-worker. Where is he?
She pointed vaguely toward the back room. He...just left. His shift's over. He...wait a minute,
you're not supposed to...
Parker was already walking through the swinging doors marked 'Employees Only'. He went
through the dimly lit room, past sagging shelves and a cleaning cart, and out the back. He stood
there blinking for a moment, and saw Ronnie unlocking his car.
Parker walked swiftly over and grabbed the open car door. Ronnie, who had been about to climb
in, looked up with wide eyes.
Where is he? Parker demanded.
Ronnie gave a nervous chuckle and looked down and off to the side. I-I don't who you're talking
about, he said, his cheeks reddening. Parker held up the incriminating paper.
This is Megamind's handwriting! he said fiercely. When was he here?
Ronnie's mouth opened and closed a few times but nothing came out.
You do know he's a minor, right? Parker snapped. And the whole damn police force is looking
for him? That I'm looking for him? Or don't you watch the news!
He heard the sound of the station's back door squeaking open and looked over his shoulder.
Ronnie's co-worker glared suspiciously out at them.
You okay? she asked, giving Parker a stern look. You know this guy, Ronnie?
It's all right, Tanya, Ronnie said quickly. We're just talking. Clearly, Ronnie would have been
much happier being pretty much anywhere else, but he obviously didn't want his co-worker
overhearing this conversation.
Tanya, still frowning, slowly closed the door and went back inside.

Another suspicion tapped at Parker's mind. Is this your 'tutor'? he growled. What are you
doing, paying him to help you with your homework?
He just does it! Ronnie burst out. I asked him about a problem once, and he just did it all! And
he's the one pay... He stopped and grimaced, swallowing hard.
Parker stared at him, frowning.He's paying? Paying you? For what? The honor of doing your
homework?
Ronnie shrugged and made an exasperated noise. He just...you know...gives me a little money to
not tell anyone that he stops here. He always pays for stuff. Never steals anything. The homework
thing... Ronnie shrugged and grimaced again. He thinks it's funny. And now a note of
bitterness crept in. It's easy for him. This one time, he said, 'Are you certain this is a college-level
course? It does not seem very challenging. There's not even any mention of the...the Hindenburg
Principle!' Ronnie's impression was atrocious, but Parker could easily imagine Megamind
scowling at a sheaf of pages, flipping through them with a superior sneer.
Hindenburg Principle? Parker said.
Somethin' like that! Ronnie cried. I don't even know what he's talking about half the time!
Parker looked at the creased page again. Curiosity reared its head. He struggled with himself, then
gave in to the impulse.
So...how...is the work coming along? he asked. Are your grades improving?
Ronnie snorted. Yeah. They're too good! I have to go back and put in some wrong answers.
Some of the profs were getting suspicious.
Parker pressed his lips together in a thin line. Last year, after a tremendous amount of lecturing,
badgering, and outright pleading, he convinced Megamind to take the GRE. Getting a high school
diploma was so easily within the boy's reach. Any number of convicts had achieved this relatively
simple step of improving their chances for a better life. And Parker begged him, begged him, to
put his legal name at the top of the page, just this once. Otherwise the test wouldn't be valid.
Writing 'John Doe' on a paper was not going to kill him.
Megamind capitulated, with a lot of groaning and eye-rolling.
It was arranged. Parker had wanted to observe, to make sure the boy behaved himself, but he
didn't want to make the other test-takers nervous. Having one's warden in the room, sitting quietly
in the corner, could put some convicts off their game. For some of these men, even the act of
holding a pencil without breaking it was a monumental task, so Parker stayed away, but he heard
the whole story later from one of the guards.
Megamind sat in the exam chair for several minutes, squirming, jiggling his leg, and drumming his
fingers on the table. He twiddled the pencil, wagging it back and forth, and tapping it on the table,
until a convict in the next seat told him to knock it off or he'd wrap the pencil around his scrawny
neck.
The boy was motionless for a few moments. Then he scrawled 'Megamind' across the top of the
page, in big block letters, and deliberately answered every single question wrong.
Some of the answers were really quite creative, and the obscene pictures in the margins were
anatomically accurate, but of course the GRE was not the place to show off how creative you
were, and so the boy failed.

And now, on a whim, because it no doubt amused him, Megamind was happily committing
reckless acts of homework for this idiot. The fact that Ronnie was pre-law probably added to the
hilarity.
Parker fixed Ronnie with a weary glare. When did he last come in? Last night?
Ronnie shuffled his feet a little and shook his head. Naw. Couple nights ago. Maybe three, he
mumbled. I was cleaning out my folder. He always draws all over my...
You must have realized that all the money he's giving you has been stolen, Parker said. Or did
you think he'd saved it up from his paper route? And just how much are we talking about here?
No, never mind, I don't even... Parker sighed. Ronnie had gone paler than the snowflakes
swirling around them.
Are you going to call the cops? Am I in trouble? Ronnie asked. His eyebrows were tilted up in
a worried peak.
Parker rubbed his forehead. Tried to think. What would the police do, anyway? Arrest this idiot
for knowingly receiving stolen money from an underage fugitive? Ronnie must be five or six
years older than Megamind. Who was the adult here?
But people didn't think about that. Even the newscasters had stopped describing him as a
runaway, or a teenage fugitive. Most people looked at Megamind and saw three things: blue,
alien, dangerous. Which Megamind cheerfully exploited with gusto, especially the 'dangerous' bit.
Would the cops set up another useless stakeout? Parker had a feeling he'd pretty much used up all
his influence over the case with his insistence on staking out the library.
Do you have any idea where he is?
Ronnie shrugged. He seemed to have an endless supply of shrugs. Perhaps he'd picked it up from
Megamind. He never says where he's going. Or Minion, neither.
Parker was probably going to regret this...but...
After digging around in his pockets he found a scrap of paper. He wrote his name and phone
number on it.
The next time Megamind comes in, give me a call. Please, he said, holding out the pathetic
scrap. Ronnie very slowly lifted his hand and gripped it between thumb and forefinger as if it were
a snake that might bite him. I'm his father, Parker added, to see if he could grind it into Ronnie's
conscience a bit more.
He doesn't really...they never stick around for very long, Ronnie said. And how am I gonna
make a phone call without them noticing? Minion's big. Meaning, 'how am I going to make a
phone call without Minion beating me up?'
Parker sighed. Just do the best you can, he said. He looked at Ronnie for a moment longer, then
turned to go back into the station.
As he passed by the counter, Tanya was helping another customer at the cash register, but she shot
Parker a narrow-eyed look as he went past.
He went back to the car and slid into the front seat.
Couldn't you hold it until we got there? Schmidt griped. You're the one who...

Parker showed him the paper bearing the marks of Megamind's vigorous hand. Schmidt's
eyebrows shot up. Well, how 'bout that, he murmured. My oh my.
Can you believe this? Parker snapped, starting the car.
I take it, based on your agitated state, that this did not just happen to fall out of your little genius'
pocket? He has passed through then? Schmidt asked dryly.
He's been hanging out at that hole in the wall for who knows how long! Parker cried. That
night clerk? The one with the messy hair? He's pre-law. Megamind's doing his homework! He
pressed down on the accelerator.
Schmidt grabbed onto the dashboard with his free hand. Easy, easy there, he murmured. You
want me to drive?
No! Parker snapped.He eased off the gas. Traffic was pretty heavy, he didn't have much choice.
A smattering of snowflakes clattered against the windows.
Practically getting straight A's by the sound of it, Parker said. All this time! And that punk
never said anything!
The wind increased, pressing on the car like a giant hand. Parker clung grimly to the wheel to
keep it from drifting onto the shoulder. Several car lengths ahead of them, a semi truck and trailer
rocked in the gale.
Schmidt muttered, I'll bet we'll hear about one a those rigs tipping over before the day's done.
He blew on his coffee and took a sip. Pre-law, he chuckled. That's diabolical, that is. Well...he
oughta fit right in with the other lawyers!
Who, Megamind or Ronnie? Parker muttered.
Schmidt looked at the paper again. Oscillating treb-ah-chet, he read aloud. Looks like a
catapult to me.
It's a treb-you-shay, Parker said. It's different. Catapult uses a wind-up mechanism, I think.
Trebuchet operates... He waved his arm vaguely. Some kind of a counter weight system.
Being Megamind's foster father, he'd picked up a lot of weird little bits of information over the
years.
Schmidt frowned. You don't think he's going to build one of these things, is he?
Parker shook his head. How should I know? He's always drawing things like that. But it's all
crossed-out. Maybe he gave up on it.
Schmidt nodded. Well, just call Detective Buford. Let him decide what to do about it.
Parker was silent. Schmidt glanced at him. You are, aren't you? he said sharply.
Parker glared at the road.
Because, on account of, it might look kinda funny, Schmidt said pointedly. If you found out
something about his whereabouts or activities, and failed to inform the authorities. You know?
What difference does it make! Parker said. Half of Metrocity knows something about 'his
whereabouts and activities'! All those photographers. Are they going to arrest everyone who
caught a glimpse of him?

It is because of your unique status, John, Schmidt said. If a prosecutor gets wind of it, he could
make things real uncomfortable for you. Could make a case that you're aiding and abetting.
Schmidt looked out the window and took a bite from the bagel. And you just said 'Metrocity',
you know.
I did not, Parker muttered. He glanced at Schmidt. If...you could pretend you didn't see any...
He regretted showing the worksheet to Schmidt. He'd allowed his need to vent his frustration to
overcome his judgment. It was possible that Schmidt might be held culpable as well.
Schmidt chuckled. Me? I didn't see nothin'. I certainly did not see any signs of doodling that
might have been done by a certain blue boy. His face grew serious again. I hope you're not
thinking of camping out at that place, John. Even if you did run into him by some miracle, you
will never convince him to turn himself in. Both he and Parker knew that Megamind was the one
who would need convincing. Minion would follow Megamind wherever he went, even into hell.
Surely he would follow him back into prison.
It might even be dangerous to confront him, said Schmidt.
Parker glanced at him in surprise. He...they wouldn't hurt me, he said.
Schmidt shrugged. He's gotten pretty bold, John. And you have a... complicated history. Who
knows how he'd react? I wouldn't risk it. Just tell the cops, Schmidt advised. Don't give yourself
an ulcer.
Now it was Parker's turn to shrug. I have to think about it.
Schmidt sighed and took another slurp of coffee. He leaned over to turn on the radio. Country
music filled the air.
They still had a little ways to go, giving Parker plenty of time to fill up with nagging questions.
Why hadn't he ever thought about asking Minion if he would like to take the GRE? Perhaps
Minion would have liked a chance to prove himself. It probably would have goaded Megamind
into actually finishing the damn thing, in the spirit of competition if nothing else.
My wife is right, Parker thought glumly. I do always forget Minion.
What was he going to do if Ronnie did call him in the middle of the night to tell him that
Megamind and Minion were at his gas station?
This was hopeless. Most likely, they would be gone by the time he got there. Or if they were
there, Megamind would grin his crooked grin and say, Oh, I don't think so, warden. And leave.
Maybe even shoot him. He didn't really believe that would happen, though.
But what do I know? What he's capable of? So far as he's concerned, I'm the schmuck who's tried
to keep him locked up his entire life, Parker chided himself. He's not going to meekly follow me
back.
Gonna watch the game tonight? Come over to my place, Schmidt said as they walked across the
prison's parking lot.
Theres a big storm on the way, Parker said. Id rather not get stuck at your place for a week.
Eh, itll blow over. Schmidt waved his hand as if to say storm warnings were for lesser mortals.
Stevens and Corky are comin' over too. Come on, it'll be great! Corky always roots for
Wisconsin.

Parker said, I might have to go home around noon anyway, if the snow really does get that bad.
Otherwise Joyce'll get upset.
Schmidt downed the rest of his coffee and threw the cup into a wastebasket inside the door.
Before he turned to go down the hallway that led to his office, he said, Guess we'll see how it
goes then. Have a good day. And keep your lawyer on speed dial. With that cheerful bit of
advice, they parted.
------------Megamind finally put the game controller aside, only because his stomach was threatening to
devour itself. His limbs were practically frozen into permanent sitting position. Creakily he
straightened his arms above his head and stretched his back. These games were addictive.
He rubbed his hands together. It was rather cold in here. Why was it so cold? He checked the
space heaters. They were all on, and seemed to be functioning normally, but the cold was coming
off the basement walls in a vindictive wave.
Minion?he called. He blew on his hands and went up the stairs to the main floor. He pulled the
door open and a cloud of snowflakes blasted him in the face.
The main floor was a solid mass of white. Minion was using a piece of scrap metal to shovel an
area around the van. Megamind's newly acquired vintage Mustang was half buried under a mound
of snow.
Thought that I would try to keep ahead of it a bit, Sir, Minion said, voice strained as he
struggled to shift the heavy snow. Megamind stepped out onto the floor. It was over his knees. He
waded to the back door. The snow level got shallower as he got closer to the wall. He strode the
last few steps and pulled the door open.
A waist-high wall of snow had built up against the door. He looked out at the whirling flakes.
They were snowed in.

Snowed In
The late winter storm was a test of Midwestern fortitude. If a major blizzard had to hit, they
wondered, why did it have to happen now, when spring was just around the corner, instead of
back in January or December when such storms were supposed to occur?
The storm closed airports across three states and Ontario. It snowed relentlessly for two days.
Schools and government offices were closed. There were blackouts in some towns as the high
winds blew over power lines. Gradually the snow eased, and stopped.
The streets were cleared and salted. Electrical crews fixed the downed poles, power was restored,
and everyone hoped the worst was over.
But it was only a brief respite. Midwesterners tended to view bad winter weather as a nuisance,
the price to be paid for living at northern latitudes. Many heeded the weather warnings and stayed
put, but others attempted to return to their normal routines, out of desperation or recklessness, and
so were caught out when the storm started up again.
Another foot of white death fell on Metro City and the surrounding countryside. The budding
young hero of Metro City was kept busy rescuing people trapped in their cars on the highways,
and even right in the middle of town. When the crews were at their wits' end trying to find new
places to put all the snow they were struggling to shift off the roads, Wayne Scott obligingly used
an old dump truck to ferry mounds of the stuff out into the country, and out onto the frozen lake.
He didn't restrict himself to Metro City. Wayne flew all over the Midwest and Canada doing what
he could to help. He hauled away trees that fell over roads. He rescued people from their homes
when the roofs collapsed under the weight of the snow. He happened to be in the right place at the
right time to catch a small private plane before it crashed to the ground, right on the edge of the
storm system. The pilot was overconfident about his abilities and had underestimated the severity
of the winds.
Wayne saved enough people to populate a small town, as well as six dogs, two cats, a herd of
horses, and a very confused moose that wandered into downtown Grand Rapids. But even he
couldn't be everywhere at once, and the storm caused the deaths of three people and injured
dozens more, through accidents and exposure.
When it finally really stopped snowing, the winds grew even worse, causing blowing and drifting
snow to cover sidewalks and block doorways and windows. People had to find their cars by
memory, because all the drifts along the curbs looked the same, but there was no need to search
for buried cars because the streets were so thick with snow that hardly anyone could travel. The
snow piled shoulder-high along streets, some of it the work of the plows, some of it courtesy of
the winds. In some places it towered over people's heads, creating block after block of snow
canyons.
Temperatures plummeted to arctic levels.
In the lair, the space heaters did their best, but the cold pressed in, bearing down from the ceiling
and the walls. Whatever was closest to the space heaters received the benefit of the warmth. A
sheen of frost glittered on surfaces on the perimeter of the basement. Winter was encroaching from
all sides. The lair was turning into an ice palace.
Megamind wore grooves in the floor with incessant pacing. The video games lay idle, their appeal
gone in the face of the catastrophe. He flickered through countless Internet sites, barely registering

the words and images.

He rummaged around his half-finished inventions, tinkering here and there, muttering about not
being able to find anything and wondering out loud when Minion was going to get the place
organized.
Minion padded about the lair, always available, but edging away from the maelstrom of nervous
energy as much as seemed prudent.
Currently, Megamind was sprawled across the couch, watching the latest weather report.
...high pressure system here, which has stalled out over southern Ontario means we'll be seeing at
least...hold on to your hats, folks...another four days of subzero temperatures.
Megamind groaned so loudly that the rest of the weatherperson's words were obscured.
Another. Four. Days, he grated through his teeth. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his
fists against his head.
I don't know. I really don't, Minion thought gloomily. What part of I had to go to eight different
stores and People really cleared off the shelves did he not understand?
The blizzard had taken Megamind completely by surprise. Minion knew it was a sort of tunnel
vision. Sometimes Megamind got so focused on his projects that little insignificant details like
massive deadly weather systems escaped his attention.
Nope. What's a little snow? Minion grumbled to himself. He always leaves it up to me to get our
food stockpiled, to make sure we have enough water...
Minion looked at the gallon jugs that held their water supply, which were grouped around one of
the space heaters. The rest were crowded into the fridge so they wouldn't freeze. He was not
thrilled with being trapped indoors either, but at least he'd been mentally prepared for the
possibility of a long...well, incarceration was as good a word as any.
It was proving to be a much greater trial for Megamind, who hadn't. He'd gotten used to being
able to come and go as he pleased, and now he was stuck.
Looks like this is shaping up to be one of the worst cold snaps in Metro City's history! the
weather person announced with grim cheer. Winds will be gusting at up to forty miles per hour.
Exposed skin can get frostbitten in as little as ten minutes, so if you must go outside, bundle up.
The temperature you see on the screen is the air temperature, folks! Yes, it really is 28 degrees
below zero. With the wind chill, that's minus 45.
The temperature guage on the screen blipped from -28 to -30.
Megamind tossed the remote onto the couch and got to his feet. He was wearing so many layers
that his arms were pushed out from his sides. He had the parka on too, and even wore the hated
hood. He meandered over to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. It was immediately pushed
shut by Minion.
You had a snack ten minutes ago, Minion said, holding the door closed with a straight arm.
Get this appliance open immediately! Megamind snapped.
We need to conserve our food.

But you stocked up right before the storm hit, Megamind said. Minion was mildly surprised. So
he was listening to me, a little bit, he thought. As I trudged up and down the stairs, hauling
supplies.
Yes, that's true, Sir, and you've eaten half of it already, Minion said. You're just bored.
Don't tell me what I am! Stand aside, Megamind said, yanking on the door handle. Minion's feet
were planted and it was like trying to shift a Buick.
Minion had prepared himself for this, and sucked in a huge breath of water to steady himself. Sir,
we really need to conserve food, he repeated insistently.
Megamind gave Minion the full force of his disapproving glare. Minion avoided his gaze and
stared at the wall, but he didn't budge. If Megamind ordered him to stand aside again, he didn't
know if he'd be able to resist it. He trembled with the effort of disobedience.
I could short-circuit you, you know, Megamind said, narrowing his eyes.
Minion bit his lip.
Abruptly, Megamind turned away and agitated around the room. He knew that Minion was right,
but he would rather cut off his own arm than admit it. He blew on his hands and rubbed them
together, looking for something to vent his frustration on. He stopped by the bookshelves and
shuffled through the books.
Too many books, he muttered. He looked at one hefty tome and pulled it off the shelf.
What is this! he demanded. Minion came over to look at it. Vegetables of History ? How did
this get in here?
Minion shrugged and grinned nervously. I mustve...scooped it up by accident, Sir.
Waste of space. I suppose we could always burn it for fuel when civilization comes to an end.
Along with the granola, Megamind grumbled. He snatched another suspicious book off the shelf.
Sewing for Dummies, he said. Is this some sort of joke?
Minion shifted uneasily. He'd been a bit puzzled at first by the book's title as well, but it had been
in amongst the other how-to books, and the information it contained seemed straightforward.
Oh, that! Well, I think the title is sort of a joke, but it's got some really good information in there,
Sir, he said. There's a whole series of 'em, like, Photography for Dummies , Cooking for
Dummies ...
What's next, Thinking for Dummies ? I think I get the picture, Megamind said. I'm surprised at
you, Minion. It's positively insulting! You're no dummy. You shouldn't subject yourself to... He
paused, and cocked his head.
What's that noise? he asked.
Minion listened. Now that they were away from the TV, he could hear a bit of noise on the edge
of his hearing.
Dunno, he said. It sounds like whirring. Oh! It's coming from my chest.
Megamind came close and put his ear against the front panel of Minion's robot suit for several

seconds. Then he turned and went to the worktable.

Come here, Minion, he said. Minion dutifully trundled over. Using a screwdriver, Megamind
removed the front panel. The whirring grew louder. Reaching into the core of the metallic chest,
he moved aside a few coils of wire. It seemed to Minion that he stared into the cavity for a long
time.
I don't suppose you know how to hibernate, do you? Megamind said in a rather distant voice.
Um. No, I don't think so, Minion said. I never tried. Why?
Do you think you could learn? Really quickly? he said.
-----I should have run a complete diagnostic after the fight, Megamind berated himself. The struggle
with Freezer Burn must have put tremendous strain on Minion's temperature regulator and heating
elements. One of the heating coils wasn't working at all and the other was sparking. It definitely
should not be sparking. Now this massive, ongoing cold snap had overtaxed the whole heating
system, and brought it to the end of its life.
Megamind wished he had thought of a different phrase.
How is it that I don't have a single condenser or heating coil in the entire place! he shouted in
frustration. He slammed the box down on the table. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared
angrily at the scattered components. He should've started work on the new robot body by now.
Constructing the core would have been the first step, and then he would've had all the parts on
hand, including the parts for the heating system, and they wouldn't be in this mess. Minion
wouldn't be in this mess.
Minion stood nearby, a hulking heap of misery. Hands clasped to the front of his bowl, he
watched Megamind anxiously, trying not to hover. The whirring noise had taken on an unpleasant
grinding overtone. Grinding noises were not a very good sign.
Megamind drummed his fingers on the table. He could cannibalize one of the space heaters for
parts. It would be a stand alone system, though, and would be attached to Minion like a portable
iron lung. And it would take some time to put together, hours, maybe even days.
There were a few more pathetic whirring sounds, and the temp regulator gave a final whine and
died.
That was it, then. There wasn't time to build anything. Megamind dragged the touch-safe space
heaters together. He arranged four of them in a rough semi-circle by the television, and got them
all plugged in with extension cords.
Come here, he ordered. Sit.
Minion settled himself down in among the heaters, the island of warmth.
There! Nothing to it. The heaters should kick out enough heat to keep your water in a liquid
state, Megamind said, nodding. We just need to sit tight until...
The lair went black.
...the power goes out, Megamind said.

-----Minion shivered in his bowl. Megamind ordered him to stay put, and made his way across the lair
by feel and went to get a flashlight out of the van. Minion saw the dim light at the top of the stairs
as Megamind went out onto the main floor. Though the light from the main floor did little more
than give a gray sheen to the top steps, Minion was glad that he had left the door open.
He knew that his water couldn't possibly be freezing already, but he imagined he could feel the
temperature of the water slowly falling, degree by degree. The space heaters gave off gentle 'pok'
sounds as they cooled. The wind howled. Snowflakes blew in through the gray rectangle at the
top of the steps.
What's keeping him? He must be taking a look around, Minion thought. And he thought about
whiteouts, and how people could get lose their way in blinding snow, and freeze to death only feet
from their own doors...
Minion began to stand up, but then Megamind's shadow fell on the steps, the flashlight casting its
light ahead of him. Relieved, Minion sat down again.
How's it look out there, Sir? he cried.
The snow plows haven't been by, Megamind said. The street they were on was not exactly a
high priority for the work crews. They'd heard a plow go by only once, and that was yesterday.
The high winds had blown huge drifts back over the road, and it was as impassable as if the plow
had never been there.
I can dehydrate the snow in the alley and we could make it to the street, but I don't know how
well it would go, if I have to hang out the window, dehydrating snow from our path all the way
down the streets. He shook his head. Frostbite, exposure, why, he'd freeze solid. Even this brief
venture into the outdoors made his bones ache, as if his coat and many layers offered no protection
at all. And he had no idea how far the power outage extended. The nearest store where Megamind
could hope to find the necessary components for a new temp regulator was miles away. A mere
jaunt, if the roads were clear. But who knew how many hours it would take now?
They could sit in the car or the van, heaters running. The factory was so big, and the hole in the
roof offered plenty of fresh air, hah, it did indeed, there was not much fear of them dying of
carbon monoxide poisoning. Until the gas ran out, and they'd be in the same fix as before.
He walked over to Minion. I think I can cobble together a backup generator, but it's going to take
a while. He paused and looked Minion in the eye. I'll have to dehydrate you, he said.
Minion waved his fins and turned his little worried eyes to Megamind. But...I don't...you'll be
alone. I want to help, he said miserably.
You're not going to be any help when you turn into a popsicle! Megamind snapped. How am I
supposed to keep you from freezing? With my winning personality? I can get it done, Minion.
Once it's completed, I'll rehydrate you.
But out of what? We don't have any engines, except... Then Minion remembered. Oh. Um.
The van, or the new one? But how will you get the engine down here? You have to at least let me
carry it down here for you, Sir!
Megamind nodded.
Even working as quickly as they could to unbolt the engine from Megamind's beautiful new
Mustang (despite being the older vehicle, the previous owner had kept it in top-notch shape, and it

was in better condition than the van's engine), frost thickened on Minion's dome and he was
shivering by the time it was detached. Minion's joints creaked as he hoisted the engine in his arms.
He walked carefully down the steps into the lair. It posed no real physical strain on him, since the
robot body was doing all the work, but he had to concentrate all the same.
Put it there, Minion, Megamind said. Minion set it on the floor. Why, just think! It'll seem like
no time at all has passed when I rehydrate you, and the lair will be cozy once again! He smiled
encouragingly, and Minion did his best to smile back.
Just remember to eat when you're hungry, Sir, he said, when Megamind raised the de-gun.
Megamind sighed and let his arm fall to his side. All right, Minion. Now then...
But try not to sleep, Minion said quickly, as the de-gun was pointed at him again. I've heard
where people go to sleep and don't wake up when...
Minion, Megamind growled. Minion shut his mouth.
Okay, I'm ready, Sir, he said, and Megamind shot him.
He didn't get to work right away. He picked up the cube from the floor and sat down on the couch
for a minute, in the dark, cradling it in his hand. It was silly, but he didn't want to leave it sitting
around. He put it into his coat pocket, and felt a little better for having Minion close.
He rolled up his sleeves, figuratively speaking, and got to work.
----Megamind retrieved more flashlights from the van and arranged them around the work space. He
labored to take apart the engine and transform it into something that would save their lives. He had
to pull his gloved hands into his sleeves and clamp them against his body at regular intervals until
the ache went away and he could hold the tools again.
He took breaks for food and water, though he didn't feel much like eating. The flashlights began
to burn out. He had to search the lair for more batteries. He nodded off a couple of times, standing
up, and awakened when his head bounced off the engine block.
Building a fire for warmth began to seem less like a joke and more like a good idea but he had a
gnawing fear that he would doze off in front of the warm flames and never wake up again.
It was lonely work, with only the flashlights for company, and no TV or radio or Minion to talk
and complain to.
The howling wind gradually ceased, but by then he was too absorbed in the work to take much
notice.
----------When it was complete, he rehydrated Minion.
The backup generator sat in the middle of the room, growling like a mechanical tiger. There was a
crystalline frost over every surface in the lair. Moisture dripped off the space heaters as they began
to warm up again. The TV chattered and glowed in the background. Megamind was going around
the lair, turning all the lights on. All that time in the dark had left him hungry for light. He planned
to gorge on it.

Megamind wiped his greasy face with a towel. There were circles under his eyes. There was a
brittle tension in the air that suggested to Minion that fussing and coddling would not be welcome
at the moment, so he turned his attention to the generator.
Ooo, nice work, Sir! Fantastic remodeling. I like how you arranged the pulleys.
Megamind straightened a little under the praise. Naturally, Minion, it's a marvel of engineering, if
I do say so myself.
Minion inspected the generator again. What are you using for fuel?
Megamind pointed. Look down into the top.
Minion leaned over to take a look. The BINKEY from the de-gun glowed within.
Oh, Sir! he cried in distress. First your new car, and now your gun?
Don't get all weepy, Megamind said. I can easily remove it when I need to, and put it back in
the de-gun. He gestured to where the gutted weapon lay on a work table.
Then the newscast from the TV came to his attention.
...has been shot! Confirmed reports that the man claiming to be responsible for this deadly storm
was taken out by a sniper less than an hour ago.
Megamind sank slowly down onto the couch. The television cut to a scene showing a snowcovered street in a residential area, a row of one-story houses. A car and two trees were
smoldering the the snowy street, and there were numerous police cars, fire engines, and assorted
emergency personnel milling around. The caption on the bottom of the screen read Des Moines,
Iowa.
A woman and two children believed to be the Weather Wizard's estranged family were removed
from the house, unharmed. The mayor of Des Moines was...
Weather Wizard? Megamind said, perplexed. What is all this? How many days had passed?
Now they were showing footage of the man himself. A man in a padded jacket was standing on a
roof. He was having some difficulty maintaining his balance, and his scraggly beard streamed in
the wind. He was shouting at someone down in the street, but his words were blown away.
Megamind frowned. If this bozo had really started the storm, he didn't seem to be in control of it
any longer. The figure on the roof shuffled around shaking his fist, his feet digging furrows in the
deep snow. As he turned toward the microphones, they could pick up some of his tirade.
How do you like me now, Gabby? This enough potential for ya? Huh! This enough? How do
you like me now? he screamed. There was some more unintelligible shouting from a megaphone
off camera, and the man turned toward the sound. He straightened as much as the buffeting winds
would allow, and raised his arm. Electricity crackled around his clawed hand, and the picture
shook and wobbled as the camera man and everybody else took cover, but the camera still
managed to capture it when the electrical charge shot out of the Weather Wizard's hand and struck
a tree, splitting it in two. The Weather Wizard waved his arms wildly and almost fell off the roof.
Megamind shook his head. What an idiot! He was so clearly out of control.
They cut back to the anchorwoman. After taking his family hostage, the Weather Wizard
demanded five million dollars, and safe passage to Mexico. Unresponsive to police negotiators,
and under the advice of an undisclosed government agency, the decision was made to call in the

sniper. The Weather Wizard's real name is Philip Larsen. He is in serious condition, and under
heavy guard, at the hospital. His ex-wife, Gabby Larsen, is being questioned by police, and was
unavailable for comment.
Based on the opinions of several meteorologists, it is now believed that it is highly unlikely that
Philip Larsen could have been responsible for this massive snowstorm.
They cut to a somber, weasel-faced man, tie askew. Iowa is much too far away from the storm
center, he declared in a voice drier than ten thousand year old paper. And I think that once this
so-called Weather Wizard was taken out, the storm system would have dissipated! This obviously
did not happen. I think what we have here is someone trying to take credit where it definitely is
not due, and attempting to profit off other people's misery. Despite his ability to control lightning, I
seriously doubt...
He wasn't controlling lightning, you moron! Megamind cried, waving his arms at the TV. He
was producing electricity! Either from his own electromagnetic field or from a device hidden
under his clothes! Idiot. They're all idiots. He slumped back in the couch, scowling.
Thank you, Dr. Wiley. This incident has ignited a lot of debate about the best way to deal with
dangerous super-powered individuals. And now a message from Senator Traut of Colorado.
A scowling pasty man appeared on the screen. It's my understanding that this Philip Larsen has
had this ability since childhood, but hardly anyone knew about it! How do we know who has
these powers and who doesn't? They're undetectable by metal detectors. Some super-powered nut
could sneak in anywhere!
Megamind rolled his eyes. I'm sure every criminal and terrorist in the world has just gotten a few
bright ideas about now, he said with a sneer. Nice job, Senator Troutface. I can see why those
Dummies books are so popular, Minion.
...proposing we initiate a nation wide registration program for these 'supers', the senator was
saying. So that we know exactly who is who. I'm sure the good people of Iowa would back me
on that.
The American Civil Liberties Union has called the proposal unethical, and claims that it is an
invasion of privacy, said the anchorwoman.
A different woman, her hair tied back in a severe bun, appeared onscreen, clearly annoyed. What
does Senator Traut suggest? That we test every child in the nation? That we slap a big 'S' on
everyone who has super powers? Or maybe we could just use big yellow stars like the Nazis.
They cut back to the anchorwoman. Senator Traut's office released a statement saying that the
reference to Nazi Germany was uncalled for and in very bad taste, and that the Senator has deep
concerns for the welfare of the nation. The President is expect...
Megamind turned the channel. Go without power a couple of days and you miss everything, he
muttered. He flipped rapidly through several stations. Something caught his attention and he
quickly flipped back.
It was a picture of Wayne Scott, smiling big. Megamind perched on the edge of the couch, leaning
on his knees.
After clearing away downed trees and branches that had blown over Lakeview Drive, Metro
City's own hometown hero had a surprise announcement.
Wayne was standing in some hallway or other, talking into a microphone. Well, I just thought,

hey, a lot of guys are called Wayne, you know, and maybe, you know, it was time for a change,
time for something catchy, you know?
We all know! Get on with it! Megamind snapped.
I thought a good, catchy name was needed, you know, so from now on, when I'm, you know,
working, and somebody needs my help they can call on me. They can call on Metro Man. And
Wayne flashed a smile at the camera.
Megamind's mouth fell open. He and Minion looked at each other. Minion's eyebrows were at the
top of his head. Well, how 'bout that, he said, and sniffed.
Metro Man, Megamind said with a sneer. How original.
Why not Metro Boy? the reporter asked.
Wayne shrugged and chuckled. Well, I'll be a legal adult in about... he paused, turned his head
to the side a little. His lips moved.
Eighteen months, you big lummox! Megamind yelled.
A little less...than...two years, Wayne said. I wanted to keep it simple. When I come of age I'd
have to change it. I don't want to confuse the public, you know.
Because goodness knows they're confused enough! Megamind said, snorting in derision. Why,
a big change like that would have them scratching their heads for months! 'Whatever happened to
Metro Boy? And who's this Metro Man?'
Minion snickered at the impression. I'll bet he's copying you, Sir, he said loyally. With the
double 'M'? Ha!
The reporter asked, And how do your parents feel about this?
Wayne's smile slipped a bit. He shrugged and said, Uh... He rubbed the back of his neck.
Well...
Megamind turned the TV off. What time is it? he demanded. What day is it? Without waiting
for an answer he got to his feet and stormed around the room, gathering clean clothes. Where's
my go-to-get-clean bag? The bag held Megamind's toothpaste, soap and shaving kit. He shaved
twice a week whether he needed it or not. More often not, but it was good to keep up the habit.
This depended on how often he could get to a working bathroom. Trying to shave in a mixing
bowl with ice cold water had long ago lost its charm.
Laboring over that makeshift generator had produced a thin layer of grime on his person,
seemingly everywhere, in complete disregard of the fact that the lair had become so cold that even
penguins would freeze. It was so utterly, abominably cold. Couldn't his darn sweat glands
understand that?
He wanted a shower. Now.
The second that street is cleared, Minion, we are going, I don't care if it's high noon, I am filthy,
and grimy, and...
He stopped in the middle of the floor and turned his head, listening. Minion could hear it, too. It
was the sound of a truck, and the steady scrape of a heavy piece of metal dragging along the
ground. Megamind's face broke into a smile.

The plow! he shouted excitedly. Laughing, he grabbed Minion's arms and twirled him around a
couple times.
Let's get that alley cleared! Megamind cried, dashing for the de-gun. Minion caught him as he
flew by and wrapped him in a bear hug, but carefully.
Wait, wait, wa-a-a-a-ait, he said, grinning. At least let the plow go by, Sir.
And so they waited for another interminable two hours, to give the snow plow time to finish its
first pass down the street, and to come back around to clear the other side, Megamind threatening
to dehydrate Minion again, but in a good-natured sort of way.
---It was a little after nine o'clock at night when it was safe to emerge. Megamind turned off the
generator, removed the BINKEY, and reassembled the de-gun. He nearly froze, blasting the
wretched snow of the alley, but it gave him a great deal of satisfaction. Minion edged the van
forward bit by bit, as Megamind exacted vengeance on the snow drifts.
They made it to the cleared street, and roared off into the frigid night. Tendrils of loose snow
trickled across the streets.
---Their first stop was the Electro Shack. They had forgotten the key-o-matic in all the excitement of
being freed from the lair, so Megamind picked the lock, scooped up the components while the
alarm blared, and got out.
In the back of the van a good distance away, Megamind fitted Minion with a new regulator and
replaced the heating system.
The next item was to locate a suitable place for Megamind to shower, before he drove Minion
crazy.

Shower Quest
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The burning dormitory blazed merrily. Flames blazed on two midlevel floors on one side of the
building. Smoke poured out of the windows.
Wow, and we didn't even do anything, Minion muttered.
They sat in the van and watched the bonfire from behind a mountain of snow. The university
campus was swarming with displaced students, police officers, and firefighters.
Maybe we can use this to our advantage, Megamind said, brightening. Our objective is the
gymnasium. We could still sneak around back while everyone is out here looking at the blaze.
No, I think they're sending people there, to get them out of the cold, Minion said, watching the
shivering, hunched students straggling along.
Then people began shouting, and pointing skyward, and an enormous cistern swung through the
air. Wayne was barely visible underneath it. Metro Man.
He flew higher above the inferno. He tilted the cistern and the slow stream of water landed on the
flames with a dull roar. Geysers of smoke poured into the night sky. People cheered and clapped.
Megamind made a face. Showoff, he muttered. He slumped in his seat. Well, I'm not going to
Wally's Workout World again! That place'll give me athlete's foot.
Minion scratched his dome. Um....there's the trucker's stop on Highway 23. No? Megamind
pressed his lips together and shook his head.
On the campus, Wayne had set the cistern down. People surged toward him, laughing and talking.
Let's try the high school, Megamind said.
--------But the scene at the high school was busy too, though for a different reason. A volleyball
tournament had just been completed. Despite the difficult driving conditions, the weather was
deemed passable, and the game had already been postponed once because of the storm. The
schools had been reopened that day, so the game had gone ahead.
There were a lot of people hanging around, braving the frigid temperatures. Even the most austere
conditions can seem routine after a while, and the citizens of Metro City had been cooped up
indoors for the better part of a week. In truth, the weather had moderated; it was 1 degree, the first
time it had been above zero for days. This was an opportunity to get outside and socialize.
Megamind practically had a fit.
Why don't these people go home! he exclaimed. It's freezing out here, you idiots! Your stupid
event is over, obviously, or you wouldn't all be wasting your time standing around jawing! Go
home! This was intolerable! Lack of sleep had stripped his patience to bare wires. And he was
itching. He squirmed in his seat.

On a different night he might have felt dejected, seeing the other teens joking around with their
friends, gravitating around their parents and siblings. On another night he might have felt a stab of
poignancy, knowing he would forever be an outsider. But not tonight. Tonight these dolts were all
that stood between him and cleanliness.
He felt no relationship at all with these teenagers and their parents and siblings. The gawky, oversized boys who went around with their jackets flapping open and punching each other on the
arms, the shrill-voiced girls chewing gum, who shrieked and complained about the cold, but made
no sign that they were going to move on into warmer environments.
Megamind watched the festivities for a little while longer, then made an executive decision.
Move the van around back, he ordered.
Oh, I don't know, I think maybe... said Minion nervously.
I'm just going to take a look, Megamind said. Drive.
They drove around the block and approached the high school from a back street. Megamind
gathered his kit and slipped out into the icy night. There was, indeed, no one around the back,
though the sounds of talk and laughter that drifted over from the front parking lot made Minion
extremely nervous.
There was a single excessively bright light that illuminated the parking lot. The door that
Megamind had chosen was in such a deep recess it was like a cave, and about as dark.
Megamind worked at the lock with a pick. Minion fidgeted.
Hold that flashlight steady, Megamind said. We would be inside by now if somebody hadn't
forgotten the key-o-matic.
How do we know the locker rooms are empty? I don't think they clean them very well here,
either, Sir, can't you get athlete's foot somewhere else? I really think...
I will do the thinking here, Minion, Megamind murmured, turning his attention back to the lock.
His gloved fingers ached with cold. He pulled them into his ghastly sleeves and clenched them
into fists to get a little blood flowing.
He was sick of giving way, of skulking and sneaking around, of waiting for ordinary schmucks to
finish their business so he could just do something as normal as get a shower once in a while. The
weight of the de-gun was a comforting presence in his coat pocket, within immediate reach. He
had foregone the holster this time because of all the excessive layers of clothing. Getting to the degun under all that could take upwards of half an hour.
Any janitors or loiterers around, they are cubed, he thought to himself, reaching for the lock
again.
The burst of high-pitched laughter made him whirl around. Minion clicked off the light.
A gaggle of girls hove into view, chattering, their breaths making clouds in the frosty air. Five of
them. They gathered by a low metal fence and settled in.
Megamind and Minion stood rigid with alarm. He couldn't even keep working on the door. It
wasn't that noisy, but they might hear the little snickety sounds of metal on metal. And once he got
it open, he felt a grim certainty that it would creak loudly enough to wake the dead. In accordance
with the ancient laws of the hidden, he began to itch worse than ever. He itched in places he didn't

even know he had.

Now what, Sir? Minion whispered out of the corner of his mouth. Megamind grimaced and
shook his head a fraction. The light must be in the girls' eyes, but it was possible they would catch
a movement, and he and Minion would be spotted. Could he shoot all five of them at once?
Highly doubtful. The commotion would be tremendous.
Then one of the hooded girls turned to one of her friends, smiling and laughing, and all the blood
rushed to his ears.
It was Her.
He couldn't see her lovely braid, but he recognized the girl he'd crashed into outside the Chinese
restaurant, her square features softly rounded by her hood.
It was the first time he heard Her Voice.
Cheryl, you're such a ditz! the girl giggled. Polly wouldn't do that!
She did! I saw her, Cheryl replied.
Prove it, the girl said.
Yeah, get some pictures, one of the others chimed in. The girls shrieked with laughter.
A blue Camaro with no muffler roared to a halt by the curb. A boy leaned out the passenger side
and brayed Hey, wanna party? I got it right here, girls!
Kiss my ass, Browning! one of the girls yelled.
Yeah, Brown-noser!
Up yours!
You wish! Loser!
Screw you!
Megamind's hand gripped the handle of the de-gun. Minion creaked slightly as he clenched and
unclenched his fists. Those were fightin' words. If they were in the prison yard, guys would be
making a circle around the contestants. Sometimes a fight could happen so fast there wasn't even
time for that. The loser could be looking for his teeth in a matter of seconds.
What if those boys attacked? He felt a strange compulsion to defend the girls. Those boys were
obviously scumbags! The girls might need protection from those ne'er-do-wells. Where this
impulse of chivalry came from he couldnt have said.
No one was moving in for the kill, even though some major insults were getting thrown around.
There must be some different rules in effect here.
He remembered what it had been like among the kids back at the Lil' Red Shoolhouse. Come to
think of it, girls hadn't been much given to actual physical contact there either. The teacher didn't
allow real fighting to take place... much...though Megamind had learned at great cost that there
were countless other sneaky little ways to inflict pain. Girls tended to make scathing remarks,
while boys were more likely to sucker punch.
After a final insult of "Lesbos!" the Camaro took off with a screech of tires.

After a final insult of "Lesbos!" the Camaro took off with a screech of tires.
The girls returned to their huddle, trading their views on the boys in the Camaro, all of them
negative.
But Megamind was unable to pay much attention, because another matter began to make its
presence felt, with increasing urgency.
Minion, I have to go to the bathroom, he whispered.
What, now?
Yes, now! Well...soon. Why do you think I brought it up? Megamind hissed.
Minion gave an annoyed little exhalation. I swear, Sir, your bladder's shrunk.
Well, excuse me, Mr. Self-cleaning-bowl! Some of us have to plan how to take care of these little
matters! I've been holding it in for six hours! Megamind whispered through gritted teeth.
You should've gone at the lair.
I hate those buckets! I thought we'd have visited a bathroom by now!
Well, what's the plan? Minion said wearily.
Megamind huffed out a breath. So much for not creating a commotion. He had to get out of there.
He stabbed a finger at Minion. You, my scaly friend, yes you, will go out there and scatter those
females, at once!
What? Why me? Minion whispered eyes wide.
Because I said so! Megamind said. The truth of the matter was he was aware of how grimy he
was. He was sure that he looked ridiculous in his too-big coat with its fuzzy hood. He hadn't much
cared for Minion's snide remark about shrinking bladders, either. And besides, She was there. The
thought of her turning those big eyes on him in his current state made his stomach do a slow turn.
Which was stupid. It made no sense. But his heart was thudding as if it were the first night he'd
stepped out the prison gate.
Get out there right now! That is an order , Minion! Megamind set his jaw.
Minion winced. He looked over at the girls to see if maybe they were getting ready to disperse on
their own, but no such luck. He sighed, and put on his 'monster' face, and lumbered out with a
growl.
Commotion does not even begin to describe the uproar.
Though in later years Megamind would become an expert at inciting terror in the populace, that
night at the high school taught him one important caveat. If you are within twenty feet of a group
of teenage girls, do not make them scream, especially if you are standing within a confined space
and are not wearing high-quality ear plugs.
He and Minion somehow made it back to their vehicle, hearts pounding like jackhammers. They
drove in silence for a while.
Megamind rubbed his ears. How many decibels do you think that was?
I can't believe there were only five, Minion said, shaking himself in his bowl. Sounded like
five hundred. All of them screaming.

Not all of them screamed, Minion, Megamind said, scowling. She didn't. She might have
gasped a little.
Minion frowned a bit. How could he tell?
Which one? he asked.
Wasn't it obvious? Megamind cried. The girl from the restaurant!
What restaurant?
Megamind scoffed. What do you mean 'what restaurant'? The girl with the purple coat that had
the little pink daisies, and the buttons on the sleeves, and the matching purple boots with the
ridiculous fake fur trim, I don't know why they have to slap a bunch of fuzzy fur on everything,
those manufacturers aren't fooling anybody, and the coat went down to her, um, below her, um,
waist, and she had that little mole on her jawline, and her bangs kept getting in her eyes.
He paused. Minion was staring at him. What? he snapped.
Minion blinked and tore his gaze away. Nothing. Nothing, Sir, he said, looking back at the
road, all business.
That was...a lot of detail, Minion thought. There was another extended silence. Minion turned on
the radio.
I know where to go, said Megamind. No more skulking! He gave Minion instructions and
turned to glare out the window.
I just wish I knew what her name was, he muttered under his breath. Not that it mattered. At all.
-----------Gladys took another cigarette out of her pack and lit it. The TV droned and flickered in the
background. The Late Late Show was on. She wasn't that interested in the guests that night, but
she kept the TV as much out of habit as for company. The neon light of the hotel gleamed red
through the fractured frost of the window. Her boyfriend Ralph snored on the couch.
She was thumbing through yesterday's newspaper when the doorbell in the lobby jingled. She
heaved herself to her feet and walked out to the counter, taking a drag off the cigarette and
blowing smoke in the air. She considered the couple who had entered.
No luggage, though one held a satchel. Hmph. Probably just wanted a room for an hour. Well,
they could damn well pay for the whole night.
They were completely covered with swathes of hoods and scarves. They hovered inside the
doorway of the cramped lobby. The bigger one nudged the other in the back. The smaller figure
smacked him in the torso with a rather unusually loud 'thunk'.
Gladys pursed her lips and tapped the cigarrette on the edge of the ashtray. Well, are you comin'
in or what? she said.
The shorter one...that must be the gal... leaned forward a bit, then walked across the carpeting to
the desk.
The gal cleared her throat and said A room for...cough...the night, how much do I owe you? in
a voice quivering all over the place.

Gladys' face didn't move a muscle. Not a woman, then. But not a man either. Her eyes moved
briefly to the silent, hulking figure in the doorway.
Kid was probably a runaway.
You need two beds or one? she asked. She looked at the boy's swathed face and tried to see into
the darkness of the hood without being too obvious about it. The scarf covered him pretty well.
All she could make out were a couple of bright eyes, blinking and darting around. The boy took
half a step back from the counter.
Um...just...one...I guess, the boy said uncertainly.
I knew it, Gladys thought in grim satisfaction. Well, who was she to judge? Actually, she judged
people all the time. This world was a den of sin and vice, but it wasn't any of her business, as long
as they paid in full. She told him the price and he pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket. She
didn't bat an eye at that, either. He peeled off a few bills.
Room 210. Checkout's at noon. Sign here, she said, pushing the sign-in book toward him. The
boy was shifting his weight from foot to foot. Nerves, thought Gladys. Maybe hasn't decided what
name to use. Should've thought about that ahead of time, sonny.
The boy twirled the pen around in his fingers, then leaned over the book and wrote furiously. He
slapped the pen down and yanked his arm back like he was afraid she was going to grab him.
Have fun, boys, she said, handing over the key. The boy snatched the key, clenching it in his
fist.
Uh...okay? he said, then he whirled and went up the stairs. Gladys stared at the silent big man
who followed him. She was not surprised that he avoided her eyes.
Yeah, I know your type, she thought, exhaling a stream of smoke. Don't want me to see your face,
huh? Making the kid pay for this little rendezvous? Makes me sick.
She pulled the sign-in book toward her and looked at the name. John Parker. Hmph. Might as
well be John Smith. And if that's a real address, I'll eat the ashtray.
She went back into her office and settled down to read the paper again. She turned the pages. Her
boyfriend snored gently on the sofa. There was a blare of laughter from the TV, but she still
caught the sound of the bell jingling again, ever so slightly. It sounded just like the sound of
someone doing their best to open the lobby door as quietly as possible.
Eyes narrowed, she hurried out to the front desk again. She was just in time to catch a glimpse of a
couple of guys slipping up the stairs.
She recognized the first one! That bum Terence! Sneaking his junkie friend in!
Furious, she flounced back to the office. She'd warned them! She picked up the phone and called
the police. She drew the line at drug dealers. Her place would go downhill in no time if she started
letting their kind in.
---------Once inside the room, Megamind shed his coat and several layers of clothes like a maddened
whirling dervish and crashed into the bathroom. Minion pulled off his hood and unwrapped his
scarves. He was not happy about this, not at all. He did not like the way that hotel manager had
scrutinized them. Awkwardly he began dragging at one of the sleeves of the coat. It kept catching

on his elbow joint. He wasn't used to clothes. Somehow he got it off without ripping it, which he
was tempted to do more than once, but he would need it so they could sneak out of here again.
He looked down at the trousers that hid his robotic legs. It had taken a bit of doing to get them on.
He felt a little ridiculous, but he supposed he'd better leave them on.
The sound of a TV drifted through the thin wall. Minion could hear the sounds of people talking
from a room right above them, their voices punctuated by brief bursts of laughter.
The toilet flushed and Megamind came out beaming with relief and smug satisfaction.
What did I tell you, Minion? Smooooooooth, he said, moving his arm through the air as if he
were smoothing out a bedsheet.
I don't like it, Minion grumbled.
Megamind 'tch'-ed and rolled his eyes. So sorry this isn't the Hilton, he said. But... He flopped
over the room's creaking heater. ....it's waaaaaaarm. He closed his eyes and sighed.
I still don't like it, Minion said. And I don't think she thought we were father and son, Sir.
I know exactly what she was thinking, Minion. Who cares? It's not against the law for two men
to rent a hotel room.
But, if you're going to be a worrywart, you can stand guard at this handy window here. With a
flourish, he whipped back the heavy tattered curtain. It overlooks the street.
Sir! Someone'll see! Minion said, yanking the curtain closed again.
Grinning, Megamind turned to go to the bathroom. Now, I am going to take a shower, and I'm
not coming out until every drop of hot water on the block is gone.
He slammed the door behind him with gusto.
Just his luck, it was a slow night for the Metro City Police Department. In response to Gladys' call,
they responded in short order.
-------Megamind was seriously considering sleeping in the shower. He'd been so cold it felt like his
bones were frozen. The hot water was thawing him out.
A metal arm reached through the shower curtain and turned it off.
There had better be, Megamind said, an extremely good...
Sir, the police are here!
Dripping and furious, Megamind clutched the towel around his waist and went to the window.
A squad car was parked on the street. You have GOT to be kidding me! he shouted.
He scrubbed off with the towel vigorously. Still damp, he yanked his clothes on while Minion
opened the door a crack and listened.
Sir, I can hear the manager! She said something about the second floor! I think they're coming
up!

Pulling on his boots, Megamind hopped out into the hall. Minion grabbed their coats and scarves,
and made a flustered effort to get all of the scattered clothes. Time was of the essence. Megamind
hadn't bothered trying to put all of his many layers back on, but had made do with one shirt and
pair of pants. There were too many garments. Trembling, arms full of coats, he joined Megamind
in the hall. The sound of footsteps came from the stairwell.
Megamind raised the de-gun.
Sir, check the setting! Minion whispered, suddenly uneasy. What's it set on?
Megamind didn't bother answering. He noticed, with a vague detachment, that the gun did not
shake at all. The night of their escape seemed a very long time ago. The de-gun was an extension
of him now. He knew exactly which setting it was on.
Gladys came out of the stairwell first, sifting through a bunch of keys in her hand. She took two
more steps and looked up. At the sight of Megamind she gasped and froze. The cop behind her
was equally surprised. Two pairs of wide eyes confronted him.
Megamind shot the cop. The cube dropped to the thin gray carpet, and there was a small yelp and
a lot of banging and crashing as the second officer fell down the stairs. Gladys flattened herself
against the wall as Megamind dashed past. Minion followed.
The other cop was lying on the first landing, face contorted in pain, holding his arm. Megamind
jumped over him on his flight down.
Wait, Sir! You should get him too! Minion yelled. The sound of pounding feet was the only
reply. Minion stopped by the stricken cop, leaned down and took the gun from his holster.
Stay there, he ordered. The cop didn't look to be in any shape to follow, anyway. Minion
hurried down, coats in one hand, gun in the other.
From above, Gladys found her voice and began screaming. Megamind was darting around the
lobby in a flurry of impatience. A voice from the hotel's office thundered, Gladys? What's the
matter?
Come on, come on, hurry up, slowpoke! Megamind cried. He pushed out into the freezing
night.
Minion shouldered the frost-covered door a little too hard and the glass cracked. Oops, he
muttered.
He joined Megamind on the sidewalk, who had stopped by the squad car.
The police car was idling.
They glanced at each other. The car chugged, waiting.
I'm driving, Minion said, surging around the front bumper.
Megamind leaped over the hood. No, I am! he shouted. Cackling, he yanked the door open and
jumped behind the wheel.
Wha-? No fair! Minion cried. He hurried back around to the passenger side. He barely got in
before Megamind hit the gas. They tore down the street with a squeal of tires.
Where's the sirens? Turn 'em on! Full speed ahead! Megamind shouted. Minion found the

switch, and they blared along the road at full intensity.

Did you see them? The looks on their faces? Minion laughed. That was awesome!
Megamind opened the window and leaned out into the arctic air. Eat my dust, Metrocity! he
yelled, and laughed long and hard.
He pulled his head back in, rolled up the window, and they roared off into the night.
-----The two officers who had answered the call at the hotel were suspended for leaving their car in a
vulnerable position. And they were the butt of their colleagues' jokes for many weeks thereafter,
for general idiocy.
-----Parker trudged up the stairs. The ending of the cold snap had not brought an end to his troubles.
His wife was not doing well. She was drifting, wandering around the house like a ghost.
Sometimes she didn't even get out of bed until noon. Her doctor prescribed a new medication, but
he warned him to keep an eye on her.
Morning, Andrew, he said to his assistant, but his eyes were on the two men waiting in the
reception area.
One of them overwhelmed the chair. Everything about him was blocky, from his head to his squat
legs. The other was a clean-cut man with a strong jaw. He stood up in one smooth movement. The
blocky man got up somewhat more ponderously.
Clean-cut took out his badge to show Parker and gave him a slight smile. Mr. Parker? I'm Agent
Ed Corbin, Department of Paranormal Investigations. They shook hands. Parker restrained a
grimace. Agent Corbin was the sort who equated 'a firm handshake' with 'a bone-crushing grip.'
This is my partner, Agent Leroy Bates. Bates also shook hands, but made no attempt at a smile.
At least he didn't try the bone-crushing maneuver.
May we have a few minutes of your time? I have some questions about your foster son, said
Agent Corbin.

Chapter End Notes

"But wait!" you are thinking. "Wouldn't the water in the cistern be frozen?" And you
would be right to think that. The answer is that Metro Man used his laser vision to

melt the water before he poured it onto the fire, but there didn't seem to be a way to
work it into the narrative.
Or maybe you are not thinking that at all, but are wondering what Agent Corbin is up
to.

Breaking Down
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Parker ushered the two men into his office, his expression carefully blank, as if receiving a visit
from federal agents was an everyday occurrence.
I have to say I've not heard of your particular department, Agent Corbin, said Parker. He
gestured at the chairs in front of the desk and they all took their seats. A secret agency?
Corbin gave him a brief smile. Hardly. We are merely...low key. I expect as time goes on we will
become more familiar to the public.
We at DPI are beginning to have some concerns about the Metro City police being able to handle
the situation, he continued. We would have come to see you sooner, but that bad storm rolled in,
and then we were called away. That business in Iowa. Rotten travel weather.
Don't you think that calling in a sniper so quickly was rather extreme? Parker had heard that
Philip Larsen, the self-proclaimed Weather Wizard, was paralyzed. He wondered who had made
the ruthless call.
We're not allowed to discuss the case, said Corbin. Let me just say that time was of the
essence. Now, if you could tell me about Megamind's escape. Why do you think he decided so
suddenly to depart, after years of relative quiet?
Parker described the circumstances leading to his escape, his increasing restlessness and
frustration, the uptick in fights. He told them about the chaos in the license plate assembly room
that led to Megamind's first trip to solitary.
Just a taser was enough to take Minion out? Bates said, his voice a low rumble.
It interferes with his electrical system.
That could be helpful in bringing them in, Corbin said. It's my understanding that Minion is
rather protective. They're quite close, aren't they?
Like brothers, Parker said. He tried not to let himself think too much about what bringing them
in would actually entail. Getting tased was probably the most humane way of capturing them.
Certainly preferable to getting shot.
I would like to update my files, Corbin said. What powers does Megamind have? My records
seem rather vague on this point.
Parker nodded. You should see some of the things he's come up with. He could build a computer
out of a toaster. He speaks seven languages, last time I counted. We had three smugglers from
Beijing here for two months and he picked that up in no time.
He learned Chinese in only two months? Bates said.
Hmmm, Parker thought. No. No, it was more like ten, maybe twelve days.
Though even that might've been overly generous. To Parker it seemed like he'd picked it up over
the course of a weekend. Parker had seen the boy watching the Chinese men in fascination,

staring at them as they conversed, his own mouth and throat moving silently. Sometimes he passed
the boy in the library or mess hall and he could hear him reciting words to himself. It certainly
sounded like Chinese. And then it seemed like in only a few days he was chattering away at the
Chinese men, while they looked at him in surprise and mild amusement. Parker spoke with the
one who had the best grasp of English and asked him if the boy was really talking with them in
their native tongue, and the man answered that yes he was, though some of his pronunciations
needed correcting. Mandarin Chinese depended heavily on the right tone, and the wrong tone
could change a simple request for directions into a bit of dialogue from a surreal theater play.
Corbin shifted in his seat and sighed through his nose. I'm not talking about his wonderful
intellect, sir, said Corbin. What I'm looking for is something above and beyond what us poor
ordinary humans possess.
Parker sensed where this was heading, but Corbin's tone was beginning to irritate him. Perhaps it
wasn't fair to judge someone based on the quality of his handshake, but he hadn't appreciated
getting his hand crushed. It indicated that Corbin was determined to establish dominance rather
than respect, as if the status of a federal agent was well above that of a mere prison warden. Parker
answered the question, while at the same time being completely dense.
Well, his night vision is pretty good, Parker said.
Yes? Corbin leaned forward a little.
He heals from injury much more quickly than average, and he's rarely sick.
All right. Corbin nodded.
Parker thought a little more. He has a good head for maps.
And how do you know that?
We had him over to the house a few times when he was very little. One time we had to take a
detour because of road construction and he recited the entire route that we should have taken. And
on the way back he gave me directions! Told me which turn to take before I even could turn the
blinker on. Parker actually felt a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth, and stopped himself from
grinning.
Corbin looked at him with a stoney expression. Mr. Parker, I'm referring to something a little
more significant. Does he have psychic powers? Or any other super powers?
No, Parker said.
Bates drummed his fingers on his broad knee. Corbin tapped his foot, once, and looked down at
the floor for a moment.
Do you think it's possible he's hidden such abilities from you? Corbin asked, looking up again
with an air of strained patience.
Parker said, No, I don't think that he has tricked me into making me think that he doesn't have
them.
He knew this, because he'd done his research. The few rare cases of people truly being
manipulated by a psychic always displayed tell-tale signs, such lost memories, fuzzy thinking, and
abnormal behavior like suddenly being unable to perform simple tasks like turning on a light
switch or walking across a room without explicit instructions. In the absence of, say, heavy
drinking or the onset of a mental disorder, psychic manipulation had been the cause.

And hiding such powers from the entire prison population? He seriously doubted it.
If he had any, I don't think that he would've been able to resist using them. There have been
countless situations where being able to manipulate someone's thoughts would have been to his
benefit. There has not even been the slightest hint of psychic ability, or other super powers. Unless
unbridled sarcasm has been redefined as a super power. You can ask anyone here.
Agent Corbin looked displeased. Parker couldn't imagine why. Wouldn't this information make
his job a little easier? One would think that pursuing an ordinary teenager would be preferable to
pursuing someone with laser breath or super speed or something like that.
Of course, Megamind was not exactly ordinary. His ability to evade capture bordered on the
uncanny.
Bates spoke up again. These uncles that helped raise him, are any of them out on parole?
Yes, a few are, and the police have already questioned them. He has made no attempt to seek
them out. I think he's determined to go it alone, said Parker.
I'd prefer to conduct my own investigation, said Corbin. May I have their names and
addresses?
Parker went to have a quiet word with his assistant, and Andrew put together the required list.
According to my files, shortly after he was expelled from school as a six year old, some FBI
agents came to speak with you, Corbin said when Parker came back into the office. and to
observe the security measures at this facility, but you refused to cooperate with them. May I ask
why? He gave Parker a look full of challenge.
Parker returned his gaze steadily. Now he's calling me hostile and uncooperative? Let's see, how
to answer without implying that is just about the biggest crock I ever heard? That's a funny way
of putting it.
How do you mean?
They didn't come here to speak with me, they came here intending to seize custody of him.
The two agents glanced at each other. Why do you say that? said Corbin.
Because three nights after his expulsion, I got a call from my security chief at 1:30 in the
morning, saying that three FBI agents were here, demanding to take the boy. You think I'm
making this up? he said in a low voice.
No, of course not, sir, Bates said hastily. It's just...surprising.
I wasn't surprised, Parker thought. He'd actually been expecting them to pull some kind of stunt
like that sooner or later.
Parker was pretty sure that the agents hadn't been expecting the prison guards to put up much
protest at their intrusion, but they hadn't counted on the presence of security chief Schmidt, or on
Al Kopecki, the one guard that Megamind called uncle. Neither of them were about to let the boy
get spirited away in the dead of night. Schmidt didn't usually work at night, but once in a while he
would do a graveyard shift to make sure everything was to his satisfaction. He was not overly
fond of Megamind even back then, but he knew full well when an act of underhanded trickery
was going on, and had refused to let the FBI agents even see the boy.

What did you do, then? Corbin asked.

What Parker had done was curse, and call his lawyer, and tear over to the prison like a bat out of
hell.
My lawyer Miranda Tolliver agreed to meet me here, and she and I confronted them, he said
calmly. And they acted like there must have been some mistake, and left. Mrs.Tolliver had
shown up with her hair in curlers. She threatened an endless number of lawsuits, promised to
expose everything in the media, and harangued them with legalese until they didn't know which
end was up. The agents gave some excuse about discussing the matter with their superiors, and
got out of there.
Well, it would seem that I have been misinformed, then, said Corbin. I am merely trying to
understand, Mr. Parker. Despite being incarcerated for his entire life, he has no trouble traveling
around this massive city, and dodges the police with ease. How do you explain that?
Parker sighed and lifted his hands in frustration. He seems to avoid capture merely by being
where the police are not. What else can I say?
Yes, but he's not exactly avoiding them anymore, is he? You heard how he ambushed those two
officers? One of them was shot, the other left with a broken arm.
But the one who was shot with the de-gun is alive and unharmed, and the other guy got a broken
arm from falling down the stairs, Parker thought, but he didn't say it out loud because he knew it
would sound like he was making excuses. Yes, I know. I don't know how to explain it. He keeps
on the move.
Has Megamind contacted you or anyone else in your family?
Quite without his approval, a sudden image of Ronnie the gas station attendant came to the surface
of Parker's thoughts. He never had told anyone about Megamind's 'tutoring' sessions.
Parker clasped his hands together on the desk and looked Corbin in the eye. No. Other than a
prank call he made to my house on the night of his escape, Megamind has never contacted me,
he said.
Corbin held his gaze, then looked down at his notes again.
After a few more questions, Corbin and Bates got up. Thank you for your time, Mr. Parker, said
Corbin. If you can think of anything that might be helpful to our investigation, please give me a
call. He gave him his card, then they walked out the door.
Parker sat down again, slowly. I wonder what the penalty is for concealing information from a
federal investigator? he thought glumly. There was probably a mandatory sentence. But
Megamind didn't contact me. The agent asked me if he'd directly contacted me, was probably not
going to appease whatever investigatory board was put on his case. It didn't sound very good,
even to his own ears.
----------Corbin and Bates walked out into the parking lot. The news that Minion could be so easily
neutralized could be useful, but the meeting with the warden had not been quite as productive as
hed hoped. Little freak doesn't gamble, Corbin said, fuming. He dehydrates any drug dealer
that comes near him, he doesn't have any friends, or girlfriends.
Scared the heck out of those high school girls, Bates said.

Corbin waved an impatient hand. That must have been some kind of prank. Those girls were
making up stories. There's plenty of friendly ladies around on the west side and he doesn't visit
them. What does he got, morals?
Guess he's shy.
Corbin shook his head in disgust. What is this world coming to. What else does a boy want?
Food? Games?
Bates scowled at him. It's not like he's starving. And he's got plenty of games now, Ed. He got
into the car.
Corbin's face darkened. Hey, why don't you just shut up. He slammed the door rather harder
than necessary.
You shut up, Bates retorted. How'd he follow you home? He turned the key in the ignition.
What do you think I've been trying to figure out! A 'good head for maps', Corbin snarled.
There's nothing special about him! Nothing! A big head and a pop gun and a pet fish!
Except he broke into your place, his 'pet fish' beat you up and he walked off with the score, Bates
thought. No one had ever done anything like that to Corbin. He must be slipping. Bates mentally
reviewed his escape plan. If this whole thing went south, he planned to be in Winnipeg when it
happened. He had his new passport and ID all set to go.
Put a tap on all of Parker's phones. He has a daughter and a son living at home, they both have
cells, cover those calls, too, said Corbin.
Bates pulled out onto the road. Thin ice, man. You're going to have to find a way to justify it.
Parker's hiding something. You see the way his hands jittered around Besides, Megamind signed
the register at the hotel with Parker's name. He could have put any name down. What does that tell
you?
Bates shrugged. First person he thought of, I guess.
Corbin grinned mirthlessly. I'll bet he misses Daddy. He might call him, and if that happens, I
want to be sure to trace it.
---------Officer Hernandez leaned over to press the button on the intercom, and announced his presence to
the gruff voice on the other end.
It's about time, Lord Scott grumbled, and buzzed them in.
The police car pulled to stop, tires crunching over the remains of old ice. Officers Hernandez and
Griffin got out and inspected the towering graffiti that covered the mansion.
Megamind Rules, Griffin read aloud. She shook her head. This is the big emergency that
couldn't wait?
Now be fair, Hernandez said. Look, there's three, no, count 'em, four exclamation marks. And
the words are surrounded by lightning bolts. That, my friend, is a rich man's emergency.
Griffin ducked her head for a moment to hide her smile. The door to the house opened and a man

wearing a smoking jacket came out, trailing streams of important outrage.

What, may I ask, is the police department going to do about this? Lord Scott demanded in
clipped tones.
The officers were careful not to exchange glances. We're pursuing all available leads, sir,
Hernandez said stiffly.
Did you hear or see anything unusual last night? Griffin asked.
Of course not! Else I would've called the police last night, he said, managing to convey by his
tone that she was a fool to even ask. In any case isn't it obvious who performed this---this act of
unmitigated gall? It's outrageous! The way he runs rings around the city's finest!
Griffin and Hernandez looked at him solemnly. Of all the things that police officers saw on a
regular basis, vandalism was pretty low on their list of Things To Be Outraged About.
It's possible that someone else could have committed this act, Hernandez said with an amazing
amount of patience. An admirer of Megamind's, or another troublemaker.
The door opened again and Lady Scott came out wearing a coat around her shoulders and a small
smile.
Would you officers like some coffee? Sophia just made a fresh pot, she said.
No thank you, ma'am, said Griffin, returning her smile. Is Wayne around? He might have
heard something. It would be astonishing if he hadn't.
Lord Scott's jaw tightened and he looked away at some distant horizon. Lady Scott glanced at him
and said, Wayne's on a trip with his class jazz ensemble. They went to Lansing for a competition.
They're coming back today.
Was this common knowledge? The perpetrator probably knew he'd be out, said Griffin.
Lady Scott opened her mouth but Lord Scott beat her to it. It was in the paper. I think they might
have even mentioned it on the ten o'clock news. Wayne's movements were an endless source of
fascination for the media, even a mundane class trip. Can you get on with the investigation now
please? Lord Scott said.
A brief examination of the snow around the house seemed to indicate that Megamind was, indeed,
the culprit. His bootprints could have belonged to just about any punk, but Minion's deep,
rectangular footprints were unmistakable, unless there was another robot henchman wandering
about the city.
-----Three more days passed. A warm front moved in from the south. The snow developed a sheen as
the surface melted slightly during the day, then froze again when the sun went down. Bit by
minuscule bit, the mountains of snow began to shrink. Water trickled in the gutters. The thaw had
begun.
------Fog rolled in. Agents Feiffer and Pitt settled in for another long night. Pitt was in the driver's seat,
slouched down and catching up on some shut-eye. The Tanaka Industries compound was an
island of giant blocks in a sea of fog. The other unmarked car was parked on the other side of the

compound, invisible in the swirling mist.

I didn't think I'd be signing on for this, Feiffer thought gloomily. When he joined DPI a year ago,
he thought he'd be meeting lots of interesting people, people with fantastic and unusual abilities.
They were interesting all right. Somehow he didn't think they'd all be so criminal. He had once
been disposed to be sympathetic to the plight of these troubled, super-powered beings, believing
that once the government's new stance on extending a friendly hand to these supers was fully
understood, then he could be instrumental in helping them turn their lives around. It was
depressing to discover that supers were, in the end, as human as anyone else (mostly), with the
same tangled lives and psychological weaknesses, only with a lot more power to really make a
mess of things.
How long are we going to keep doing this?
Pitt responded without opening his eyes. We have no other leads. Corbin figures that Megamind
never got what he originally came for at Tanaka. He's hoping that he'll be back.
Do you think he will?
Just keep watching.
How does he know Megamind tried to break in here already? Feiffer was not part of Corbin's
inner circle and this fact had been nagging at him.
Anonymous tip, Pitt murmured, who was in the inner circle, but had serious doubts that
anything was going to happen. If the alien knew what was good for him, he'd keep well away.
I gotta take a leak, Feiffer announced and stepped out into the drifting fog. He didn't want to go
too far from the car. Corbin had promised that one of his special operatives would be making
the rounds sooner or later. He hoped it wasn't Psycho Delic. That guy was beyond creepy. Even
with the power inhibitor strapped to his neck, Psycho Delic always wore a disturbing smile, as if
he knew a little joke that no one else had caught onto yet. Feiffer walked over to the nearest snow
drift and unzippered.
Which is when Megamind pressed the de-gun into the small of his back and said, Don't move.
Minion loomed out of the fog, ripped the car door off its hinges and yanked Pitt out, all in one
smooth movement. He threw Pitt's gun away and trapped his arms.
Megamind reached around very carefully and removed Feiffer's gun and tossed it into a drift.
Hands behind your head. Oh, you better zip up first, he said, grinning. Feiffer hastened to get
reorganized. My God, you were even easier than the two in the other car! They'll let anyone into
DPI, won't they? Megamind chuckled, shaking his head.
There was a squeak from Pitt. Minion wasn't about to let this agent wriggle out of his grip and
Pitt's knees were buckling.
Megamind backed up a little to let Feiffer turn around. I have a message for Corbin, he said.
See that you deliver it. Tell him that he should have realized that I knew that he knew I would be
trying to break into Tanaka Industries again, and that he should have known that I would know
that. Got it?
Feiffer's mouth opened and closed and he shook his head in bafflement.
I see I shall have to simplify, Megamind said with a sigh. He stroked his chin thoughtfully with
his free hand. Hmm. Tell him that the fox will always outwit the shadow.

Megamind fired. He tossed both cubes into the car.

'The fox will always outwit the shadow'? Minion said drily, raising an eyebrow.
What? Megamind said with a grin and a shrug. That's a good one.
-----------Officer Fleet turned the car down Cattail Drive and stopped next to the Polar North Warehouse.
Where to now, Detective? he asked.
Detective Buford scanned the lighted up warehouse and the surrounding buildings, many of them
dark and deserted. In the lee of the doorway, one of the warehouse employees was enjoying a
quiet smoke.
He probably should come back tomorrow, when the sun was up, he thought. He should have
remembered how desolate this area was. The street lights still worked, but most of the buildings
were not even in use anymore.
Getting an irate phone call from the richest man in town had galvanized the commanding rank.
Lord Scott had called the commissioner, the commissioner had called the captain, and the captain
had called Buford into his office and asked him some very pointed questions about his progress on
the Megamind case, or lack thereof.
Buford was slow but methodical, and he had a backlog of hundreds of leads, almost all of which
were along the lines of I know a guy who said his second cousin saw Megamind buying a VCR
off the old lady next door. It was usually somebody who knew somebody else.
The ones that were out and out crazy could be thrown out, but he was stuck with checking out the
rest, no matter how vague they were.
At least he would be able to report on where Megamind wasn't. That was something. And he had
been angered by the attack on his colleagues the other night. True, the officers had been negligent,
leaving their car running, even if they were just answering a simple call about a trespassing junkie,
but getting ambushed like that?
Let's try this street, Buford said, pointing. It seemed like a reasonable path for a confused drunk
to take. Keep your eyes peeled for any kind of mural. The nurse said this Logan was rambling on
about some horse painting.
Could be anywhere, Fleet said. This fog's not helping much either, Detective.
Buford nodded. Yeah, I know. We should at least take a look around, now we're here. They
circled around, tried another street, peering into the fog.
But it wasn't a mural that caught Buford's attention. It was the cleared driveway. They'd passed
numerous alleys and side streets that were clogged with snow from the recent storm. This old
building with its boarded up windows looked as deserted as most of the others they'd passed,
except for the fresh tire tracks that ran down the alley next to it.
They drove slowly around the block once, and then they saw it, a mural of a horse-drawn fire
engine painted on the side of a building, just like Logan Wannamaker had said.
Fleet parked the car across the street from the factory and made a brief call to the station, so

somebody would know where they were. They got out of the car. The area in front of the factory
was covered with deep drifts of snow.
They went down the alley. Buford was not a superstitious man, but the fog muffled sound and
gave a ghostly quality to the surroundings, like some cheap monster movie. He found himself
tiptoeing. Well, he had to move quietly, didn't he? So as not to startle or alert whoever was using
this place.
Some homeless people did own cars, even if they had little else. It was possible that someone
completely innocent was squatting here, though from long experience Buford knew that 'innocent'
was a relative term.
The back door was unlocked, which was good, because it saved having to decide whether to
knock or kick it down. There were footprints here. They both drew their guns and Buford turned
on his flashlight. They walked in, ears straining for any noise, looking into the shadows.
They stopped by their missing police car that sat in the middle of the main floor, next to a cherry
red Mustang.
Buford gestured with his head for them to leave and they quietly made their way back to the car.
There still was no sound from anywhere in the building, but they werent taking any chances.
Buford called the station. We found Megaminds hideout, he said. Send back-up.
------------Megamind dehydrated the last guard and looked around him with satisfaction and no small
amount of glee. The Tanaka compound was overwhelming his senses, like his first visit to a
shopping center, where there were so many things to see and touch and smell and taste he had
become giddy.
Now this was what real labs were like! This was a a place where innovations could really happen.
So clean. So orderly. Shining walls. No cobwebs anywhere or scuttling mice. The rows of
computer monitors, the robotic arms, the hazmat suits! Fantastic. No dust or mold to gum up
sensitive circuitry or get into mechanical joints.
He paused by one of the shiny stainless steel walls to admire his reflection. The one thing he
missed about the prison uniform, the only thing, was that it actually fit. Wearing clothes that didn't
flap around his ankles were a thing of the past, now that Minion had finally gotten his sewing
machine. He was dressed all in black, everything tailored just right. He adjusted the collar on his
new shirt.
He strode through the corridors drinking it all in, and paused by a door with the sign Light
Refraction Test Run. Do Not Enter. There were no biohazard warning labels on the door, so he
entered.
When he exited the room he was in a very thoughtful state of mind. He'd been thinking a lot lately
about disguises and how much easier it would be if he could blend into the crowd. With spring
coming on, there would be no more hiding under bulky winter coats and scarves. But...if he were
invisible....
This might take some time.
The sorts of things they were trying in the test run room looked to be roads to nowhere. Big
blocky screens and clumsy machinery. It looked like they were trying to get some kind of
camouflage screen in operation, but he could tell they were not going to succeed. He'd taken some

photos, though, with one of his digital cameras, for reference about what not to do, and went to
locate Minion, brain buzzing with thoughts of light refraction, holograms, and molecular
structures.
He found Minion operating a remote control for a robot across the floor. Megamind watched as
Minion steered it around the room, its treads moving it along at just under tortoise speed.
Megamind snorted and shook his head. I think I built something like that when I was five.
Remember? Only it was faster. Don't they have anything better than these remote control toys? Oh
well. I'm sure I'll find some use for it, if only for spare parts. Pack it up, Minion.
First things first! He'd put off building Minion's new robot suit for far too long.
A door on the far side of the room banged open. A young man festooned with dreadlocks and
shoving a cleaning cart stopped dead at the sight of them. Reggae music echoed tinnily from his
headphones.
They all stared at each other, then Megamind drew the de-gun and the janitor fled. The cleaning
cart disappeared in a burst of light as it was cubed and Megamind charged through the open door
in hot pursuit.
There weren't supposed to be any custodians wandering about! It was Friday! The cleaning crews
were all supposed to be out by 9:30! What was he here for, extra credit?
After him Minion! he shouted as an afterthought, though Minion was way behind. The guy was
fast too, fear giving him wings. Megamind ran harder, aimed, fired. He missed, but a vending
machine was neatly dehydrated. Running and shooting was a lot harder than it looked.
Megamind pounded grimly on as the janitor raced for freedom, through one door, and then
another. Megamind skittered around the corner just in time to see the janitor pushing open the
emergency exit. The alarm blared shrilly through the hallways.
Megamind slowed to a stop panting, furious. He should get after that bastard, dehydrate him, and
drop him in the nearest garbage can!
Minion trotted up behind him. I'll get the van, he said.
NO! Megamind shouted. We're not getting chased off AGAIN! It'll take a few minutes for the
cops to get here, he shouted to be heard over the noise. I'm NOT leaving until I get something
worthwhile to take home!
He ran to the nearest lab and began shooting everything in sight, experiments, computers, robotic
limbs, anything that looked vaguely interesting.
But...wait...Sir, you'll have to rehydrate... think of the water damage... Minion fluttered
helplessly around in a circle as Megamind blasted sensitive equipment into cubes.
I'll reverse engineer, we can get decent parts elsewhere, this isn't the only place in town with
robotic components! Megamind shouted, and ran on to the next lab. Minion hurriedly began
scooping the cubes into cases.
Megamind tore through the lab with all the sensitivity of a bulldozer. He was halfway through
when a sudden horrible thought stopped him in his tracks.
The alarm had gone off when the janitor fled through the exit door. It shouldn't have gone off. His
key-o-matic should have disabled the entire security system when they first broke in. They'd been

here for ten point four minutes.

Had another alarm been tripped somewhere? When had it been tripped? Was there an emergency
system that kicked in when the first one ceased to function?
Minion, we have to go, he called.
Minion grabbed two random cases stuffed with cubes and they ran out into the parking lot. Sirens
from the approaching squad cars blazed through the fog, red lights flashing, muffled by the haze.
Most fortuitously, they had parked near the back door this time, and the van was pointed outward
for an easy get away. They tore away from the accursed compound of Tanaka Industries and
raced into the night.
The roads that led back into the city were full of blaring sirens. Flashing lights were muffled,
looking like florescent candy wrapped in cotton. Minion took a back street out into the countryside
while Megamind tried to puzzle out what had gone wrong.
He seethed, and ground his teeth, and ran the schematics for the Tanaka security system through
his head again and again. They'd updated their system, obviously, after the break-in by Shadow
and his gang, but he'd already made the necessary adjustments! What sort of system were they
using?
A certain change in the van's movements brought him out of his fevered thoughts. There was a
definite gravel component to the road noise. He frowned suspiciously at Minion.
Minion, he said, We appear to be on a dirt road. Why are we on a dirt road?
Ummm, maybe because I sort of missed the turnoff? Minion said nervously.
Megamind caught a glimpse of a road sign as they whizzed past.
This is County Road 120! he said incredulously. How far back was that turnoff? Now we have
to go all the way down to 95!
Well, it's so foggy, Sir.
The next sign they roared through was a stop sign, but they didn't actually stop until they rear
ended the vehicle stopped on the side of the road, breaking its taillight and knocking one of their
own headlights askew.
They stared at the state trooper's car, then Minion slammed the van into reverse with a spray of
gravel and old snow and backed up and away, then they were tearing down the road again at
decidedly unsafe speeds. Behind them came a blaze of light and noise as the trooper began
pursuing.
Well, that's great. That's just great, Megamind fumed as they sailed on into the befogged night,
trees whipping by. The road seemed endless. Then the van hit a patch of ice and they skidded
across the road and slammed headfirst into a sign. This impact was much harder.
Megamind carefully peeled himself off Minion's outflung arm and pressed a hand to his streaming
nose.
Are you all right, Sir? Minion said hoarsely. He was halfway under the steering wheel and was
sitting on the floor.
By node, Megamind said indistinctly. His heart thudded dully in his chest. It was a toss-up

whether flying face first into the dashboard or a robotic arm was worse, but then again, Minion
had probably saved him from going through the windshield. In any case a bloody nose was the
least of his worries. He touched it carefully.
Idd's nod brogen, he said. He took his hand away. The bleeding was slowing.
Their single working headlight showed the sign they'd crashed into: WELCOME TO THE
NORTON COUNTY NATURE PRESERVE AND CROSS COUNTRY TRAILS. In smaller
script below it read Entrance 1 Mile.
Megamind staggered out of the van. The snow was hip deep. The trooper's car went sailing by,
sirens beating the air. There was a squeal of brakes and grinding gravel as it overshot and the
driver hit the brakes.
Boss, I'm in trouble! Minion cried.
Megamind leaned back in and peered under the steering wheel. Minion's legs had punched
through the floor on impact. The left hip joint was crunched right up into the pelvis. Again with
the hip joint! The other leg was crumpled, too. He was going to have to do some serious redesigning. Of course, plunging through the rusty floor and slamming into the ground was some
pretty heavy testing.
He and Minion shared a look of mute understanding. He drew the de-gun.
Be careful, Sir, Minion whispered.
Aren't I always? he responded with a crooked bloody grin, and shot him.
The engine of the patrol car groaned as the trooper backed up and trained his headlights on the
scene. The light caught Megamind as he plunged into the fog-shrouded woods and disappeared.
The van's door swung open, empty, leaving behind churned snow and a few drops of blood.

Chapter End Notes

Poor Minion, dehydrated again! But it was the easiest way for Megamind to get him
out of there. Norton County is fictional, and so is the nature preserve. I had to create a
forest for Megamind to get lost in.

Into the Woods

Chapter Notes

As I mentioned in chapter 16, Norton County and hence the Norton County Nature
Preserve does not actually exist, except as a figment of my imagination, because I
needed to have a forest big enough for Megamind to get lost in.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Most of Michigan's forests are in its Upper Peninsula. The Lower Peninsula, where Metro City is
located, is defined by sand dunes and rolling farmland, and nearly all of its forests were logged
over a century ago. A few wooded areas remain, however. The one that Megamind was currently
slogging through was a project of conservationists to restore some of the lost woodlands of beech
and maple.
Beautiful though the landscape was, Megamind had his fill of it about two minutes after wading
into the snowy woods. If there had ever been any lingering doubts in his mind about whether or
not he was a city boy, they were quickly dispelled. His previous experiences with Nature had
consisted mainly of a few forced chases through various city parks.
He waded through the drifts, pausing now and then to listen for pursuit, but the trooper must've
been the cautious sort who waited for back up. It looked as if he didn't want to pursue the alien
into the foggy woods, despite the wide trail that Megamind was conveniently breaking through the
heavy snow. Perhaps the trooper thought he would be looking at the wrong end of Minion's fist if
he came after them. He probably didn't know that Minion was tucked away in the pocket of
Megamind's bulky coat.
Megamind felt in his pocket to reassure himself that the cube was still there. The last thing he
wanted was for it to get jostled out, unnoticed, into the snow.
Soon Megamind left the sounds of the patrol car and the police radio behind him. The flashing
lights seemed to penetrate the woods and the fog for much longer than he liked, but soon even that
faded. He put his back against a handy tree and looked back along the meandering trail he'd left in
the snow while he caught his breath.
He'd never been so far outside the city limits before, but he'd seen maps. He did, indeed, have a
good memory for maps and directions, as the warden had surmised. One look was enough. Let's
see, the Norton County Nature Center he remembered as a little rectangle sitting just off County
Road 120. The sign they'd crashed into had stated that the road leading to the nature center was
one mile away.
So, he would continue to head south, south-east, he'd make it to the center, where, hopefully, he
would run across a utility vehicle or a snowmobile, so he could get out of there before
reinforcements arrived and cordoned off the whole area.
He pressed on. The fog indicated that some serious thawing was going on, but there was still
plenty of snow. The trees thinned out, the underbrush grew thicker and more tangled for a while,
then opened into stretches of meadow with scattered trees. But the worst obstacle was the snow.
Sometimes he would be walking along, sinking in just up to the ankles or shins, then suddenly
he'd plunge in up to the hip. He had snow in his boots, up his pant legs, and after saving himself

from a falling a few times, right up his sleeves as well. He zipped up the pocket that contained the
cube to keep snow out of it. He picked at the dried blood his face, though it smarted. His nose
throbbed.
Where were the damn trails? Didn't they clear them? Surely they maintained them for the
birdwatchers and other assorted treehuggers. Or was slogging through the snow all part of the
appeal?
The woods closed in around him again. It was a little easier for a while, in some places the trees
seemed to have provided a buffer against the snow. His feet landed unexpectedly onto a narrow
stretch of packed ground.
At last, a trail! It had to lead to the center eventually, it seemed to meander in the direction he
wanted to go. He shook his feet to dislodge the worst of the accumulation, then set off at a jog.
His ears strained for sounds of approaching sirens. He should be able to hear them, the road was
still pretty close.
Drifts brushed by his shoulders as he trotted along in the white gloom. There was nothing but
white snow, white fog, and the black trunks of the trees. It wasn't a completely black night. The
heavy cloud cover captured the lights of the nearby city and the small towns scattered around the
area, lending a haze of light even out here in the woods.
He wondered why the trail was so narrow. It was barely wide enough for even his slender frame.
He imagined most hikers would have to edge through here.
He rounded a corner and space opened around him without warning. He jumped at the sudden
presence of large, furry animals. The white-tail deer looked at him, big ears swiveling in alarm, he
automatically counted them (sixteen), and then the air was filled with leaping bodies.
The deer made a brief, panicked run around the deer yard. Five of them bounded over the deep
walls of snow, but the rest circled and charged toward the only trail and he had to dive out of the
way.
They bounded away, leaving behind an impression of pounding hooves and flashing white tails,
while he was left floundering in a drift. Now he had snow down his collar, too. Panting and
cursing, he stumbled out on to the empty deer yard, trying to shake the snow out of his coat.
Stupid deer, he said, with feeling. When he got back to the lair, nature documentaries would be
his primary means of interacting with nature, the way it should be.
He returned to the trail and began to backtrack.
-----------Ulrich lifted his head as the deer trotted by. He quivered with tension, wondering what had
disturbed them. Then there was a small vibration from the communicator strapped to his wrist. He
sat back on his heels and lifted it to look at the tiny screen. The words scrolled out: Megamind
sighted heading south on County Road 20. May be in Norton County Nature Area. All agents
converge on scene.
He growled low in his throat and turned off the communicator. The faint light that it produced
might give away his position, and alien boy was a sharp sighted one.
He moved through the woods on all fours, turning his head this way and that, scenting, tasting. He
loped along steadily in the direction that the deer had come from. He had left his confining clothes
back in his apartment and his muscles rippled under his heavy fur. During the day he strove to

maintain a dignified persona, but it was very hard. At night, the rules of civilization felt like an
unwelcome weight, and memories of Vienna burned in his brain, and he would grow so angry
that he just had to hunt. He blamed the animal genes that were now an indelible part of his genetic
makeup for these fits of rage, never stopping to think that, in terms of savagery and bloodlust,
humans beat out wolves every time. Wolves hunted for survival and generally did not go ravening
through the woods looking for things to kill because they were having a hard time coping with
existence.
He liked these woods. He visited them regularly on his nightly excursions. There were a lot of
deer around in any case, sometimes they even wandered right into the city, but a large number
concentrated here, and the hunting was good. He had to be careful to hide his kills, though. There
were no large predatory animals in this region and Corbin had warned him not to draw attention to
himself.
A small breeze was blowing and he caught the scent that came to him. And there was no smell of
Minion. Oh, the blue boy had a little pistol of some sort, but that just added to the challenge. He
had run down people with guns before, even charged a few head-on. It took an extremely strongwilled, well-trained individual to get off a decent shot at a charging, leaping Ulrich.
He paused to consider his options. Corbin had insisted that the boy be taken alive. Megamind
would be alive, he would make certain of that. But surely the agent wouldnt mind if he were a
little...tattered.
The wasabi powder that Megamind had left in his path weeks ago had burned his nasal passages
badly and now his sinuses ached when the air grew too dry. A slow grin spread over his lips as he
bared his fangs. He would teach that blue boy a thing or two about leaving scent bombs.
He loped along.
----------Megamind slid down a drift in the middle of a cleared trail. A real trail, a man-made trail. At last!
It led in a meandering south-easterly direction. It must lead to the nature center. He set off at a jog,
boots crunching on the packed snow.
Soon he came across a map nailed to wooden posts and saw that, yes, he was on the right track.
There was no other sound except for his own breathing, and the sound of the crunching snow
under his boots.
The breeze picked up slightly and the fog moved sluggishly around him. Ears straining for sounds
of approaching sirens, and wary of running into more deer, he kept an eye cocked for other
unexpected fauna. The trees went on and on. He passed a more open spot with two benches and
another sign describing the wonders of the view he could have seen if it werent the middle of a
foggy night. He jogged on, intent on reaching his goal, to get to the center, and locate a truck or
another maintenance vehicle that he could hijack. But a feeling grew on him that he was being
watched.
It was the same feeling he got in the city, when he knew he was being watched or followed. He
had learned to trust such feelings. It was not a difficult skill; if you felt like something was wrong,
that you were under scrutiny from someone who wished you harm, you were probably right, or at
least it was safest to act as if you were right. Such feelings had been well-honed in the prison.
His race had evolved in very similar environments to the ones that humans had evolved in. That is,
they had existed for millenia in places where much larger creatures with fangs and claws were

trying to eat them. Deep within Megamind's genetic makeup, ancient senses were stirring and
growing increasingly alarmed.
He was not completely hairless. Like humans, his skin was covered with fine, downy hairs and
the back of his neck prickled with goosebumps.
The big question was, who was it? There was no doubt in his mind that it was a who rather than
a what. He saw a fair amount of wildlife in the city, the inevitable stray cats and dogs, rats and
mice, deer, raccoons, seagulls and other birds, and once even a mangy coyote scrounging in a
garbage can. Dogs had followed him and Minion a few times, out of curiosity or perhaps in hope
of a handout, but mostly they slunk away, shy of people. This did not feel like a curious animal.
The air was heavy with menace.
He eyed the trees by the trail and slowed to a walk. He wanted to get out of there, but he needed
to know who was stalking him. Surely that trooper hadn't had the nerve to follow him. Even if he
had, could he really have caught up to him so quickly? And wouldn't Megamind have run into
him as he backtracked along the deer trail?
He walked briskly, looking from side to side, and behind him. Whoever it was could be laying an
ambush. He looked up at the trees. Should he try climbing one? Maybe he could even travel
through the treetops until he got to the nature center. His few attempts at climbing had mostly
involved chain link fences, with Minion providing a helpful boost. These trees looked easy
enough to get into, with branches close to the ground in easy reach. He eyed them, calculating
how much weight they could hold, they looked a bit damp and slippery, traction could be a
problem, he would need to make sure he had a good grip. But mostly they were young trees, this
being a second-growth forest, and getting across from branch to branch would be tough, even
with the grappling hook gun. The ends of these slender branches would bend. There were a few
older, sturdier looking trees, but they were more widely spaced. It looked to be more trouble than
it was worth.
The breeze picked up again, and the fog thinned, and as Megamind looked around into the woods
that lined the trail, he saw his tracker. Deep in the trees, he saw pointed ears on a man-shaped
head, angling out from heavy shoulders. Silently the figure melted back into the fog.
Every hair on Megamind's back and neck stood on end. Ulrich the beast man! He raised the degun but Ulrich was gone. He kept walking, a little more quickly now.
During the siege of the snowstorm, he'd spent a number of hours surfing the Internet and had
uncovered something that piqued his interest, and momentarily distracted him from the dilemma
posed by being stranded in the lair. In an online German newspaper he read the disturbing case of
Dr. Strauss of Vienna, and his genetic experiments, and an accident involving one of his
assistants, Ulrich Hofstetter.
The article had been a little short on facts, as the doctor's lab had been completely trashed, and the
doctor's notes had been found shredded, along with the doctor. Perhaps Ulrichs wife could have
been able to shed some light on the matter, if theyd been able to find her.
He looked around at the trees again. Maybe he should try moving from tree to tree, after all.
Wolves couldn't climb trees. But could Ulrich climb trees? Even if he didn't attack he could keep
him trapped until the cops showed up. Alive and unmauled, but back in prison.
He touched the pocket that held Minion. He could rehydrate Minion, and then the odds would be
in his favor. Even with broken legs, Minion was still formidable. Back to back, they could easily
hold off an attacker.

Except they wouldn't be able to advance. He could no more drag Minion to the nature center than
he could have dragged that car motor down into the lair. Minion could use his arms to drag
himself along. It wasnt like crawling on the ground would make Minion cold, but it would be
pretty slow going and rather undignified. Hed better just keep walking.
This is stupid! I'm armed! I'm perfectly safe as long as I keep my wits about me and don't panic,
he chided himself. His hammering heart refused to believe it.
He ran his thumb over the settings. He could set it to de-stroy. But no, he wouldn't do that. All
he needed was one shot, and Ulrich would be cubed. He left it on de-hydrate.
It was getting that one shot was going to be the problem.
He resorted to another strategy. He stopped and peered into the trees. There was no telling where
Ulrich was.
{I'm armed, Mr. Hofstetter,} he said loudly, in German. There was no response, but the night
seemed to prick up its ears. Ulrich may not have heard his native tongue in quite some time.
Perhaps he would be curious about how Megamind had found out who he was.
{There seems to be some confusion about your role in all that business in Vienna, Mr.
Hofstetter,} Megamind said to the night at large. He began walking again, de-gun at the ready.
Where was that nature center? He'd feel a lot better with a wall at his back. {Did Corbin offer to
sneak you out of the country in return for your services? Or was it someone else from the
Department?} Perhaps bringing up Corbin's name would stir some reaction and give him a
direction to aim at.
Still nothing. Talk, dammit! he thought, sweating. {So, did Strauss skimp on your paycheck?}
he called, growing impatient. {Or did you kill him because he forgot to include you in his
footnotes?}
Ulrich wasn't talking, though the air seemed to grow thicker with menace. The silence was
deafening.
Keep walking, he told himself. Do not panic. Do not run. This is...strategic retreating.
His hand strayed to the square bulge in his coat pocket. If Ulrich jumped him, what if he shoved
the cube into Ulrichs mouth? It would reconstitute Minion straight away, and be a nasty surprise!
Ulrich would have to be painfully close, though, too close, and it didn't take much imagination to
figure out what the effects would be if Minion and his massive robot body were to suddenly
reappear within something as small as Ulrich's mouth.
Urk. It would be a fatal surprise.
No, he definitely did not want to do that. That wasn't ee-vil, that was just plain wrong. Not to
mention totally disgusting. Megamind wouldn't do that to his worst enemy. Not even to Wayne.
Well... maybe to Wayne. Despite his increasing urgency, an assortment of truly terrible ideas
blossomed in his head. Metro Man must be vulnerable on the inside as well, but what if something
like a bowling ball were dehydrated and shot right into the big lug's mouth? Surely it would be
crushed, but Megamind liked the thought of Wayne struggling to pick chunks of compressed
bowling ball out of his perfect teeth.
He walked through a fog bank into a wide open area. A parking lot! There was the black bulk of
the nature center building, fog rolling around it. He bolted for it. Immediately he knew it was a
mistake to start running but he couldn't stop now.

He heard a wooden sound, as something heavy leaped onto and over a log, and a shoofing noise
as a tree branch dumped its load of snow. Ulrich had exited the woods. Still running, he turned
partly around and fired behind him at the dark shape that was bounding toward him. He missed. A
few chunks of snow were dehydrated.
Ulrich closed with deadly speed, with a bellow that shook him to the core. The sheer force of the
noise struck him like a blow. Megamind fired again but the shot went wild. He had a split second
to see the three inch claws splayed on the ends of Ulrich's fingertips before the massive hairy body
crashed into him, clawed hands shoving his gun arm over his head. Pain ripped through his arm as
Ulrich's claws tore open coat sleeve, shirt sleeve, flesh, and he lost hold of the de-gun. Contorting
with pain, he managed one backhanded punch to one crazed yellow eye with his other fist and
then the hairy body collided with him and slammed him into the ground. The force of the attack
sent Megamind sliding on his back over the packed snow. Snarling and squinting, Ulrich pinned
his arms.
{You mock me! You know nothing!} Ulrich screamed, spittle flying. {He turned me into a
monster! A terrible accident, he said! And he was sleeping with her the whole time! Was that an
accident? Did he trip and fall into her bed?}
{Yes! Terrible! Clearly a terrible mistake was made!} Megamind gasped. He seemed to have
struck a rather large nerve. Ulrich seemed to be looking at something a long way off. Never before
had the meaning of the word slavering been clearer. He wouldve loved to shove Minions cube
into the brutes face now, all he had to do was catch one of the drips, but it was impossible. His
coat was twisted around him and he could feel the cube digging into his hip. He strained to free
his unravaged arm but it was like trying to lift a steel beam.
Ulrich refocused. One eye narrowed, the bruised eye cracked open a little more. His lip curled into
a sneer at Megaminds struggles. {What are you going to do now, little man? Make a clever
remark? I will teach you. I will...}
With a last desperate heave that sent a fresh shock of pain through his arm, Megamind drove his
knee up as hard as he could.
Ulrich's eyes crossed. He lurched drunkenly to the side, in the classic manner of all male bipeds
who have just received a blow to the groin. Freed from the claws, Megamind scrabbled after the
de-gun, grabbed it and shot the convulsing Ulrich.
The beast-man's pained features disappeared in the the brief burst of blue light.
Ha! Megamind gasped. Thatll teach you! Ha ha ha! He wished he could have come up with
a better comeback, but really, it was taking a bit of effort to not throw up. That breath. He would
never forget that smell as long as he lived.
Incredible. Despite all his speed and power, Ulrich didn't know anything about fighting.
Especially dirty fighting.
Still kneeling, Megamind pulled back the tattered sleeves of coat and shirt. There were three bad
lacerations and a fourth shallower one across his forearm. He was gushing.
He pressed his hand over the wounds. The whole side of his coat was soaked. In fact, he'd better
be careful, or...
There was a great tearing of cloth as his pocket ripped open and then Minion was sitting on him.
Megamind was flattened into the ground.

Getoffgetoffgetoff! Megamind screamed. It took a few distressing seconds for Minion to figure
out what was going on and where the racket was coming from. Then he gasped, pressed his arms
against the ground and heaved himself to the side.
Oh Sir, I'm so sorry! Minion wailed.
Megamind rolled over, sucking in great lung fulls of air. Your next suit, he wheezed. Will
have. FULL TACTILE CAPABILITIES. On every surface.
Minion took in the scene, the blood spattered snow, Megamind clutching his arm.
Did I do that? Minion cried, nearly in tears. Had a jagged edge from one of his broken joints
torn him open?
Megamind shook his head. Ulrich, he said. Slowly he sat up.
Minion looked around, growling and raising his fists. Where is he? Im gonna...
Already taken care of, Megamind said, nodding at the cube. Clearly he did not know who he
was messing with!
Oh. Minion glared at the cube. He might have a private word with Ulrich later.
Minion pulled himself closer, legs dragging. Ever since the fight with Shadow outside Tanaka
Industries Minion carried a first aid kit which he kept in his side panel at all times. He sat next to
Megamind and pulled the kit out, letting it rest on his lap. Hesitantly, he put his arm around his
shoulders who, having run out of bravado, leaned against him. The full shock of the attack was
hitting him. A wave of heat roared through him, smartly followed by a wave of cold. He began to
shake.
No! There was no time to fall apart! To sit here and get all touchy-feely. Yes, maybe the cops
would let them cuddle in the paddy wagon when they hauled them back to the prison! How
touching!
He shrugged Minion's arm off and straightened up, examining the wounds again. Minion's
forehead was crinkled with worry.
That looks pretty bad, Sir, he said. How did he do that? Wolves' claws can't be that sharp, can
they?
He must have been injected with something more than just wolf genes, Megamind said, teeth
chattering. Velociraptor would be my guess.
Minion looked at him in concern. The robot body didnt have full tactile capability yet, but he
could feel Megaminds trembling against his arm. It was making his water vibrate.
Maybe... Minion said, and hesitated. Sir wasn't going to like this suggestion. You need medical
attention. The police will be here soon...
Get that bandage ready, Megamind said, cutting him off. Minion sprayed antiseptic over the
lacerations. He took out the newest addition to the kit, a box of ready made staples of his own
making. Megamind hated needles and Minion knew that if stitches were ever needed that he
would not have enough nerve to take a needle and thread to his masters flesh. Hence the staples.
Made of thin strips of metal with shaped into shallow curves, they should suffice. Awkwardly
Minion pinched the edges of the first wound together with his big fingers and began applying the
staples. Megamind clenched his teeth as Minion clamped the stitches down and the little edges

took hold. Minion had gotten the hang of it now and he quickly finished closing the other
lacerations.
It took every piece of gauze Minion had to make a pad large enough to cover the injury. He
wrapped up the arm. Megamind felt like he had a bunch of pop can tabs strapped to his arm.
Wait a minute, Minion said as an unpleasant thought occurred to him. How did I get rehydrated?
Two possibilities, Minion. Could have been melted snow, Megamind said. A crazed grin split
his face. On the other hand, we could be blood brothers now! Heh. Heh heh hee hee hee. He
began to giggle almost uncontrollably. Minion stared at him, aghast.
From the west side of the woods there was the distant crackle of a police radio, and a brief woof.
Megamind got a hold of himself with great effort. They'd brought their dogs.
Time to go, he said briskly. He used Minion's shoulder to get to his feet.
But Sir, don't you think... Minion said in alarm.
Megamind shot him. Shooting Minion in mid-sentence was incredibly rude, even by his standards,
but there was no time to argue. He wasn't going to let Minion talk him into surrendering. Not for a
mere flesh wound. He stripped off his bloody glove and scrubbed his damp hand against his pants
before gingerly picking up the cube and stowing it in his other coat pocket. He left Ulrich's cube
where it was. He had no real plan for it, but it occurred to him that Ulrich might serve as a
distraction. Plus there was no way in hell he was going to stuff that cube into his pocket. He didn't
need any more accidental re-hydrations.
He hurried around the side of the building and pressed against the wall. The nature center was in
the middle of a wide open space. The woods were to the north, west, and east. South of the
building lay a few spindly trees and open, snow-covered fields. The wind was picking up, and the
fog was dissipating. Headlights shone through the trees surrounding the entrance road. Two
avenues of escape were blocked off.
The breeze was picking up intermittently, and the fog was getting ragged, shifting and dissipating
in great swaths. The nature center was out in the open. He could make a dash for the other side of
the woods, but he would be crossing open ground and his legs were wobbling. He wasn't sure he
could run.
The tires ground slowly against the packed snow. And he had to throw the dogs off the scent.
He stepped out from under the eaves to look at the roof. There were solar panels on this side. The
snow had melted off the roof and it looked fairly dry, for good traction. It looked to be about a 40
degree angle. A single large maple tree was next to the building, and just beyond that, a
maintenance shed. Roof, tree, shed. Would it be enough to throw off the dogs? There was
precious little cover once he got to the shed.
If he kept moving, he might just be able to move from hiding place to hiding place. He fired the
grappling hook gun. He winced at the 'whumpf' it made as the compressed air fired the hook, and
hoped it wasn't audible over the sounds of the cars. They weren't running the sirens anymore. The
hook caught the top of one of the panels on the first try. He wrapped his good arm three times
around with the tether, got a good grip, and pressed the retract switch. The tether was pulled back
into the gun barrel. Smoothly he was lifted off the ground and he used his feet to keep from
banging into the wall. Then up and over the lip of the roof, the tether coiling up with a gentle hiss.

He got hung up on the edge for a second, and he was forced to use both arms to get over it. He
dragged himself onto the roof, stabs of pain shooting all the way up to his jaw.
The roof tilted an extra fifty-five degrees, then abruptly lurched back. He clung to the shingles and
tried not to fall into space. He squeezed his eyes shut and the nausea subsided. There was just
enough room under the solar panels and he crawled under them. He clenched his teeth to keep
them from chattering. His arm was killing him. Even his fingernails were pulsing. Car doors
slammed and radios muttered incoherently.
Hey!
He flinched, but the officers were just hailing the cops that had just emerged from the woods with
their K-9 units. One of them set up a ferocious barking and was reprimanded by its handler.
Geez, did a pig get slaughtered? They were examining the ground.
The nausea subsided. Megamind peered at the arching branches of the maple, calculating distance
to the trunk, trajectory, looking for an opportune place to leap. He couldnt use the grappling gun
now, the noise would be too loud.
The officers were examining the cubes. Megamind's wild shots had dehydrated three chunks of
snow, which lay scattered about the lot. They cast a long shadows in the bright headlights.
Don't nobody touch those cubes, said a voice of command. We don't know what they are.
Spread out and search the...
One of the dogs licked Ulrichs cube.
Ulrich was reconstituted in all his glory.
There was a breathless moment of surprise, and then the dogs went insane.
Normally, K-9 units are highly trained and obedient. But the bizarre scent of man and wolf had
been filling their brains for a long time, mingling with the trail of the suspect they'd been tracking.
None of them had ever smelled wolf before, but something about it set them on edge, giving them
strange urges and sensations, namely the desire to tear apart a close genetic relative. All five dogs
broke their leashes.
Megamind wished he could've seen it. It was even louder then a bunch of screaming girls. It was a
tumult of screams and snarls, and then a dog shrieked as Ulrich struck it and made a run for it. The
yammering pack went flying into the woods after him, followed by the cops, who were no more
able to resist the chase than the dogs.
Megamind listened to the shouts and howls and frantic calling, fading into the east. Carefully he
inched out from under the panels and began to make his way across the roof. He listened to the
four remaining cops tending to the wounded dog, the dogs human partner talking in soothing
tones. He felt a little stronger now, and he should be able to make the jump into the branches. But
if he missed it would be a very noisy fall to the ground. He backed up to prepare to make a
running leap.
Me and Gary better check around, one of the men said. The voice was very close. Megamind
grimaced and hurriedly inched back under the panels.
The officers walked around Megaminds side of the building and ran their flashlights over the
bushes. He lay very still.

We better check inside, one of them said, but they turned at the sound of another vehicle and a
new set of headlights panned across the yard.
A van was coming down a previously unforeseen service road. It pulled up to the building.
Metro City Herald was painted on the side. The driver turned off the engine and got out of the
van.
Where'd you come from? one of the cops demanded.
The driver pointed vaguely down the road. Well, from that way. I just came from Summerville.
What he means, is, his partner broke in. This area is supposed to be all blocked off! How'd you
get in on that road?
The driver shrugged. I always come that way. It's a service road. It wasn't blocked.
The officers exchanged grimaces. We better call it in.
They all walked around a corner of the building. Megamind slipped out again and went to the
edge of the roof. This was a new wrinkle. Maybe even an opportunity. He held onto the edge with
one arm, legs dangling, and let himself drop. He landed in a crouch, then ducked behind one of
the bushes the lined the building. He listened, to see if anyone heard his scrabblings, but no one
had.
The other two cops were carefully laying the wounded dog on a blanket. The driver looked
around at the gory snow. He whistled. You guys on a manhunt?
The youngest cop grinned. Alien hunt. He took a pack of gum out of his pocket and popped a
piece into his mouth.
No kiddin'! the driver said, eyebrows shooting up. Did he kill somebody?
Behind them, Megamind slipped closer behind another handy bush.
We think he got attacked by a werewolf. I seen it.
The driver chuckled and shook his head. Sounds like a headline for the Inquisitor. 'Alien vs.
Werewolf.'
All I know is, some monster just about killed my dog, the K-9 cop said, scolwing at them. The
young cop muttered, Sorry. The driver looked away apologetically.
The fourth cop came back from the car. Okay, the dispatchers gonna get some cars out on that
road. Did you make any stops or see anything suspicious?
The driver shook his head. No. Hey, can I make the delivery now? Itll only take a second.
Okay, make it quick.
They all walked to the back of the van. Megamind watched as the driver swung both doors open
wide and lugged out a small stack of newspapers.
We should take a look inside, just to be on the safe side. That okay with you? the cop asked.
The driver shrugged and kept walking. The cop shone his flashlight around the inside. It contained
a few stacks of papers, slated for neighboring towns.
More people came out of the woods.

More people came out of the woods.

Hey, Sal, we got more company coming.
The cop hopped out of the van and hailed them. Hey! This area is off limits. Geez, he muttered
under his breath. Its like midtown.
Megamind peered cautiously around the corner. The van was parked at a three-quarter angle to
him, and it blocked his view of the men. But it blocked him from their view as well, and the van's
doors were hanging open. Invitingly open. He could see right into it. He crouched lower to look
under the van. He could just make out their feet, walking away across the lot to meet the
newcomers. Someone would probably notice his own feet if he tried to climb into the van now.
A woman floated out of the sky and landed in the lot.
She was quite young and dressed all in pale green from her head down to her feet. A long brown
ponytail hung out the back of her headcovering. She rubbed her hands over her arms and looked
anxiously at the police officers as if she knew she wasnt supposed to be there and was expecting
to get yelled at. Her hunched shoulders and big eyes made her look like a cosplayer who had
taken a wrong turn at comic-con.
What's your business here, miss? Sal asked gently. Are you lost?
Uh, um, I'm with them, she said, gesturing at the seven men who were striding across the lot,
some of them shaking snow out of their pant legs.
Agent Corbin, Department of Paranormal Investigations, the first man said, flashing his
credentials. He addressed the woman. You see anything, Sparkle?
Megamind tensed and pressed a little harder against the wall. Corbin did have a flyer on his team,
after all.
No, it's too foggy, she said.
You search the building yet? And who's that? Corbin said, pointing at the newspaper delivery
guy, who was watching the proceedings with a delighted expression.
The cops couldn't help staring at one of the men, because he was purple. Tall and lean, his face
was gaunt to the point of being as skeletal as you could get while still having skin. He had long
straggly hair and there was a faint purple glow in his eyes. His trench coat hung carelessly open,
almost falling off his coat rack shoulders. A black band with two spots of light encircled his neck.
He noticed the officers staring at him and his lips parted in an evil grin. His teeth were too long. A
few strands of hair lifted off his shoulders as if stricken with an attack of static.
Psycho Delic. one of the agents said sharply.
Corbin turned halfway around to look at the gaunt man. Psycho Delic's too-long teeth disappeared
behind his thin lips and his hair settled over his shoulders again.
Corbin glared at him for a few more seconds before turning back to the cops. Well? Corbin
snapped. Who is that?
Sal shook himself. Paper delivery guy, he said curtly. Getting chewed out by the police
lieutenant was one thing, but getting barked at by some fed was another. He wanted to claim back
a little ground, to show this guy that the Metro City police held this turf. He just wished he had a
few more of his colleagues to back him up.

Corbin stepped very close. You check that van, then? The building?
Yeah, we did, Sal retorted. Well, the van's clean. We havent searched the building yet.
What are your names, officers? Corbin asked. I have reason to believe that your dogs are even
now pursuing one of my specialists. If any harm comes to him, or Megamind gets away because
of it, I'd like to know who to hold responsible.
The officers shifted uneasily, but the K-9 officer stepped forward. Yeah? Well, your specialist
almost gutted Ranger. At the sound of his name, the dog raised his head a little and made a
spirited attempt to wag his tail.
There was a shriek from Sparkle. Psycho Delic stepped away from her, smirking. Megamind took
a chance, and slipped to the van. He slid in swiftly and carefully, so it wouldn't rock as he climbed
in. He curled up behind one of the stacks, heart in his throat, waiting for the outcry that indicated
he'd been spotted.
But for a few crucial moments, all eyes had been on Sparkle.
He touched me! Sparkle said, pointing an accusing finger.
Corbin's face hardened. Sparkle, get in the air. The fog's clearing off some, go over the eastern
woods. Bates, search the building. You four cover the rest of the grounds.
Sparkle, eyes crinkling with unshed tears, took to the air again. A rain of soft green and yellow
sparks fell around her like fairy dust as she ascended. She soared away over the trees.
You, Corbin snapped at the newspaper delivery driver. Get out of here. Take the main
entrance, do not stop for any reason.
I'll call the blockade, let 'em know you're coming, the young cop said to the driver. He
exchanged impassive looks with the other officers. Looked like the feds were taking over. By the
faint barking and yelping in the distance, it sounded like Ulrich had not yet been cornered. It was
probably going to be a while before the other cops made it back.
Corbin crooked an impatient finger and Psycho Delic drifted over to him.
Corbin grabbed the collar around the his neck and pulled him close. Psycho Delic's smirk
wavered.
You listen to me, Corbin said in a low voice. Sparkle is the only flyer I've got, and she can't do
her job if she has to worry about you feeling her up every other minute. If you bother her one
more time, it's back in the box. Got it?
Psycho Delics eyes glowed a brighter red. Corbin tightened his grip. Psycho Delic sucked in a
breath and closed his eyes.
I said, you got that?
Yes, he answered sullenly.
Corbin let go of his collar with a little shove. Go with Bates. Lips tisted, Psycho Delic stepped
back, then turned and stalked over to Bates, who was kicking in the door.
Corbin scowled around at the ground, trying to make sense out of the faint tracks that scattered in
all directions across the hard-packed snow.

The delivery driver slammed the back doors shut, got in, and started the engine. He waved a
jaunty salute at the crowd and went on his way. He went down the main drive and soon arrived at
the police blockade. Answered the same questions, responded that no-he-didn't-stop-anywheresee-or-hear-anything-suspicious-on-the-road, and, because the van had already been searched,
they waved him through.
------------He went south on County Road 20, and brought the van up to speed. He took a drink from his
mug and nearly spat it out when Megamind came over the back of the seat and plunked down
next to him. The van swerved and screeched a little as he yanked on the wheel in his surprise. He
straightened out the van and stared ahead at the road, rigid with terror.
Megamind hissed in a breath through his teeth. Watch it, he snapped. He'd banged the elbow of
his wounded arm on the armrest when the driver had his little conniption. He held the de-gun in
his right hand, pointing it at the driver. Yes, yes, eek, I'm terrifying, oh the horror, just keep
driving, citizen.
The throbbing faded into a dull ache and Megamind relaxed a fraction. It was nice and warm in
the cab of the van. His uncontrollable shivering began to subside. He heaved a sigh of satisfaction.
That was a close one. But the gods of evil must be smiling on me. You came along at just the
right time. He chuckled. What an escape! And right out from under Corbins nose, too! Him, his
cronies, and his super-powered pets. That made it all the sweeter.
But where to? the driver asked, swallowing.
Keep going to 95, then head into Metrocity.
My route, the driver said miserably.
Megamind glared at him. Your insignificant delivery route is of no interest to me. Am I going to
have to leave you by the side of the road? There's a werewolf on the loose, you know. Probably
nursing a bunch of dog bites by now. Very cranky.
I didnt mean...I was just htinking out loud,the driver said hurriedly, looking sideways at
Megaminds blood-soaked bandage that lay on the armrest next to him.
Very good, then. Drive on. He was looking forward to getting back to the lair for some muchneeded rest. Megamind put the de-gun in his lap and felt around in an inner pocket. He located the
reassuring feel of a candy bar wrapper and smiled at the driver. Fear not. Im sure your employer
will understand. Perhaps you can sell your story to the Inquisitor. But when he pulled ithe candy
bar out, he groaned and rolled his eyes.
An energy bar!? Oh, come on, Minion. He must have switched them, he complained to the
driver. He sneered at it. I mean, really, it's covered in carob! As if that's any kind of substitute for
actual chocolate. Do you have anything to eat?
Uh...I got a ham sandwich. But I ate part of it.
Megamind grimaced. Ugh. All right, forget it. He supposed he better eat the utterly inadequate
energy bar. He needed to keep up his strength. He took a bite. It was every bit as dry and wierd
tasting as he imagined and he swallowed it with some difficulty.
His mouth felt like 400-grit sandpaper. He healed very quickly but it came at a price. He could
become dehydrated very quickly too as his body worked to fix its injuries.

Anything to drink? he asked and leaned over to rummage in the little cooler that sat on the floor
between them. Whats this?
The driver glanced at the can that Megamind held. Just an energy drink.
Megamind snorted. Energy bars, energy drinks, you and Minion should compare notes. He
popped the tab. Whats in it? Vitamins and minerals I suppose. He raised it to his lips and began
chugging it. With a name like Zipline, Megamind should have been more cautious and read the
label, but he never read labels anymore. He knew exactly what things like sodium benzoate and
Yellow Dye No. 5 were and did not like being reminded of what he was ingesting.
The driver shrugged. I think theres some herbs in there.
Megamind took another swig. Must be okay, then. Though he scorned all things healthy, hed
unconsciously absorbed a belief from Minion that anything with herbs in it was wholesome and
nourishing.
But I use it for the caffeine, the driver added.
Megamind gagged and some of the drink dribbled back into the can. He looked at the driver.
You use it for the what now? The caffeine, you say? he said weakly.
Well, yeah, the driver said. Whats the problem? He looked at Megamind in alarm. Hey,
youre not going to explode, or anything, are you?
Of course not, Megamind snapped. And Im not going to harvest your organs, or sprout
tentacles, or plant my young in your chest cavity, either, he added nastily.
He patted at his pockets but he seemed to have lost his notebook and writing implement. His
hands were beginning to tremble again. Though there may be some minor difficulties. Got a
pen?

Chapter End Notes

When the USSR was trying to conquer Afghanistan in the 1970s, Russian soldiers in
the field would treat wounds by cutting strips of metal off cans and using them as
staples to close the wounds. This sort of patch job was called a "herring", named after
the most commonly available can and its former contents. I read about this in a book
called "The Tiger" by John Vaillant, a true story about a man-eating Siberian tiger.
It's a fascinating story about the former soldiers who are dedicated to preserving the
tigers and other wildlife of Siberia, but have to make some hard decisions when a

tiger begins hunting people.

In any case, I thought it would be handy for Minion to have some ready-made staples
all set to go in his first-aid kit.

Running
Chapter Notes

"Reading is one form of escape. Running for your life is another." -Lemony Snicket

Megamind marched the newspaper delivery man into the gas station at gunpoint. The attendant
behind the counter put down his magazine, eyes wide. The single mildly drunk customer froze in
the act of reaching for the nacho cheese lever.
Megamind stopped his hostage at the counter and swung the de-gun toward the attendant.
Sudoku, he said, eyelid twitching. Sweat glistened on the blue dome of his head.
The attendant's eyes darted from side to side. The what? he said. That some kind of alien lingo?
he wondered. Megamind looked like he was having some kind of bad trip. What was he on?
Sudoku, you fool! Megamind snapped. I know you have it! The de-gun shook as if it were
possessed.
You know, those math puzzle things, the hostage murmured. Hands locked behind his head, he
did his best to indicate he was unquestionably a hostage, and not an accomplice in any way,
shape, or form, but he felt he could help matters along with a minimum of damage if he intervened
at this point.
What? Megamind demanded, swinging the de-gun over to the hostage again. The blood roaring
through his ears made it difficult to hear.
The driver, whose name was Zach, hunched his shoulders. I was just explaining, he said.
Oh. The de-gun whipped around again. Well? he barked.
Yeah, yeah, right over there with the crosswords, the attendant said, jerking his chin toward the
station's small book section. He'd heard of the Japanese math grids but was not real familiar with it
and in the pressure of the moment he'd not been able to figure out what Megamind was
demanding.
Get a copy of each, all of them, no duplications, Megamind said, and Zach hurried to obey.
Megamind cocked his arm, holding the de-gun by his shoulder, and paced back and forth in front
of the counter, muttering to himself. The attendant stayed very still, but his eyes followed
Megamind's jerky movements. The bandaged arm and torn coat made him look like he'd been
dragged over some rough road.
Did you know you can make your own diamonds with a nuclear fuel rod, a rock tumbler, and
some peanut butter? Megamind announced, unexpectedly leaning over the counter.
Uh, no, no, I did not know that, the attendant said, staring into Megamind's red-rimmed eyes.
It needs some tinkering, Megamind said as he began pacing again. But it just might work.
The customer in the food court raised his hand. Megamind whirled, pointing the de-gun, and the

drunk slurred, He-e-ey, uh, can I finish fixing my nachos?

Megamind blinked and nodded, and the trembling de-gun pointed at the ceiling again. By all
means, he said. Pile on the lactic acid and modified food starches.
Zach stood up with his load of workbooks and cleared his throat in a deferential way. Megamind
jabbed a finger at him. Water bottle, two hot dogs, gummy worms, Cheezy Chips. Now!
Zach looked pleadingly at the attendant. Can I have a bag?
As the van squealed away, the attendant peered out the window to identify it, then reached for the
phone.
The drunk huffed out a breath, shook his head, and started eating.
-------Sudoku after sudoku fell before his merciless onslaught. The crosswords and wuzzles likewise
received no mercy. Megamind blazed through the pages, struggling to force his hyped-up mind to
expend its energy on logic and trivia until he finally gave in to the raging torrent of ideas and
began writing them down.
The interior of the van was littered with partially finished workbooks. Megamind had been
scribbling furiously for nearly an hour. From what Zach could see, he'd moved on from mere math
puzzles and crosswords. He appeared to be writing a thesis. Torn out pages covered the
dashboard, the floor, and Megamind's lap, all covered in incomprehensible cramped words and
numbers.
Zach was sticking to the highway, circling around the city. Whenever he slowed down too much
it brought Megamind out of his reverie with demands to know why.
Megamind groaned and flung the pen against the dashboard, where it clattered to the floor.
Sinking wearily into the chair, he covered his face with his hands. What time is it? he groaned.
Uh... the driver glanced at his watch.
Don't tell me. Two minutes and thirty-one seconds since the last time, Megamind said, voice
muffled.
The driver looked at his watch. 2:34 AM shone back at him, colon blinking gently. Damn, it is, he
thought. He didn't know why Megamind even bothered asking.
He couldn't help wondering where all the cops were. There were generally more of them around
just after the bars closed, especially on the weekend. You'd think the guy at the gas station
would've called them at least!
Megamind heaved a huge sigh and let his hands fall into his lap. It was finally starting to wear off.
The thoughts screaming through his head were beginning to fizzle and fade. His leg started
jiggling again and he hit his fist on his knee to pound it into submission.
The worst part about the caffeine kick was that he couldn't concentrate on anything. He could
process the small amounts of caffeine that occurred naturally in chocolate and a few other foods,
but coffee and soda put him over the edge. Hed never even heard of energy drinks before. The
label on the can of Zipline claimed it had as much caffeine as four espressos. They ought to have
warning labels! It was a good thing he hadnt drunk the whole can or he might have given himself
whiplash.

The math puzzles had provided a good framework for his galloping thoughts for a while, but they
had ultimately proven inadequate, like a picket fence erected against a herd of buffalo. There was
so much! It was too much. His brain leaped from particle physics to lima bean cultivation to ways
to improve the sonic quality of foghorns. For a while there he thought he'd have to re-hydrate
Minion just so he could hold him down.
With the caffeine-fueled mania fading, he felt more in control. Exhausted, but sane.
I've got a headache, Megamind moaned in a little voice.
Zach felt a pang of sympathy. Megamind slumped in his chair, rubbing his temples, a sheen of
sweat making the dome of his head glisten. His domineering presence had filled the van, but now
he looked shrunken and weary. In fact, he reminded Zach of his own little brother the day after the
kid had gotten into their dad's beer. Megamind had the same sort of washed-out rag look.
Drink some more water, man, you'll feel better, Zach said.
Megamind obediently reached down by his feet and picked up the water bottle from among the
debris of wrappers, containers, and wadded up papers that rustled around his boots. He took a
long swig. Yes, that's what he needed. He lowered it again and gazed at Zach with a calculating
look. He wasn't so sure he liked this. It was too much familiarity, too much weakening of their
assigned roles.
Take this exit ramp, he said.
They drove into the downtown area. Megamind ordered him to pull over. Zach felt dread clutch at
his bowels, but he pulled over to the curb. The street was well-lit, and though the bars had closed
a few knots of people lingered, talking and laughing. At the end of the block, two bouncers
dragged a man out of a bar by his ankles and rolled him into the gutter. A group of party goers
shouted out the lyrics of a popular song as they stumbled into an all-night diner across the street.
Leave the van running. Get out.
Zach glanced at him, wondering if Megamind were going to do him in. He wondered what he
could say to plead his case, after all he'd done everything that Megamind had told him to do, he
wasn't going to snuff him, was he?
Megamind slid into the driver's seat and made a small sweeping gesture with the de-gun. Don't
let me detain you any longer, but I shall require the use of your vehicle.
With that, he reached awkwardly across with his unwounded right arm and slammed the door
shut. He looked down and around for the seat adjustment, then ratcheted the seat forward so he
could reach the pedals. About to drive away, he looked out the window and saw that Zach was
still standing rather helplessly in the street.
Megamind rolled down the window. What are you hanging around for? he demanded. There's
no shortage of phones around here.
How'm I... I don't have cab fare... Zach said.
Megamind frowned at him. I'm sure the nice police officers will give you a ride home once you
give them your statement.
Zach shuffled his feet. But what if...if they don't? What if...?

Megamind groaned and dropped his head into his hand. Lips pressed tight in annoyance, he
rummaged in his pockets and found a crumpled fifty dollar bill. Un. Believable, he muttered,
flinging the little wad out the window. Zach caught it with a nervous grin. With a final scowl
Megamind stepped on the accelerator.
Why in the world had he done that? Giving him money? He must still be light-headed from blood
loss.
The people of this city are fools. Sheep. No initiative! 'What about cab fare?' he grumbled,
imitating Zach's voice with a nasal twang. I'm too soft. That's my problem. Glad Minion didn't
see that. Be asking for favors all the time. He shook his head. Hostages.
--------Megamind parked on a side street and peered at his caffeine-fueled notes. He could barely even
read them. Shaking his head he abandoned them along with the van down and got to work
hotwired another vehicle. It was an old VW Rabbit and not in very good shape, but weariness had
lowered his standards. He had few tools; it took an inexcusably long time to get the right wires
connected. The thing coughed and groaned before it consented to start. He turned its nose toward
the lair, left arm twinging and stinging, the lacerations filling his arm with a low-grade burn.
He smiled again as he thought about his fantastic escape, right through the fingers of the cops,
their dogs, the feds, and their super-powered lackeys. His heart rate was back to normal, nothing
to be concerned about, and the tremor in his limbs was gone.
His smile faded as he thought about Tanaka Industries. He was going to give that place his full
attention. No matter how many guards they hired, no matter how many law enforcement
nincompoops they surrounded the place with, no matter how advanced they made their security
system, he'd crack it open like an egg.
With a thud, exhaustion landed on him like a two-ton pillow. His head felt so heavy he could
barely hold it up, and he almost pulled over so he could grab some sleep. Despite his superior
alien physiology the flight through the woods, the shock of Ulrichs attact, and the ravages of the
accidental caffeine ingestion were all taking a toll. But he was nearly home, and there was no need
to spend any more time in the car than necessary. He'd re-hydrate Minion, regale him with the tale
of his spectacular escape from half the law enforcement of the city, and collapse.
He shook his head as he thought about Minion's broken hip joints. It would take hours of work to
get them replaced, the dents worked out of the chassis. Better if the entire lower half were
replaced. It was a major repair job and it would have to wait. Poor Minion would be legless until
he got some rest and could get to work on it. Minion could do quite a lot himself, if it came to that,
but Megamind wasn't going to stand for a lot of banging and welding, not when he wanted to
catch up on some sleep.
His weariness can be the only explanation for his lack of attention. He turned one corner, then
another, and the bright lights flashing off the high walls of the silent warehouses and abandoned
factories made him blink, but just as he was beginning to wonder through the fog that clouded his
thoughts, why there were flashing lights bouncing off the surrounding walls, he made the final
turn. He slammed on the brakes hard, screeching a short way on the damp road, and his mouth fell
open at the sight.
Cops were everywhere. Squad cars lined the street up and down the block. Cops were going in
and out of the lair. HIS lair! Heads turned in his direction.
He flung his right arm over the back of the seat and looked out the back window, hitting the

accelerator, tires squealing. He forced the ancient car into a backspin, clipping a taillight on a
lamppost, then threw it into drive and floored it. Shouts and sirens started up behind him.
He tore down the street, his mind repeating the same useless question over and over again: how,
how, by all that was evil, HOW? How did they find his lair? He was so careful. It drove Minion
nuts sometimes, the way he backtracked and looped and checked repeatedly to make sure that no
one could possibly follow them home. Cops couldn't find their own butts if you gave them a GPS!
How did they do it?
There was no time for speculation. He took the turn onto Sundial Drive on two tires, the Rabbit
groaning and rattling like a hundred tin cans. Part of his fizzing brain tackled the 'how', the rest of
him was focused on 'escape'. He knew these streets blindfolded, which was just as well, because
there were fog banks lingering, and no time to slow down and read street signs. Right, left, left
again, just a few more turns he'd be on the freeway, and just see them try to catch him then! If
only this rattletrap would hold up.
He skidded around onto Gruber Avenue and came screeching to a halt sideways. A semi-truck
was backing out of the Unclaimed Freight Warehouse and blocking the street. He opened the door
and stood on the seat and screamed at the driver.
Hey! Get that crate out of my way!
The driver stared at him, wide-eyed, then quickly scrambled out of the other side of the cab and
was lost to sight.
Typical, Megamind growled. They weren't supposed to run away! The truck almost completely
blocked the way and there wasn't enough room to squeeze the little car around it. The sirens were
deafening. They'd round the corner any second. A bit of distraction might be called for. He took
out the de-gun, flicked the switch to de-stroy, and aimed...
He pulled the gun back. The side of the truck's trailer read Star Propane in big swirly lettering.
He glanced up and down the block, at a few curious faces peeking out of doorways. If he shot the
semi, it would be a very big boom. The whole block could go up.
Damn all these onlookers! He took several steps back from the Rabbit and fired on it, then dived
for the cover of the nearest concrete barricade.
The charge crawled over the doomed car. People hadn't missed his leap and someone shouted
Get back! Then it exploded, pieces of shrapnel flying.
He shoved the de-gun into his pocket and dashed up the nearest steps, into the gloom of the
warehouse. Behind him the Rabbit's gas tank belatedly ignited, sending a little fireball skyward.
The roar and the red glare illuminated the floor and several surprised employees. A man with a fire
extinguisher almost ran into him but no one tried to stop him and he pushed through the exit door
into the opposite street. He needed another car, fast. No time to hotwire another one, he'd have to
perform a spot of carjacking.
He plunged his hand into his pocket as he leaped down the steps.
It all happened at once. As he grabbed the de-gun, his heel hit the ice and skidded out from under
him. He flung his arm out, his pocket turned inside out, the de-gun cracked against the iron
handrail. Minion's cube came sailing out. It bounced onto the sidewalk, and he lunged after it with
a wordless cry. It fell glittering through the air, off the curb, and clattered into the storm drain.
He fell against the curb, shoving his hand into the darkness of the grating. He could hear the

tinkling of water and Minion's puzzled voice cam echoing out. Oh no! Now what's going on?
The world's coming to an end! Megamind screamed. You're in the sewer! My glorious escape!
I got out of that accursed nature preserve in a delivery van and thumbed Corbin's nose and drank
caffeine and performed mental feats the like of which will not be seen again and stole a Rabbit and
they found the lair, Minion! They found the lair! They're after me!
What? A rabbit? Minion thought confusedly. If Sir really had ingested caffeine there was
undoubtedly some loopy sort of logic in there somewhere, but there was no mistaking the howl of
the sirens.
Okay, let's stay calm, Sir, Minion said. He extended his arms until he was able to grab hold of
the metal grate. He concentrated, gripping them with all his considerable strength, and the bars
began a slow ponderous creaking, but they were solid heavy things and set deep in the concrete.
He managed to force his broken limbs into a slightly better position and tried again. He should be
able to pry them off, but it would take a while.
Megamind strode up and down the sidewalk. Someone opened the door at the top of the steps. He
whirled and they swiftly ducked back inside with a slam.
It's taking too long! he snapped. Get back, I'm going to destroy the grating. Then you can pull
yourself out and I'll dehydrate you again. Minion's hands disappeared from view and a scraping
sound floated up as he dragged himself a little further away from the blast zone.
Megamind aimed and pulled the trigger. A single thread of energy made a graceful little arc over
the gun barrel and dissipated with a fzzt.
Fzzt?! It wasn't supposed to go fzzt! Perplexed, Megamind looked at the de-gun.
Minion, he squeaked. Minion, the coupler that attaches the BINKEY to the nozzle has
snapped!
Minion gasped. Well, can't you fix it?
Sure! Just give me ten minutes and a solder gun it'll be good as new! Except I have neither!
Megamind shouted. You wouldn't happen to have either of those things on you, by any chance?
The sky over the back of the warehouse was glowing red with the fire from the stricken car and
several bonus fires were spreading as the burning debris attempted to ignite the nearest buildings.
Over the crackle of the fire were the sirens. A squad car came around the far corner.
Rattled, Megamind made a brief dash up and down the sidewalk. He needed a crowbar. No, wait,
a chain, then attach it to that truck... no, wait, there wasnt time for that, he needed to find a
winch... or he could get some dynamite, then... but there werent any demolition sites nearby...
dang it, there was never a T-700 Pavement Chewer around when you needed one!
Sir, run! Minion shouted at him. I'll hide! You lose 'em, then come back for me. All right? I
said all RIGHT? Megamind goggled at him, looked around at the street, the oncoming car.
Minion sucked in a big breath of water.
GO! he roared. Megamind jumped, then turned and ran.
Minion's shout had jolted him awake. There was only one clear path and he took it.
He sprinted down the street, heading for Cooper Street and its network of alleys. On this street the
buildings were so close together there wasn't even room for a rat to squeeze between them.

Another squad car came screaming around the corner and drove right up on the sidewalk in front
of him, but he barely even slowed down. On waves of adrenaline and the last vestiges of caffeine
in his system he hurtled over the hood like a pole vaulter. He ran on.
Another squad car roared around the corner and he almost got creamed, bouncing over the trunk,
banging his side, and landing on stumbling legs. The driver's door opened and a police officer,
face tense with determination, lunged at him. His feet propelled him forward but a big hand
grabbed the flying hood of his coat. Immediately he flung his arms up and slipped out the bottom.
The cop, suddenly grasping a coat full of air, tripped over him and fell heavily. His knee caught a
blow against Megamind's ribs but he barely noticed as he scrambled to his feet and sprang away.
He rounded the corner onto Cooper, voices shouting at him to stop, to freeze, to hold it right there.
Fat chance! he thought fiercely and ducked into the first of the many alleyways that would lead to
still more alleys and backlots, and leave those bumbling cops in the dust. Or the fog, as it were.
Past old crates and abandoned cars, feet breaking the crust of knee-deep dirty snow. Up onto a
stack of crumbling pallets and he swung over a wooden fence. Sometimes he splashed through
puddles or skidded on ice. Soon he'd be on Winslow, where there was a certain amount of traffic,
he'd take someones car, no one needed to know the de-gun was broken, he could still threaten...
He touched the empty holster.
He stopped short, panting, and put a hand against the bricks to steady himself. The de-gun was in
his coat pocket, back there in the hands of his enemies!
Rrrrrrrrargh! he said through gritted teeth and banged his head on the wall. The sound of
hurrying footsteps grew louder in his ears. No time for self-recrimination. He began running again.
First Minion, now the de-gun! His most precious assets, lost.
He would get them back. But first he would lose these meddlesome cops.
Grimly he ran on, sucking cold air into his burning lungs, keeping the pendulum motion of his
arms and legs going. He leaned forward to let gravity help pull him along. It was getting harder
and harder to raise each foot and knee and put each limb through its full range of motion, but he
kept at it.
Damn it! The alley he meant to take was hip deep in snow. He forced himself on to the next
backlot, the next alley. He darted into the next alley which still had a bit of a fog bank meandering
through it.
This alley had a 25 foot wall running across it. Most of the snow was gone here, and the
remaining ice was pocked. He aimed at a pipe at the top of the wall and fired the grappling hook
gun. It missed, the hook clunking against the wall and nearly falling on his head. Lips pressed
tight he hit the retract button, reeled in the line, aimed again...
Freeze!
...and fired again. This time the hook went twice around the pipe and held fast. Pressing the button
he held on and sailed upward. Hands grabbed at his boots but he kicked and was free again. The
cop grunted and fell back.
He was up on top of the wall when there was a burst of gunfire. He didn't quite remember falling,
just a brief sickening sensation of weightlessness, and then he was lying on a pile of garbage bags
on the other side of the wall, screaming.
No, wait, he wasn't screaming. He blinked in confusion at his surroundings, patted himself down

in a frantic sort of inventory. No, he hadn't been shot. All the noise was coming from the other
side of the wall.
There was a definite female component to the screaming, though it rapidly devolved into the most
colorful swearing he'd encountered since leaving the prison. It sounded like every cop in existence
was on the other side of the wall and they were all shouting.
You shot her!
You shot my ARM you mother...
All this fog, you open FIRE?! You knew we were in here!
Oh my God Sally, I'm so sorry! I'm sorry!
Don't be sorry, you moron, call an ambulance!
Officer down, request immediate assistance!
Megamind slid very quietly off the pile of garbage bags, wincing, and tiptoed to the end of the
alley, with one last regretful look at the grappling hook gun, still hanging from the pipe at the top
of the wall. Another asset lost.
Perfect, he thought. They couldn't have done him a favor and specified that said officer was down
because of her colleague's stupidity, could they? Because that would be just too easy. He
imagined it would go pretty hard on him now if he got caught. Officer shot. He could practically
feel a target growing on his back. Word would spread. Cops got really serious when one of their
own got injured.
But he wouldn't get caught. No way. He began to run again, a light jog. Across the street, take a
left, over the chain link fence, across the backlot, another street, alley, streHe was blinded by the headlights of the oncoming tanker truck, its horn blaring, all eighteen
wheels screeching. Moving limbs that were way too slow, he propelled forward. The truck
jackknifed, skidded down the street, crushed a lamppost and stopped short against a set of stairs.
Megamind plastered himself against the alley wall, heart pounding at approximately 50,000 beats
per second. When he felt reasonably sure he wasn't having a heart attack he peered around the
corner to look at the damage. A car pulled over and a man came out to offer his arm to the driver
was jerkily climbing out of the cab. A dark fluid leaking out of the tanker oozed slowly onto the
street, filling the air with the scent of... gingerbread? Molasses, Megamind thought. It must have
been en route to the bread factory. Now that he was at rest, he could smell bread baking.
Megamind went on his way, legs wobbling. Every joint felt loose and his wounded arm throbbed
in protest at all the jostling. The two-ton pillow settled around his head again, making him want to
find a nice hole in which to curl up and go to sleep.
More sirens split the air, either looking for him or rushing to the scene of the latest disaster, it
hardly mattered. He couldn't keep this up much longer, galloping up and down these wasted
avenues. He passed a few cars and trucks, but he didn't bother to break into any of them. He had
no tools left to assist him in hotwiring. He could hotwire a vehicle without tools, but it would take
time, of which he had next to none.
He paused to take stock of his surroundings. There was the cabinet manufacturing workshop on
the other end of the alley, away from the crashed tanker, blazing with lights, the big double doors
wide open. The sounds of table saws and other heavy machinery wafted out into the night.

He could keep running until he dropped, or he could disappear. He considered the angles.
Misdirection. Give them something to look at, to send them on another path.
He knew the layout of this workshop as he'd slipped in a few times to use the facilities, though he
hadn't stolen anything. No sense in committing crimes so close to his place of residence.
He had to make certain the cops saw him enter. That was essential. He paced up and down,
waiting for the sirens to get closer. From the way the sky was blazing, more than one building had
caught fire from the exploded Rabbit. The lack of further explosions indicated that the propane
tank was still intact.
He was beginning to wonder whether it wouldn't be smarter to hotwire a vehicle after all, the cops
certainly seemed to be taking their own sweet time, when a squad car came blaring around the
corner. He dashed out in full view, across to the open doors, and ran in, into the workshop, past
the staring men and women in safety goggles looking up from their stations. He ran up the stairs to
the walkway overlooking the shop, and the short row of offices.
The police officers entered the building, Detective Buford bringing up the rear. He was rapidly
getting out of breath and he waved the younger guys ahead. They'd spotted the black-clad, blueheaded figure duck into a room upstairs.
Buford labored up the steps.
Locked himself in, one of them told him. The officers had arrayed themselves along the
walkway, guns ready. Word was the alien boy was armed. A certain grim tone had strengthened
the cops' resolve when they heard that Officer Griffin had been shot. Buford would have to make
sure things didn't get out of hand when they caught the boy.
He was about to inform Megamind that surrender was a much more viable option than a shootout, when there was a loud crash from inside. He nodded and the officer closest to the door kicked
it in. It didn't take more than two kicks to tear the flimsy particle board out of its frame.
They poured into the office. Cold and mist drifted in through the smashed window. Buford ran to
the hole and looked down. A swivel chair lay amid dirty snow and broken shards of glass, two
stories down. No one was in sight.
Outside! Now! he ordered, and they all hurried out again. Out the back!
Feet pounded across the walkway and down the steps. The dust settled and it became quiet,
except for the fading sounds of hot pursuit.
Megamind crawled out from under the desk. They would be back in a matter of seconds to search
the building.
He slipped out of the office, crouching low and creeping along the wall so no one below on the
main floor would spot him. Going down the steps to the employee break room, he looked over the
coats and bags and purses hanging on hooks and crammed onto shelves.
He pulled on a roomy leather jacket, glanced around, and seized a blanket from another hook and
threw the blanket over his head like a granny shawl. This was no time for pride. He took another
quick look at the blanket, which was bright yellow and had pink roses on it. Geez, it really was a
shawl, with fringe. He left the break room, heading for the main floor.
The machines had mostly been turned off, as the employees were milling around in excited little
groups. Pallets and stacks of lumber and the empty shells of cabinets and boxes of tools and

hinges ran down most of the length of the main floor underneath the walkway. That was his route,
walking along the wall behind the pallets and lumber, in the darkness under the walkway. In the
gaps he kept an eye on the knots of people chattering. He kept his head high and his gait steady
and no one seemed to notice him. Walking like you had every right to be there was the key. Start
running and pretty soon everyone's looking at you, wondering why you're running.
He went right out the front door, keeping his face down so he'd get the benefit from the shadow of
his impromptu hood, and started down the walk. Having lost his gloves he shoved his hands in his
pockets. People were standing around the entrance, too. He walked by them all and headed down
the sidewalk. The few cops milling around were joined by several more cops that came around the
corner. He stepped out of their line of sight, so that a group of employees was between him and
the cops.
Close all exits, front and back, ordered the fat one in plain clothes. Get everyone out of the
building.
No one was expecting him to be wandering through the crowd. His disguise would not survive
more than casual scrutiny and he continued on his way, boots carrying him steadily along. The
chaos of the search grew fainter. Almost there. Just a few more steps. Every muscle was tight with
tension and excitement. His blood sang with the sheer thrill of it all.
There were no shouts, no cries of Hold it right there! It was working. He could hardly believe it
was working.
He strolled around the corner and gasped. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding his breath.
His legs nearly gave out with relief, but he continued to lurch forward, disappearing into the
labyrinth of streets, mouth curling into an insane smile. What an escape! He'd given the cops the
slip twice in one night. Wait'll he told Minion.
His smile faded. It looked like he would become intimately familiar with the city's sewer system
after all. He hoped that Minion hadn't been seen by anyone, though he supposed his shouting
down into the grate hadn't gone unnoticed. He had to hope that Minion had been able to hide. His
pace quickened and he almost started running again. No, he had to slow down. Running drew the
eye. A cop car could be lurking anywhere.
How was he going to find him? Should he locate a map of the sewers? But he didn't want to
waste time going around the city hall or wherever it was they kept such things, trying to find a
map. What if Minion's heater gave out again? The thought almost sent him into a run again, but he
squelched it. Even if it broke right this minute, the weather was mild and it would be a while
before Minion experienced any deleterious effects from the cold.
The sewers must run parallel with the streets, at least part of the time. He would get as close as he
could to the Unclaimed Freight Warehouse, find a crowbar, and get in through a manhole. But
how was he going to get Minion out of there? A winch and a trolley? His gloom deepened when
he thought of the lost de-gun. He had to figure out how to get that back, too, which meant
breaking into the police station.
A sudden gust of wind sent the fringe of the shawl fluttering.
Startled, he looked up and gasped at the soaring figure that was turning and diving out of the sky.
Megamind began to run even though it was pointless, he couldn't possibly hope to outrun HIM
but he couldn't help it, and when Metro Man grabbed the back of his stolen jacket and lifted him
off his feet he screamed in pure fury.
AAAAAAAAARGH, you big stupid lumbering ox! You dim-witted, mouth-breathing, simple-

minded troglodyte! he screamed. I just waltzed right by those brain dead cops! You know how
many times I gave those morons the slip tonight? And here you come flitting by like some over
muscled guardian angel fresh from the hairdresser! That escape was perfect! Brilliant! So
unbelievably fantastic that those cops will never live it down. Do you hear me, Super-Ears? You
RUINED it! He stopped, panting with rage.
Metro Man wore a bemused grin. That was a heck of a speech. He'd never been harangued like
this before. Crooks were usually pretty cowed by the time he caught up with them. Something
about the way he shook them out of their getaway cars tended to take the fight out of them.
Megamind dangled from his hand like a dilapidated laundry bag. The cheery shawl had fallen
down around his shoulders. The jacket dug into his armpits, bringing his shoulders almost up to
his ears, and the zipper was uncomfortably close to his throat. He tugged at it to give himself a
little more breathing room. He tried to cross his arms over his chest but his wounded arm twanged
sharply and he settled for resting one arm atop the other and held his elbows.
So how did you know it was me? he demanded, swinging gently. You used your X-ray vision
to look through my clothes, didn't you, you pervert.
Just your shawl. And a lovely one it is, too, Metro Man said, chuckling and tugging at the
fringe. Megamind smacked at the offensive hand. Ow, he hissed, and grabbed his stinging
fingers.
Besides, Wayne continued, you were the only one walking away from all the ruckus.
Everybody else is trying to put out the fires, looking at the wrecked truck, or running around that
workshop.
Aren't you the clever one. A real junior detective. It was this brilliant disguise that enabled me to
make my escape, Megamind snapped. What's so funny? he demanded. Wayne was chuckling
again.
You are, he said cheerfully. You are a lot mouthier than I remember. It's always the quiet ones.
You hardly talked in school. Must have been all that time in the corner. So what happened to
you? he asked, gesturing at the bandage that peeked out from his left sleeve.
Megamind sniffed and lifted his chin. Only a titanic life-or-death struggle with a ferocious beastman, if you must know.
Metro Man shook his head in sympathy. Took a beating, huh?
No, I won! Sent him packing! Megamind said, bristling.
For the first time Megamind realized that Wayne was dressed entirely in white, with a cape
hanging from his airplane-sized shoulders. What the hell are you wearing?
My uniform, Wayne said brightly. Whaddaya think?
Uniform?! Lip curled, Megamind looked him up and down. A double row of gold buttons
marched up the white shirt. In the muted street lights, gold gleamed off the belt buckle and the
heavy trim of the cape.
I think all you need is a dorky little cap and you'll be all set for carrying luggage at the Plaza, he
said.
Now be nice, Metro Man said with a mock scowl. I got Minion out of that sewer for you. The
two of you will be sharing a cell again in no time.

Megamind's face grew somber. They'd both been captured. He felt bad about that. He would've
had to inform someone of Minion's whereabouts in any case so he could be rescued, but it still felt
like failure.
Metro Man's mighty brows furrowed. Hey. Did you really spray paint our house?
What gave it away? The signature? Megamind said, smirking. I suppose you had to find
someone to read it to you. What, you don't like the color scheme I chose?
Metro Man lifted him higher and bent his elbow so they were almost nose to nose. Megamind
maintained the sneer with some effort. Was there a glint of laser red in those eyes?
That was way out of line, Metro Man said quietly. It upset my mom. If you got a problem with
me, you tell it to my face. Leave my parents out of it. Stay away from our house. He jabbed
Megamind's chest with a massive finger.
Megamind swallowed. Yes, certainly, no problem. Don't want to upset your mother, he said.
Poor woman has enough to deal with, I'm sure, he added in a mutter.
Metro Man's face brightened and the thunder clouds dissipated. Great Glad we got that
settled.Not like it matters that much, you won't be escaping again! You ready to face up to your
crooked deeds?
I've hardly begun to ...AAAAAAHHH! Megamind's voice became a scream as Metro Man
shot into the sky. He automatically grabbed at the beefy arm that was all that kept him from
becoming a chalk outline on the street hurtling below. WAY below.
And so it was in this undignified manner that he took his first flight, and landed amongst the police
officers and excited onlookers from the workshop and other nearby businesses. There was
laughter and congratulations all round for Metro Man.
That's my shawl! a voice called, and the crowd parted to let a gray haired woman approach the
hero. Metro Man yanked the shawl off Megamind's shoulders, making him suck in his breath at
the burn, and graciously handed it to her. The woman held it in her arms like a precious article.
Thank you, Metro Man, she said, eyes shining. She turned a glare on Megamind, still dangling
from his hand like a sullen fish. He stuck out his tongue. She sniffed and walked away.
And that's my jacket, a portly man said, pushing forward. Metro Man looked at his captive and
set him on the ground with a raised eyebrow. Megamind sighed and rolled his eyes. He unzipped
the jacket, shrugged it off, and tossed it to its rightful owner.
The man caught it, holding it at arm's length, looking askance at it.
Megamind narrowed his eyes. Better wash it, he snapped. Wouldn't want to get die-zeased!
The police moved in to seize him. Your skin will turn blue and your head will swell up like a
balloon! Disinfect it! With bleach! In fact, why don't you burn it, you...OW! I'm injured, you
pinheads! They hustled him through the crowd and shoved him against the nearest squad car to
frisk him.
Metro Man motioned briefly to one of the officers and leaned over to talk with him. The man
looked at him with a puzzled grin.
The hero glanced around furtively. Do you know what a troglodyte is?

The officer frowned, puzzled. A what?

Never mind, forget I asked, it's not important, Metro Man said, hurriedly straightening again.
He'd better look it up when he got home. He hoped it was easy to spell. I'm going to go assist our
brave firefighters. Keep up the good work, officers! To the chorus of cheers and good-byes, the
young hero took to the sky.
This is police brutality, Megamind said, while they emptied his pockets. Can't you see the
bandage? You must be blind as well as stupid. I've got your badge number, officer. MC74040889. He craned his neck to look at the next nearest cop. And yours!
You have the right to remain silent, said the second officer.
Or what, will I get in even more trouble? said Megamind. I'm not through yet!
Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law.
Yeah? I'd actually get to see a courtroom then? Ha! That'll be a first.
You have the right to an attorney. If you can't afford one then one will be provided, sighed the
cop, wishing Megamind would exercise the first right.
My legal guardian's got a lawyer, all right. He's the warden you know. He grimaced as the cop
pulled his hands behind his back, snapped the cuffs on his wrists, and allowed him to turn around.
Megamind glared around at the cops. I'll sue you so bad that your grandchildren will be
destitute... The words faded as the blood congealed in his veins.
Agent Corbin stood on the damp pavement, with three more agents behind him. He gave
Megamind a thin smile, then ran his gaze over the assembled ranks of police.
Thank you, gentlemen. And lady, he said, giving a condescending nod to the lone female
officer present. The U.S. government appreciates your hard work in apprehending this dangerous
fugitive. I'll take it from here.

Out of the Frying Pan

Detective!
Hold on a second, Detective Buford said into the radio. What is it?
The young officer jerked his head toward the little crowd by car 38. Buford noticed that they still
hadn't put Megamind in the back, but were talking to some men in black trench coats.
They're trying to take our perp, Detective! he said indignantly.
Buford's lips tightened in annoyance. Corbin, pushing his way in.
Just hold on, he said and lifted the radio to his mouth again. Quit looking for the gun. It was
friendly fire. Griffin was shot by Landry. And get Landry's gun and badge while you're at it. He's
suspended, as of now. I'm kicking him back to the academy!
There was a sigh and a muffled sound of agreement on the other end. Buford put the handset back
in place in the squad car and strode over to the men in black.
It's our collar, Buford declared. Me and Officer Fleet here found the lair. Police chased him
down. We are in custody.
Corbin's eyes flickered over to Megamind, then back to Buford.
It's not first come, first served, Detective, he said. His crimes and his unique status place him
squarely under the jurisdiction of the federal government.
Megamind cleared his throat. I would like to exercise my right to a phone call immediately.
Not now, Buford said. You can make your call at the station.
At the federal building, Corbin said with a hard look.
But he has a cell phone, Megamind said, jerking his chin toward Officer Howard. He was
talking to Sherry. He just put it away.
No, I wasn't! Howard said, guiltily putting his hand over his pocket, ears turning pink.
Buford glared at him. No personal calls while on duty, he snapped. One more time and I'm
taking it.
Please? Megamind said, leaning forward, eyes big. Buford noticed that the alien boy had gotten
a lot more deferential. From haranguing everyone in sight, now he was practically a lamb. Buford
was not thrilled that the feds had shown up, but it sure took the wind out of Megamind's sails. It
never changes, he thought. Soon as a punk gets in over his head, suddenly he needs mommy and
daddy. I really need to make a phone call right now!
Or else what, you're gonna sue me, too? Buford said dryly.
Eh heh heh. Oh, that, Megamind said, with a nervous chuckle. Oh no, not at all. I'm sure you
will be handsomely rewarded for delivering me into my guardian's hands.

You'll get your phone call, Buford said. Just keep your shirt on.
Puzzled, Megamind looked down. His black silk shirt stuck to parts of his torso with sweat,
melted snow, and an unknown substance from a garbage bag. His snappy collar was half up, half
down, a shirt tail had come loose, and it would take a squadron of irons to get it looking decent
again, not to mention a new sleeve.
I wouldn't mind changing, I guess, but why would I take it off out here? he said, frowning. It's
kind of cold. Besides, my hands are cuffed. How...
Would you forget the shirt? Corbin snapped. He turned to Buford. When it comes to national
security, federal law takes precedence.
A few burglaries and car thefts are hardly a matter of national security, Agent Corbin.
I beg to differ. Kidnapping and stealing cars at gunpoint are federal offenses, Corbin said. And
Megamind's unique status as an alien, and an illegal at that, places him squarely under federal
jurisdiction.
An illegal... Buford glanced at the boy. Yeah, an illegal alien all right. No papers, no
citizenship...but hadn't John Parker taken care of some of that? Had him declared a refugee or
something?
Corbin smiled, like a kindly professor giving instruction to a fumbling pupil. It's not like there's
any way for us to deport him, is there? Where would we send him? He turned to Megamind and
looked down his nose at him. He's also wanted in suspicion of a number of bombings, including
his involvement with the attempted destruction of the U.S. embassy in Paris five years ago.
Megamind's mouth fell open.
Buford frowned a little. I don't remember that.
The People's Liberation Front for the Formation of a Free Burgundy claimed responsibility,
Corbin said.
Wait a minute, Buford said, raising a finger. You mean... those two jokers who left a pipe
bomb at the gates, shouted 'Vive Baloney,' and escaped on a motor scooter? It didn't even go off!
And weren't they caught at the first intersection?
'Vive le Bourgogne', I think it was, said Corbin. They were resentful that the U.S. refused to
acknowledge their sovereignty. Like I said, it's only one of the cases where he is suspected of
being involved.
I was ten! Megamind cried. I was in prison!
One of the Burgundians visited the U.S. during the time frame in question, and the bomb carried
certain hallmarks which resemble devices that you have made in the past, Corbin said calmly.
You've been responsible for eight explosions at the prison. It's all documented.
Yes, eight successful explosions! Megamind said with some pride, then stopped, as he realized
that his protest was not exactly helping his case. But I never met any of these French twits!
An attack on an embassy is an attack on our nation, Corbin said sternly. Megamind was amazed
that he could keep a straight face.
Detective, Lieutenant Foster is on the line, an officer announced, holding out a cell phone.

It's about time! Buford said. Isn't he out of the woods yet?
He's calling from the hospital. He got bit.
Buford sighed. Hold on, he said to Corbin and turned away to take the call.
Megamind's eyes darted from Agent Corbin's smug face to Buford, to the other police officers.
The cops looked disgruntled but resigned, as if his deliverance into Corbin's hands was already a
done deal.
I can't believe this, he thought. His lungs felt like they were operating at about fifty percent
capacity, due to the iron bands slowly tightening around his chest. They're going to turn me over
to this maniac.
Detective, I have to talk to you, he said. He stepped toward Buford but one of the cops grabbed
his shoulder and pulled him back. Buford scowled at him, then walked away a little more and put
his finger in his ear so he could hear the lieutenant better. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Well, how long is
that going to take?
I'm getting framed. Megamind looked from one impersonal face to another. The cops didn't roll
their eyes or sigh, but their faces took on that special look that generally appeared whenever
someone tried a variation of the old I didn't do it theme. It was a look that Megamind had often
seen on the faces of the prison guards. Corbin's not who you think. He's...
We already have the other one in custody, Corbin said, nodding back over his shoulder.
Megamind looked past him.
Down the block, a large granite-faced man stood next to an unmarked gray sedan, holding the
containment unit in one arm. Minion's wide eyes seemed to fill the bowl.
Megamind's breath caught in his throat.
I had my men take the robot suit away. Sure makes him a lot easier to handle, said Corbin. He
cocked his head to one side. What do you think that bowl's made of? Some kind of weird spaceage stuff. It's not glass, or plastic. He looked at Megamind and raised his eyebrows. Do you
think it's bulletproof?
Prick, Megamind thought, glowering at him.
Buford shut the cell phone with a sigh and handed it back to the officer. What? Oh. I don't know
if it is or not. How should I know?
That nice boy Wayne...no, wait, Metro Man, right?... lasered a hole right through the street and
pulled him out for us, said Corbin.
Buford's demeanor changed to that of a proud uncle. Ain't he somethin'? He's been a real big
help to the force. Good for the city, too.
I'm sure he is, Corbin nodded.
There's been talk of deputizing him, Buford said.
He deserves it. It's been a pleasure talking with you, Detective, said Corbin. You and your
officers will receive full credit for the arrest, count on it.
Better have a doctor look at that arm, Buford said, pointing at Megamind's bandage.

I'll be sure to have someone take a look at it, said Corbin.

Yeah, the head torturer, Megamind thought bitterly.
Corbin made a show of taking a firm grip on Megamind's uninjured upper arm and steered him
down the street. The other three agents silently fell into step behind them.
Corbin's footsteps sounded heavily in Megamind's ears. The police radios, the talk of people
beginning to go back to their routines, the voices of the cops taking statements, it all began to seem
very far away. A few craned their necks to gawk at them as they passed, but already curiosity was
waning. All the excitement was over.
Guess there's more than one way to skin a fox, Corbin murmured.
Think of that one all by yourself or did you have help? Megamind muttered, automatically
falling back on sarcasm, but his heart wasn't really in it. The gray sedan and Granite Face and
Minion grew closer.
You are so very lucky you're worth more alive, said Corbin.
They were almost at the car. Minion crouched in his bowl, fronds drooping with despair.
Seizure! Even Corbin wouldn't drag him away if he fell down foaming at the mouth. Well,
actually Corbin probably would, but not in front of all these people, especially the cops. They had
to call an ambulance! And then, and then, he could...call out for Minion in a pitiful voice, because
hey, he was an alien, right, and he needed to be in physical contact with Minion in order to
survive...
Oh God, that was so stupid, it had to be the most idiotic plan in the history of the universe, there
was no guarantee they'd even listen to his pathetic plea, especially since he'd been galloping
around away from Minion's side for the past half hour, but he had to try, and hope like hell they'd
bring Minion along in the ambulance. If he could get them both away from Corbin for even a few
minutes he could find a way to get a hold of the warden, his one remaining life line. He'd throw
himself on the old man's mercy. A month's worth of solitary confinement was looking pretty good
right now. A year's worth.
He began working his jaw. How did you start foaming? Could people even talk if they were
having seizures?
The grip on his arm became crushingly tight.
Don't even think about it, little boy, Corbin hissed in his ear. I know all the tricks. Get in that
car quietly, without making a scene, or else Bates is going to find out if your little friend can
dodge a bullet. At the most, he would get a lecture for being cruel to animals. You hear me?
Bates could shoot Minion, and people would tut-tut and shake their heads and frown, and say oh
that was not nice, and Bates would get a slap on the wrist. He would get away with murder, in
plain sight.
Megamind swallowed the saliva build-up.
You send Psycho Delic home? Corbin asked Bates.
Granite Face nodded. Yeah, too many women around, man. Ross took him back. Besides, you
want him awake, right? He pointed at Megamind.

Absolutely, Corbin said, grinning, and put Megamind in the back of the car.
-------------The sedan stopped on the edge of the industrial zone. From here, Megamind could still see the dim
red haze of the fire against the clouds, but the noise and activity surrounding the chaos was barely
audible. They might as well have been in another city.
Bates stopped the car in the back of a long row of darkened buildings. A twenty foot high stack of
twisted metal and skeletal cars lay on one end of the lot, partly covered by old drifts of snow.
Good enough, said Corbin, and got out. Bates got out too, leaving Minion in the front seat.
Megamind could feel his internal organs shriveling.
They weren't going to shoot him, were they? It would be terribly suspicious, wouldn't it, for his
corpse to turn up in some dumpster so soon after the feds carted him away? What if all that 'you're
worth more alive' stuff had been just a way to get him to come quietly?
A cold, vicious thought arose in the back of his mind and quickly forced its way to the front. All
Corbin had to say was that Megamind was shot while trying to escape. The warden would
squawk and file a complaint, but Megamind would be past caring by then.
The other car pulled to a stop and the other agents wandered out, casually forming a loose circle
around the lot.
But he suspected that Corbin wouldn't do that. Not yet at least.It would end the fun too quickly.
Corbin opened the back door. Out.He gave him no chance to obey, but grabbed him by the shirt
and yanked him out and slammed the door. Staggering, hands cuffed behind his back, Megamind
had to twist his shoulders and take several quick steps to keep from falling.
It certainly resembled an arena. Buildings surrounded them on three sides. A pile of skeletal cars
and twisted metal lay in a heap on one end of the lot, partially covered with snow. Only a couple
of dim street lights provided some sickly illumination. The cars' headlights were stronger.
Bates put a hand on his shoulder while Corbin walked around him, his feet crunching the gravel.
He flinched when Corbin grabbed his chin between thumb and forefinger.
Why so jumpy? Corbin chuckled, lifting Megamind's head and moving it from side to side.
Megamind silently vowed he would not flinch again, even if Corbin held a flamethrower to his
head.
Look at this, Bates. I cut him right here. There's no scar, not even a little one. That is incredible.
Bates leaned over to take a look, and grunted. Hm. Could be worth somethin' then.
It could indeed. What do the lab guys call it? Corbin said, tilting Megamind's head to look him
in the eye. When they use a critter for samples? Tissue donor?
Megamind glared at him. Corbin let go of his chin with a hard pinch.
Awful quiet, he said. You lose your voice?
It's patently obvious this is all merely a pretext, an excuse to belittle and humiliate me, so I don't
see why I should even bother, Megamind said hotly. As if it's going to make any difference

whether I say anything or not! It's not like I need to hear the sound of my own voice, unlike
certain others I could mention.
Corbin took a few slow steps back and forth.
It's hardly worth it to bandy words about with some upstart from an obscure federal agency
who's always last on the scene and has to depend on the police and that flying boy scout to do his
dirty work for him, Megamind said. Nerves tighter than bowstrings, he couldn't stop himself if he
tried. You're obviously out for rev-ahnge. Whether I answer you tiresome questions or not is
beside the point, since clearly you mean to harm me no matter what I say so I don't see why-- -
Corbin struck fast, grabbing his injured arm by the wrist and twisting it.
Megamind screamed. Half of the staples tore loose but Corbin maintained his grip until Megamind
sank to the ground on one knee. The lacerations burned, it was even worse than the initial injury,
it shouldn't hurt worse. Every joint from wrist to shoulder was stretched to their limits, at nearly
bone-breaking levels. His right arm, pulled up tight to the other by the short length of chain, was
not doing too great either, but his left arm felt as if a sword had pierced it.
Corbin let go and Megamind collapsed.
You know, you're right. Doesn't that suck? Corbin said. Megamind pressed his forehead against
the cold ground and watched Corbin's feet out of the corner of his eye. Corbin was standing too
close to his head. He wondered when the kicking would start.
A couple of the men glanced uneasily toward the sky.
Relax, guys, Corbin said. That... he glanced at Megamind. ...flying boy scout's not going to
come diving in. He's too busy putting out fires and shaking hands. You have any idea how many
calls for help go up every night in a city this size? He can't be everywhere.
He took a few steps back and forth. The sky remained free of flying supers.
See? Corbin said, spreading out his arms. He gestured at Megamind. Pick him up.
Bates leaned over to grab hold of his shirt and set him on his feet, holding his arm to make sure he
didn't fall down again.
Somebody shut that fish up, Corbin snapped. Through the haze of pain, Megamind identified
the crashing noises from the inside of the car. Minion, in a frenzy, was banging the bowl around
for all it was worth.
One of the other agents walked toward the car, but Corbin raised his hand. Wait a sec, he said,
an unpleasant smirk appearing on his face. I've got a better idea. Bring him out.
Sounds like Minion's having a little trouble accepting the situation, he said. The agent came
back from the car with the containment unit, Minion spinning within furiously.
So how does it open? Corbin said, tapping on it. I mean, you gotta feed him, right?
Megamind strained against the hands that held him. Lay a finger on him and I will spend the rest
of my life inventing new ways of causing you pain, he said harshly.
Chuckles broke out around the circle and Corbin's face split into a wide grin. What was that, a
threat? Here's a tip, little boy. Don't go making threats you can't deliver on. I think it's important
that we straighten a few things out here. It seems to me, Minion doesn't really understand who's in

charge here. Open the bowl, Minion.

Dread clutched his heart with icy fingers. Don't do it, Minion, Megamind said. At a nod from
Corbin, one of the men stepped forward and punched Megamind in the gut.
He doubled over, coughing and struggling for breath. Only Bates' grip kept him from falling to the
ground again. When he managed to raise his head he saw that Minion had opened the top of the
dome.
Very good, said Corbin, unsheathing a large knife. It glinted in the faint light. Now give me
your fin.
Minion, stop, Megamind croaked. The agent punched him again.
Come on, Minion, Corbin said. Do we have to do this all night? Give me your fin or Bates will
give your boy's arm another squeeze. Your limb or his.
Eyes watering, Megamind saw Minion float to the top and roll onto his side.
I'm impressed. You just can't buy that kind of loyalty. Don't even think about biting, Corbin
warned, and grasped the trembling fin. He looked at Megamind. Call me sir.
What? Megamind wheezed.
Did I stutter? Just so your little fish isn't confused anymore about who's in charge. Say it.
How quickly they came to the humiliation segment of tonight's program, Megamind thought
glumly. Using Minion against him, to drive home the hopelessness. Yes sir, he spat.
Corbin pressed his lips together and gave a slow shake of the head. That didn't sound very
sincere, he said with a smirk. That sound sincere to you? he asked the circle of grinning agents.
The man holding the containment unit snorted.
Megamind lunged against the restraining hands. I said it, you sadistic bastard! What do you
want! he shouted. Fine, you want me to call you sir, I'll do it, you swaggering pretentious
arrogant---
Corbin placed the edge of the knife against the fin's joint. Megamind sucked in a breath. Minion
squeezed his eyes shut.
Corbin looked at him steadily. What I'm really after here is some sign that you can be taught. All
I want is a little cooperation. Is that too much to ask? I strongly suggest that you lose that snarky
attitude. I'm giving you one more chance. Call me sir, and say it like you mean it, or Minion will
swim in circles the rest of his life.
Corbin's words drained the strength out of him. He sagged in Bates' grip.
Yes, sir, he said as meekly as he could, choking, because he was terrified that his next vision
would be of the knife, cutting...
And an apology, and a promise of good behavior, Corbin said calmly.
Megamind hated him with every fiber of his being. I'm sorry, sir. I'll be good, sir, he said.
That wasn't so hard now, was it? Corbin said. He released Minion and sheathed the knife.
Minion sank to the bottom in a huddle. Put him back. The agent carried Minion to the car and

put him in the back seat.

Corbin walked over to Megamind. I own you now. You and your little fish. And you owe me a
very sizable amount of money. It's not like buyers with twenty million come around every day.
Yes, the discs were worth that much, he said at Megamind's startled look. You owe me that
much, plus interest. Show me how useful you are and maybe I won't sell you to some lab who'll
use you for source material. And Minion gets to keep his fins. Won't that be nice?
But first, your punishment for robbing me. Or your initiation. However you want to look at it,
whatever makes it easier. Wachowski?
One of the men came forward, cracking his knuckles.
Pull your punches. Dont want any broken bones, Corbin said. And not the head, or the face.
Gotta preserve that beautiful brain.
----------------Inside the car, Minion cringed at the sound of every blow. After a while he couldn't stand it any
longer and began throwing himself against the containment unit.
If he had his robot body, those men would not be smiling and laughing! He would crush, he
would tear!
Minion wanted to scream and rage, to shout at them to leave Sir alone, but he clenched his teeth
together. It would do no good, he couldn't stop them.
Besides, he had to keep the secret. It could be their last chance. He had to keep his mouth shut
tight, or they might see it. It had been especially hard to not whimper or cry out when Corbin
threatened to cut his fin off. Minion shuddered at the memory of that hard grip. What good was
he, when they could use him to torment his master?
Oily tears formed in the corners of Minion's eyes and quickly dissolved. He was so useless, no
help at all, Sir was getting beaten and all he could do was swim around and throw himself against
this stupid ball and rock it back and forth until it was banging against the door of the car, again
and again and again, until he rolled himself onto the floor in his frenzy. But still he didn't stop.
-----------They shoveled Megamind into the back seat. He curled up in his own private world of pain, not
really thinking of anything, just feeling a simple animal relief that the hitting had stopped. He
caught a glimpse of Minion on the floor but he closed his eyes. The anguish in those sad brown
eyes was too much to bear.
Corbin dismissed the other men. Good work, gentlemen. Don't worry about writing any reports.
There was a brief ripple of laughter and Corbin got in the passenger side while Bates took the
wheel. The car engine revved, and they rolled down the road.
Isn't the plane ready yet? What, we're just gonna sit in the car?
Nah. We can put him in a cell for a while. It's only going to be a couple hours.
A new pit of dread opened within his chest. Plane. A plane? Where were they going?
The leather of the seat was warm against his cheek. The car jostled over the bumps and cracks of
the road. He clenched his teeth against the sharp jabs of pain that this produced, curling around the

worst knots of pain. The bandage lay on his arm like a wet towel. All of Minion's carefully
applied staples must have torn loose.
Minion cleared his throat but he didn't look down. Minion was just anxious, wanting to make eye
contact. It was better if he didn't attract Corbin's attention.
Idly he probed his teeth with a dry tongue. Despite Corbin's instructions, Wachowski had gotten
carried away a couple of times. His jaw ached but he seemed to have all of his teeth.
What would happen now? So far, life had not exactly been a load of laughs, but he was rather
fond of it nevertheless. Was a lifetime of slavery all he had to look forward to now? It was best to
not think about it.
Minion cleared his throat again more loudly, as if a scale had gone down the wrong pipe.
Megamind felt a flash of irritation. Minion had to keep a low profile! He should keep as quiet as
possible and maybe Corbin would leave him alone, would overlook the fact that Minion had once
punched him in the jaw. Peering over the seat he scowled and shook his head at Minion, warning
him to keep quiet.
Minion fixed him with an intent stare. He worked his jaw like peanut butter was stuck to the roof
of his mouth, and a lock pick appeared between his teeth. With a flick of his jaw the pick
disappeared again like magic. Minion gave him a big grin.
Megamind had to clamp his lips together to keep from cheering. That beautiful, fantastic fish! If
they got out of this alive, it would be swordfish steak every day on a golden platter! The biggest
aquarium he could steal! As many video games as that wonderful, clever, sneaky Minion could
stomach! Whatever he wanted!
Heart bursting with a new hope, his eyes shifted toward the front seat and the back of the agents'
heads. All seemed calm and they weren't looking. He looked at Minion again and gave a little nod
and closed his eyes.
There was the tiniest of 'plips' as Minion spat the pick out. Megamind cracked his eye open and
peered down. The little pick lay on the carpet of the floor, just beneath him.
He took a few steadying breaths. It was going to hurt when he rolled onto the floor. He froze for a
second, wondering if some sort of cover story were needed. How quickly would they pull over?
Especially if they thought he was going to get sick all over the car? Probably pretty quickly, but if
they suspected he were up to something they might search him right then and there. He'd better go
with 'on the verge of being violently ill', then.
I think I'm gonna be sick, he groaned, and slid off the seat. He landed more or less on his knees,
but the mild impact jostled his ribs and the resulting pain momentarily paralyzed him when he hit
the floor. Bates cursed and the car slowed down. The seat creaked as Corbin turned to scowl into
the back.
As Bates pulled over, Megamind whispered, As soon as we get to our destination, you have to
get up on the seat and into my hands as soon as possible, just as they're getting out of the car. His
hands scrabbled for the pick. Where was the damn thing? He looked into Minion's eyes. You're
going to be the first to attack, he whispered. Can you do it?
Minion wore an excited expression. You bet, Sir! he whispered back. The car stopped, and
rocked slightly as Corbin got out. Megamind's hand closed over the pick as the back door opened
and the scowling agent leaned in and pulled him to a sitting position.

He sat Megamind on the edge of the seat, with his feet on the street, and pushed his head down
toward his knees.
Keep your head down, he ordered. Hey, Leroy, you got a paper bag?
Megamind obeyed, the lock pick buried in his fist. He kept his eyes trained on his boots, on
Corbin's shoes as they impatiently shifted about, and on the concrete. It had started to sleet and a
pattering of tiny ice crystals cooled the back of his head.
So is he gonna live or what? Bates grumbled from the front seat.
Well, are you? Think you can make it without hurling? Corbin snapped.
Mutely, still keeping his eyes trained on the road as if it were the most fascinating microbe ever
discovered, Megamind nodded.
Corbin gave him a little shove on the shoulder and obediently he swung his feet back into the car
and away they went.
He leaned against the window with his eyes closed and rotated the little pick until it was in the tips
of his fingers. Patiently he searched for the lock in the cuffs.
Bile rose in his throat and for a moment he thought he really would get sick.
He didn't know their destination, or how many agents he would have to deal with. Corbin had
dismissed the other men so it was just him and Bates, but Megamind didn't know if there would be
more agents meeting them or not.
Minion would bear the full brunt of the first attack. How could he ask him to do something like
this? He would be so vulnerable, at least for the first few crucial seconds. And tough as the little
ichthyoid was, he wasn't quite as durable as Megamind.
Maybe he should wait. But they would probably go through a metal detector at some point. And
what if he and Minion were separated?
Terror and uncertainty glued him to the seat, lock pick clutched in his increasingly sweaty hand.
He glanced down at Minion from under lowered eyelids. Jaw sticking out, Minion stared fiercely
back at him, sides swelling as if he were preparing to leap out of the bowl. He gave Megamind a
single determined nod.
Megamind felt the iron of determination enter his bones. He stuck the end of the pick into the
opening and got to work. His breathing steadied, and, as he fell deeper into concentration, his
eyelids drooped and his gaze became unfocused.
If either of the two agents bothered looking in the back, they would have seen a prisoner who was
bordering on comatose, nothing more, unaware of the activity taking place behind their backs. Or
behind Megamind's back, specifically.
----As they pulled into the parking garage behind the federal building, Corbin exited the car with a
satisfied sigh. A couple of hours to relax, put Megamind into a holding cell for a little while, then
the FBI helicopter on the roof would take them to the airstrip. And he could get out of this onehorse town for a while. He was looking forward to going back east. On the coast he could shake a
tree and find a better class of supers than in this backwater.

Everyone around here seemed to have some kind of mental situation. Must be something in the
water. Sparkle had her limited uses. He didn't even need to put a collar on her. Stupid girl had the
power to send a four story building up in flames with a touch of her hand, but she was such a
mouse! Which was fortunate for Psycho Delic, who did not know how lucky he was that she
hadn't sent a lance of energy through his spinal column. It had taken Corbin forever to even
convince her to master her power of flight. There was a mental case, right there. Probably had
something to do with the time she'd accidentally set her boyfriend's hair on fire.
Because of this, whenever Corbin brought her to his place he put a collar on her before taking her
to bed, as a precaution. There was no need to play with fire at those most intimate of moments.
She never protested, probably because she believed this was the only way any man would ever be
safe with her. Corbin suspected the stupid girl was in love with him, which amused him.
So. Get the alien boy out of the city, away from the inconvenient legal guardian, and indoctrinate
him into his crew. Megamind was halfway broken in already.
He opened the door to the back and Megamind, head bowed, sluggishly lifted his feet out, set
them on the ground and stood up. Bates went to collect Minion from the floor on the other side.
Ed, the fish is gone!
Corbin looked up sharply, then down.
The handcuffs fell to the ground as Megamind raised his arms.
Minion sprang out of his hands and into Corbin's face, every pointy tooth bared.

Into the Fire

The Department of Paranormal Investigations trained its agents to expect the unexpected, to be
ready for just about any sort of bizarre super-powered phenomena they might encounter, but not
even Corbin with his quick reflexes and martial arts training had ever imagined that a four pound
ichthyoid would latch onto his face.
Bates, also taken by surprise, came around the side of the car at a run toward his screaming,
flailing partner, and met Minion's containment unit coming at him from the opposite direction at
full speed. He was knocked out cold.
Megamind renewed his grip on the bulky containment unit. It was slippery and about as
aerodynamic as a washing machine, making it the worst blunt instrument in the history of
bludgeoning. And it was all he had.
Minion had left an opening in the top just large enough to afford Megamind a tenuous grip. The
containment unit wasn't bulletproof, but it should endure a couple of solid impacts. Probably. It
had better, or else Minion would be in real trouble. With his other hand to steady it, he ran toward
Corbin and began to swing it at his head in a long slow arc.
It was simple geometry. Calculate length, angle, distance between the endpoints, and add enough
force...
Corbin tore Minion off his face and flung him to the ground just as the containment unit connected
with the side of his head. He went over like a wind-blown tree.
Megamind fell on one knee beside Minion.
Hurts, Minion gasped, sides heaving. Bowl.
Right here, right here, Megamind said in a high tight voice. Putting the containment unit on the
ground, he worked his hands gently under the little ichythyoid and lifted him to put him back in.
A hand grabbed his ankle and yanked. It happened so suddenly that he fell hard right on his
DAMN ribs, so for a couple of white-hot seconds he couldn't even remember his own name. He
also landed on Minion, who shot out of his arms as if he were greased and rolled under the car.
Teeth gritted against the shock, he twisted around onto his back as Corbin dragged him closer.
Corbin's face was a demon mask of rage and blood, several puncture wounds making a lopsided
oval pattern across nose, cheek, and lip. Immediately Megamind began kicking, and he broke free
while Corbin howled. Lurching to his feet Megamind scrabbled around the other side of the car,
barely ahead of the furious agent.
Minion! Get out here! he shouted, dodging around the car again. Corbin did not seem to
remember that he had both gun and knife at his disposal. A certain look in his eye suggested that
sanity had pretty much flown out the window. Megamind wanted to stay as far away from him as
possible, preferably by several time zones.
Minion, get your tail out here right now!
I-I can't, Minion gasped, voice faint. Run, Sir!

Corbin charged. Megamind dashed around the car again, leaping over Bates' prone legs. What do
you think I'm doing!
No, I mean, away! Run away, Sir! Save yourself!
Don't get all noble on me, Minion! He took a quick look under the chassis and caught a glimpse
of one of the tail fronds. A sense of movement from above made him duck and he felt rather than
saw Corbin's strike whisk over his head. The fist connected with the side of the car instead and he
doubled over in pain.
Megamind took the opportunity to ram his shoulder into his gut. An artfully placed foot sent the
larger man toppling over backwards but Megamind didn't stop to watch the fall. He turned his
head sideways and dove under the car.
There was just enough clearance. He grabbed Minion by one of the tail fronds and pulled him out,
scraping more of the poor guy's scales off, but it couldn't be helped, and then he had him in his
arms. Rolling to his feet he whirled to run, and collided with Corbin's arm.
The back of his head hit the ground.
Clotheslined, he thought, dazedly staring at the steel girders on the ceiling of the parking garage.
Head hurt. Breath knocked out. Why clotheslined? There were any number of objects that ran
parallel to the ground. Street signs. Traffic signals. Awnings, sort of. He got awninged. Yeah,
clotheslined sounded better.
His empty hands, remembering that they had been full just a second ago, moved vaguely around.
Hadn't he been carrying something?
A foot caught him against his side and lifted him into the air. He banged into metal. The car. He
landed on the ground again, asphalt rough against his chin. Slowly he placed one hand flat on the
ground but got no further before hard hands pulled him upright. He moved his heavy head around
to face the demon mask.
Corbin bunched his fist and let fly. Bright sparks danced across Megamind's vision, white, purple,
and blue, and entirely too much blood filled his mouth. Another blow snapped his head back and
his legs collapsed but Corbin's grip on his shirt kept him from falling. The agent, face locked into
what could be a permanent scowl, shoved him back and wrapped his hands around his throat.
The shock of his oxygen getting cut off sent new strength rocketing through his limbs. He tried to
kick but Corbin had his legs pinned. He pounded at arms and torso but it was like punching a
rhino. Trying to shove a fist into Corbin's eye merely caused him to pull his head back a little
more, effectively putting his face out of Megamind's reach.
Why did every dirtbag in the entire rotten world have to outweigh him by a hundred goddamn
pounds! He could hold his own against larger opponents, but not if he couldn't maneuver. Black
spots appeared on the edge of his vision, ran together, and formed a tunnel and he clawed at the
hands locked around his throat. The corner of the trunk jamming into his spine, bent backwards, it
looked like Corbin's vicious, blood-streaked face was going to be the last thing he would ever see,
when the face's eyes shot wide with shock and the mouth opened in a yell and Corbin half turned
and struck behind him.
The death grip on his throat lessened and the pressure on his legs went away. For a moment, he
was free. With a pinprick of amusement Megamind thought Minion. Minion bit him in the tush.
Megamind grabbed the black lapels of the man's trench coat and yanked himself forward and

upward as hard as possible.

There was a sound like a big coconut hitting a smaller one and Corbin swayed, then dropped to
his knees and fell over. Megamind slid down the car, lights flashing behind his eyeballs, and sat
against the back wheel, relishing the feel of air rushing through his burning windpipe and into his
aching lungs. He much preferred to use his brains rather than his skull as a weapon. It had
happened a few times, though, during times of trouble, that his head would accidentally collide
with an opponent, usually to their detriment. It hurt. How did those Brits do it? They seemed to be
the 'nutting' specialists. There must be some particular technique for the nutter to remain upright
while the nuttee keeled over.
Corbin placed his hands under him and tried to lift himself.
Megamind groaned. Did he have a metal plate in his head?! What did it take to knock him out?
He braced against the ground but it seemed like such an awful lot of trouble to get up again. He
wanted to get up, but his muscles were voting for a hiatus. So he sat there and watched as the
agent staggered to his feet and stumbled sideways, eyes glazed and unfocused.
Megamind managed to drag his unwilling body into some form of cooperation and began the
tedious process of rising. He climbed up dizzily with the help of the car. As Corbin swung his
arms to catch himself from falling, the hem of his coat flapped open and Megamind saw the gun.
Forcing his limbs back to life, head ringing, he zeroed in on the hardware at Corbin's waist. He
had to hurry hurry hurry, Corbin's eyes were getting more unglazed by the microsecond.
Megamind lunged at the belt even as one hand grabbed him again and lifted him up by the shirt,
and the other hand became a fist...
...but the blow never fell. Corbin froze at the sound of his own gun being cocked. The tip of the
gun barrel against his jugular was another deciding factor.
Megamind held the gun steady in a two-handed grip, hanging from Corbin's fist, his toes grazing
the ground. They stood there for a moment in a tableau. Megamind pressed the gun a little more
firmly into his neck. Corbin slowly uncurled his raised fist. Sometimes a gun can speak much
louder than words.
With extreme care, he let go of the shirt and Megamind felt his feet settle fully on the ground
again. His gaze never wavered from those blood-shot eyes and he kept the gun planted against the
hollow place right under the jaw.
Somewhere in the dark, Minion choked.
Megamind almost looked. He almost looked around for his dearest friend.
Corbin's reptilian eyes watched him.
A wave of arctic cold poured through him. If he broke eye contact for even a split second, Corbin
would strike. He could see it in the man's eyes. It would be risky, but Corbin would risk it, might
even win.
The gun trembled against the underside of Corbin's jaw. His arms felt so heavy he could hardly
hold it steady.
Rage swept the bone chill away. He would not look away! He, Megamind, was in control!
I won't look around like some sap, because I cannot do anything for Minion until you are

subdued. I can play the heartless bastard game better than you can, Corbin, I am in control here,
I have the power. Not you.
And then a very evil voice in his head spoke. It wasn't ee-vil, the sort of dashing theatrical
escapades he normally engaged in, this was drink-your-enemy's-blood-out-of-his-own-skull
capital 'E' Evil.
And that voice urged: Pull the trigger. That will take care of everything.
I'm not a murderer, Megamind thought.
He would have killed you, the Evil voice murmured.
He...might've been trying to render me unconscious.
Yeah, right, the voice scoffed. And what about Minion?
Minion can survive for several minutes out of water.
So how long has it been? the voice sneered. You dont even know. You lost track, got too many
whacks to the head. Is he going to die because you're too chicken to end it right here?
Except it wouldn't end right here, Megamind thought fiercely. The feds are like cops.
Cockroaches. Step on one, the rest come swarming. No killing. I am in control! There are other
ways to get rev-ahnge. Some things are worse than death and I will see to it that Corbin finds that
out.
Megamind surprised himself with that last thought.
The internal conversation lasted for the blink of an eye. Maybe Corbin saw a hint of Evil in
Megaminds eyes because suddenly he looked a little less certain of himself. If Megamind didnt
know better, he almost looked worried.
Hands behind your head, he said in a hoarse whisper. Now step back.
Minion gave a rattling gasp. Megamind's neck tendons nearly snapped under the strain of not
looking.
Turn around, he ordered. Corbin obeyed, eyes blazing.
He quickly removed the knife from Corbin's belt and flung it away. Stepping to the side so he
could see Corbin's face he made him take five more steps. His fingers twitched with impatience as
Corbin slowly complied. Minion wouldn't have much time.
You have three seconds to get down on the ground, he hissed. The same deal you gave me
when I was at your mercy at Tanaka Industries. One. Tw---
Megamind took a brief pleasure at the noise Corbin made as he threw himself to the ground before
he could finish the syllable.
He finally glanced around to find Minion, but he kept checking to make sure Corbin wasn't up to
anything. He wasn't far away. Keeping the gun trained on the recumbent agent, Megamind
hurried over to him and scooped him up awkwardly with his good hand and the wrist of his gun
hand. Once he was safely in the crook of his arm he trained the gun on Corbin again.
Teeth chattering, stomach clenching, Megamind ran to the containment unit, lying on its side.

About a third of the water had dribbled out.

He knelt by the containment unit, righted it, and gently pressed Minion's head against its smooth
curve.
Minion, it's here. Wake up, he said hoarsely. The opening that Minion had left in it was too
small. It could not be forced open. Only Minion had control over the containment unit.
Fighting panic, Megamind pressed Minion's bleeding side against it but the little ichthyoid didn't
move.
Despair filled him and threatened to overflow his eyes. He crouched over him and held the cool
scales against his own forehead.
Minion, knock knock, he whispered.
A fin fluttered. The opening in the bowl grew larger.
Hardly daring to breathe, he slipped him inside. He swished the water around to get it flowing
over Minion's tortured gills. The gills flared, then relaxed, then flared again. Megamind pressed a
hand to the bowl, relieved. The gills hadnt been crushed.
Minions eyes opened to slits. Squinting, he focused on Megamind.
Thank you, Sir, he whispered.
Megaminds breath caught in a sob and he smiled so hard his cheeks hurt. Two tears ran down his
face.
He caught the movement of Corbin's head out of the corner of his eye.
Immediately Megamind stood and raised the gun. Do NOT move, he said. Corbin put his head
down again.
A tear dripped off Megaminds chin. The tip of the gun weaved back and forth in a figure eight
pattern.
Keep it together, you stupid genius, he scolded himself. Get Minion out of there, have hysterics
later.
Megamind knelt by Minion again on one knee, scooped him up with his good arm, and hugged
him close. Minion lived, and the warmth of that filled him and renewed his determination. His
wounded left arm would have to be pressed into service a while longer, though the gun's tip kept
dipping and wavering. A gun that weighed only one point seven pounds shouldnt have dragged
on his arm so heavily.
Off by the car, Bates moaned and stirred.
Megamind grimaced. He could have stayed unconscious a little longer, he growled. Just five
more minutes. I mean, really.
Sorry, Sir, Minion said groggily.
Megamind expelled an huff of breath in exasperation. What are you apologizing for? You didn't
have anything to do with knocking him out.
Oh. Sorry.

Oh. Sorry.
Megamind sighed. Just keep an eye on blondie over there.
Okay, Sir.
Sidling toward Bates, he reluctantly turned the gun away from Corbin. Just moving his eyes
around from one agent to the other hurt.
Bates rolled over, sat up, and began to put a hand to his head, when he saw Megamind, bleeding,
scuffed, and extremely crabby, aiming the gun at him. Bates raised his hands.
On your feet.
Bates obeyed groggily.
Now, very carefully, take out your gun and drop it. Now kick it away.
Bates did so. He glanced toward the still form of his partner. What did you do? he rumbled.
Megamind's lip curled. Don't worry. Your boyfriends alive, he said sourly. His arms shook. He
had to readjust Minion's bowl. He wanted so badly to hold it with both arms, it would make it so
much easier. He could feel his back curving over and his shoulders sagging as he struggled against
gravity and attrition.
Take his coat, Sir, Minion said.
Megamind would have sighed heavily, but it would have hurt too much. You have a one-track
mind, Minion.
So what? It's cold.
You heard him, he snapped at Bates. Coat! Let it fall off your shoulders and onto the ground.
Bates moved sluggishly and stumbled. Megamind nearly pulled the trigger and blew his head off.
Easy, easy, easy, he told himself, sweat rolling down his temples. He's groggy from the blow to
the head.
How's the other one, Minion? he murmured.
Still right where you left him, Sir.
Everything was taking too long. The whole fight couldn't have lasted more than five minutes,
though it felt like eons, as if he'd been fighting for hours and hours, but there must be cameras and
guards inside the building. Even the laziest security guard was bound to notice that something was
wrong sooner or later.
He glared at Bates as he shrugged the coat off. With an impatient jerk of the gun, he motioned him
away from the car.
Keys, Minion murmured.
God, he almost forgot the keys. Drop the keys on the ground, Megamind said.
Bates fished them out and the keys landed with a little clink.
After he made Bates lie down, Megamind hobbled over to the keys and snagged them with two
fingers. He wished he had three eyes, one for Corbin, one for Bates, and another so he could see

what the hell he was doing. He was sure that Minion was doing his best to keep an eye on Corbin,
but he would feel a lot better once they were in the vehicle.
The back door was still hanging open. There was a divider between the front and back seats; hed
have to get in through a front door. Itd be a hell of thing if he went through all this and couldnt
get into the drivers seat. He slammed the back door and went around to the drivers side.
Getting the front door unlocked with his hands full was a herculean feat, but he got it done and
deposited Minion on the seat, then went back to get the coat, always facing his enemies. Minion
would never let him hear the end of it if he left the stupid coat behind.
He leaped into the driver's seat, slammed the door, and immediately hit the button that locked all
the doors. Exactly one second later Corbin grabbed the door handle.
I knew it, Megamind thought, shoving the key in the ignition. What a maniac! He can't stand to
lose!
He gave Corbin a savage grin. Let's see how fast you heal, fed! he shouted through the glass,
drunk with victory. He turned the key and the engine roared to life. Remember me when you
look in the mirror! Ha ha ha!
Corbin yanked at the handle and pounded on the glass. Gleefully, Megamind shot him a onefingered salute, hit the gas, and tore away with squealing tires.
The enraged, bloody face fell fast behind and he cackled until he was wheezing. The eupohoria!
The elation! The absolute spontaneous outpouring of endorphins! Stickin' it to the man!
As he tore through the parking garage, Megamind glimpsed some people rushing out of some
doorway or other but they were hardly worthy of notice. He sent the car crashing through the
guard rail at the entrance and plunged out into the street, forcing a couple of early morning
commuters off the road. The blaring horns and screeching tires were like applause in his ears.
His triumphant escape was marred only slightly when he pulled over several blocks later to adjust
the seat forward.
-----It seemed to take no time at all before the sedan crashed against the concrete barrier just outside
the Kum 'n Go gas station, scattering pieces of broken headlight across the sidewalk.
Megamind looked blankly at the surprised, staring faces peering out of the windows of the
building. What am I doing here? he wondered. He had come directly to this place for no other
reason than that he had no place left to go. And, perhaps, to say good bye. Ronnie wasn't the
brightest bulb on the tree, but he and Minion had found a small refuge here. Though Ronnie was
not exactly a friend, and their interactions were hardly a relationship of equals, it had been nice to
hang out with someone who wasn't trying to capture, betray, or run away from them.
Pushing open the door he almost fell out onto the ground. The agony pulled him under in a tidal
wave. Bracing himself with his arms against the door and the seat, he hung there while the
constellations swung ponderously over him.
He blinked at the curious sight of stars falling through the air. Oh. It was sleeting.
Sir! Sir, are you all right? Minion cried.
He swallowed. His throat felt like a thousand deserts. Minion, he mumbled. I am of a species

known for its toughness and resiliency, correct?

Oh, yes, Sir, definitely.
Megamind inhaled a tiny bit. If he were careful, the pain dulled from excruciating to merely
agonizing. Oh, good. Good. So when does it start? The resiliency. Because I would really like it
to start now.
Well... I don't know if that means pain-free, Sir...it's sort of...
Just a rhetorical question, Minion.
Stiffly, Megamind gathered the coat over one arm, picked up Minion, and gripped the gun.
Padding into the station, his eyes widened at the reflection in the window and his steps slowed. He
only knew it was him because there could not possibly be another large headed, blue-skinned boy
in the entire city. Or the world for that matter. With blood plastering his face and purple bruises
making his head swell in odd places, he looked like he'd been dragged under several cars, or else
was the victim of a virulent paint ball attack.
The bright lights caused a stab of pain in his head that made him wince. His vision doubled and
for a second he saw multiple aisles and about ten customers and two or three Ronnies all looking
at him. He shook his head to clear it and the multiple images disappeared back into five customers,
four aisles, and one Ronnie. All eyes were on him, and especially on the gun, which was no
surprise.
Everybody out, he snarled, or tried to. What came out of his throat was more of a croak. He
glared around at the motionless customers.
Sir, maybe you should step away from the entrance, Minion whispered.
Oh yes, that could help. Megamind casually took two steps to the side and made a short angry
gesture with the gun. Even though he didn't aim it at anybody, its mere presence was enough to
ensure that they all filed past at just short of a run.
Ronnie, almost as green as Minion, began to come out from behind the counter.
Not you, Megamind said, a little more harshly than he intended. Ronnie stood still.
He swallowed. That sandpaper feeling was back in his mouth, worse than ever, and his throat was
killing him. I need a favor, Ronnie, he croaked, and grimaced at the harsh sound. I'm afraid I'm
going to have to take your car, poor substitute that it is. And I will need you to stock it with water
bottles.
He felt Minion's bowl slipping out of his grasp and he hugged it close with both arms, gun arm
wrapped awkwardly around it.
Ronnie fidgeted. Uh...maybe you better sit down, he said.
I'd love to, Ronnie, but that's not an option at this point. I'm in a hurry.
Megamind watched a series of troubled emotions pass across Ronnie's face.
Well, it's just that, your... your dad was here a little while ago, and I kinda think...
This was too much. Megamind would've clapped a hand over his face except they were full of
gun and Minion. Wearily he rubbed his gun wrist over his forehead.

So old warden was here? he said. Ronnie nodded. He would've laughed except it would have
hurt too much. Not that long ago getting a hold of the warden had looked to be his only hope of
escaping from Corbin's clutches, but now Megamind could see it for the false haven that it was.
The warden couldn't help him.
A few minor questions buzzed weakly in his mind. When had the warden been there. How did he
know that he and Minion had been frequenting this place. It was idle curiosity at this point,
nothing more.
Ronnie, he said quietly. I'm in a hurry. Some large, angry men from your government will,
sooner or later, find that sedan I've left rather conspicuously parked outside your store. I have to
take your car, and the water, and I'm afraid I won't be paying for it this time. And if you know
what's good for you, you will keep our...shool sessions to yourself. If you mention it to those
large, angry men, they'll most likely put you through some very uncomfortable interrogation
procedures. I realize this may be an inconvenience, but that's the best advice I can give you.
Ronnie stared at him, face ashen, the struggle with his conscience passing across his face. What's
this fool waiting for? he thought irritably. Clearly his feeble mind is finding it hard to grasp the
intricacies of the situation. The gun twitched in his hand.
Ronnie, he said sharply. It's just lying. An aspiring lawyer should be good at that. He hefted
the gun, aiming it at the ceiling. I really don't want to make this look like a real robbery. But I
can, if you like. He fixed him with a glare.
Ronnie sprang into action. Megamind followed him out to his station wagon in the back of the
station and watched him put a six pack of bottled water on the front seat. He instructed him to
pour more water into Minion's containment unit to top it off. Ronnie did so with shaking hands,
slopping it in and losing about half a bottle onto the ground. Megamind sent him scurrying back
inside, and then he crawled into the front seat.
I think you scared him, Sir, Minion said sadly. He looked over at Megamind and caught his
breath.
Megamind's forehead lay against the wheel but his face was hidden behind the whitened knuckles
gripping it. There wasn't... time to...put on a happy face and... jolly him along, Megamind
mumbled.
Sir, Minion said. Go back inside. Tell Ronnie to call an ambulance.
I just need a minute, he mumbled.
Sir, please. Please, Minion whispered. You need help. And I can't do anything.
Don't worry, filet mignon. You've done enough.
Minion tried again, and spoke a little more forcefully. Sir, you have to go back inside. Ronnie
can even call the warden, he...
The warden is of no use to us, Megamind said, lifting his head to look at his faithful friend.
Minion's forehead wrinkled and he looked close to tears. He can too! I know you don't get along
with him, Sir, but he always looks out for you! For us! He can...
Do I have to explain everything? Megamind said wearily. If I turn around and go back now,
what do you think will happen? We'll be back in our cozy little cell, and someday soon Corbin

will show up at the prison gates with paperwork. His mouth twisted. A warrant, or evidence, or
transferral of custody. Some stupid thing. And you can be sure that all of it will be nice and legal.
And the warden will hand us over. I don't mean he would want to, he added hastily as Minion
opened his mouth to protest again. But he won't have any choice. If the paperwork looks
legitimate, he has to obey. He has to follow the law.
In the privacy of his own head he wondered if the warden would be all that sorry to see the back
of him. He didn't really think it was true, but he feared it was, and the thought that the old man
would be relieved to have an excuse to hand him off to someone else was painful.
It was one thing to turn his back on the old man. It felt quite different if it was the other way
around.
The warden is a good man, and he has to obey the law, Megamind said, turning the key in the
ignition. And what we need is the help of a total bastard who has no regard for authority.
Minion hadn't been Minion all this time without recognizing a leading line when he heard one.
And how are we going to find someone like that, Sir?
Megamind's mouth twitched as he pushed the stick into reverse and he gave him a sly glance.
You're lookin' at him, Minion.
----Megamind was running on fumes. On vapors. On the fumes of vapors. On the ghosts of the fumes
of vapors. Set out one night to rob a robotics corporation, and end up getting your arm shredded
by a rabid, genetically modified beast man, sent on a caffeine roller coaster, chased by cops,
mocked by your nemesis, and delivered into the hands of your worst nightmare.
The corners of his mouth turned down. Metro Man had been the one to capture both him and
Minion. He had a lot to answer for. If that goody two shoes had minded his own business, none of
this would have happened!
The car meandered from side to side, cutting across lanes, raising the ire of early morning
commuters. It scraped along a guardrail for several yards, sending a shower of sparks across the
window, until Megamind dreamily noticed and corrected the course.
The ringing in his ears was irritating the hell out of him, and then he realized it was coming from
the pocket of the black trench coat.
After some more meandering paths across several lanes, he scrabbled a cell phone out of the
pocket.
A stern female voice came out of it. Are you there? Megamind, are you there?
He grunted. For the life of him he couldn't imagine who it was.
This is Alicia Montgomery of the FBI. I advise you to bring the vehicle to a halt and surrender. It
is your only option.
Really, he murmured. A negotiator. From my side, it looks like there's plenty of other options
available at this juncture. He glanced around, but there didn't seem to be any flashing lights
anywhere on the road, or helicopters overhead.
This doesn't have to go any further, she said in firm, reasonable tones. It's not too late. If you

surrender now, you...

Look, Miss, Mrs, or Mzzzzz. Montgomery, he interrrupted wearily, putting a little insolent
buzzing noise on the 'Ms.', Generally I enjoy a spot of witty banter as much as the next desperate
fugitive, but I'm really not in the mood right now. Especially since I don't care to get throttled
again. Or is strangulation the usual method for capturing suspects?
He rolled down the window and threw the cell phone out of it, to the accompanying soothing
tones of the FBI negotiator still trying to be persuasive.
----He was so...so... something. Whatzit. The word. Lessee. Started with 'x'. Oh well, he'd think of it
in a minute. Once he got a little sleep. Once he...
His forehead bounced off the steering wheel. Snapping his head up, he saw the back end of the
car in front just in time. Yanking the wheel, he roared around it and raced on through a cloud of
exhaust.
Oh yes. Exhausted, that was it. He was exhausted.
His breathing was harsh and stabs of pain constricted his chest. Had something broken? He tried
to remember if he'd heard any suspicious cracking noises from any of the countless blows he'd
endured.
Of course, driving this jalopy would be a lot easier if Minion weren't making such a racket. It was
very distracting.
He glanced around to see what Minion was fussing about. Of course, the poor fish had gotten a
number of hits himself, he may have sustained a head injury. He would be sure to check him out
as soon as he could.
His eyes blinked at the empty seat. Where...? Oh, there he was, on the floor. How did he get
down there? The top of the water looked frothy. What was he doing, swimming laps?
Whu... Megamind said. He swallowed through a dry painful throat and tried again. Whassit,
Minion.
I SAID! GET OFF! THE FREEWAY! Minion screamed.
Megamind frowned. That didn't sound like Minion. He squinted at him, trying to see if maybe
he'd picked up the wrong talking fish by mistake. But that was silly, Minion was one of a kind, a
really...
SIR, PULL OVER!
Megamind winced. All right, all right. If you insist. Sheesh, he grumbled. Though I must say,
Minion, I don't particurarr... particle... partig... really care for your tone of voice.
A short slide down the exit ramp took them to a quiet side street, sleet icing up the windshield.
Dreamily he watched a street sign go by. Huh. Bad neighborhood. It was getting rather difficult to
keep both hands on the wheel. For some reason his left hand kept slipping off. He passed several
buildings, dark and silent. There was a general impression of cracked glass and boarded up
windows. Street lights and building lights appeared to be optional.

The old habits of self-preservation caused him to check the rearview mirror and scan the shadows.
A place like this, a car weaving and swerving all over the road was like blood in the water to
sharks. But the streets were deserted. The early hours of the morning coupled with the sleet
downpour made even the most die-hard criminals want to stay in bed.
Good thing too, because his last few wisps of energy were depleted. He managed to hold on until
he found an alley, black as pitch, and drove into it, drained to the bone. He turned the car off and,
lying down on the front seat, he reached down to the floor and began to pick up Minion from the
floor.
Sir, lock the doors, he urged.
Megamind did so robotically, without even complaining, which frightened Minion almost as much
as anything else that had happened this ghastly night.
Megamind picked up Minion, pulled the trench coat over his legs, and lay down, curling around
Minion in a huddle, shivering.
I don't feel very good, he whispered. Think I'm gonna pass out now. After a moment he
mumbled, Min'n. Ever tell you. Fantastic fish.
Minions eyes filled with tears. Sir, do you want some water? Sir?
There was no answer.
Minion listened to the soft pattering of the sleet hitting the windows. He pressed himself against
the curve of the bowl and listened to Sir's ragged breathing. After a while he relaxed a little, but
only a little. He hadn't heard any bubbling sounds, which he'd read could happen if a lung got
punctured.
He ached all over. The places where his scales had been scraped off burned and throbbed.
Megamind groaned in his sleep.
Minion set his jaw. Next time, I'm goin' for Corbin's throat, he thought grimly.
------A couple of hours later, the unluckiest thief in Metro City spotted the car as he trudged home from
a party. His hangover hadn't quite gotten its claws into him yet, and the car was in a secluded area
and looked to be easy pickings, especially when he got closer and saw that the driver's side
window was open a crack.
He got his fingers around the edge and forced it down, pausing when he got a good look inside.
The coat that had been carelessly tossed over the front seat seemed to have someone sleeping
under it, and then he heard the growl.
He had just enough time to think 'dog', when a disembodied head leaped out of the sleeping
figure's arms in an explosion of water and bit his ear off.
Minion fell on the trench coat that covered Megaminds legs when the man hit his head on the
ceiling. The fading screams filled him with a grim satisfaction. Guess I showed him!
He spat, then wriggled painfully back into the containment unit. Blecch. He'd had enough of
biting people for one day, really.

Rude Awakenings
Chapter Summary

The morning after.

Caution: chapter contains description of severed body part. (I'm probably being
overcautious, but there it is.)

Chapter Notes

"I've had a perfectly wonderful evening, and this wasn't it." -Groucho Marx

Nudge.
Sir?
Nudge.
Sir, wake up.
A couple of slightly harder nudges touched off a miniature nova of pain in his chest.
Sir, please. There's been sort of...um...an incident. You have to wake up.
The ping pong ball of consciousness made a few passes back and forth inside his skull, and
quickly blossomed into one mother of a headache. His eyelids squeezed shut a little harder, which
wrinkled the skin of his forehead, which made his entire face hurt. He opened his mouth and said:
...
Parched did not even come close to describing how his mouth and throat felt. He would have to
invent a new word, one that meant so-dry-you'd-have-to-add-water-just-to-even-get-anywherenear -parched was how parched his throat felt.
He swallowed and whimpered, face crinkling with pain. His throat. Like knives.
Automatically he reached up with a leaden hand and hissed in a tight breath as his fingertips
touched the bruises that circled his neck. All these little movements triggered a cascade of
escalating pain throughout his body. Only his right arm seemed to be free of complaints, mainly
because it had fallen asleep, and his feet had turned to wood.
Uuurrrhn, he wheezed. Ah, there was his voice. He swallowed again, wincing.
An arctic wind shot up his back. He clawed at the blanket and yanked it up to his chin, shivering.
Sir, I hate to wake you, Minion's muffled voice said from somewhere around his armpit, but

we really, really need to leave.

Koze z'door, he whispered. What the hell was wrong with this blanket? It was so stiff. Nothing
felt right, his teeth felt like they'd been freeze-dried and covered in moss, and Minion had left the
damn door open. He wondered why they were sharing a bed again. Minion must've had a
nightmare. Or something.
Sir, I can't, Minion said. I don't have any arms. Remember?
The tremor of worry in Minion's voice, along with his cryptic remark about not having arms,
wormed its way into his head and wouldn't leave. He cracked open one crusted eye. Gray light
shone through the windows. And that wasn't right either. The lair didn't have windows.
He moved his leg and his foot thumped against a molded plastic panel covered with vinyl. What
was a car door doing at the foot of his bed? He couldn't remember doing any extra detailing lately.
He'd figure it out later. If he lay really still, he could just drift, and maybe even fall asleep again.
But Minion better get himself back in that robot suit and get that door closed.
A stream of water hit him in the neck and soaked his shirt.
Hurh! Augh! he panted, flinging back the blanket. Minion peered at him sheepishly.
Ready to go, Sir? he quavered.
What'd you do that for? he croaked. Geez, he sounded like a...crow...
Corbin.
Disjointed images drifted through his head. He raised a hand to his throbbing jaw and looked at
the bandage on his left arm, stiff with blood.
The woods. Ulrich and his slashing claws. Sudoku. The marathon chase with half the city's police
force on his heels. Metro Man's stupid smirk. Wachowski's fist, he was a lefty, there was a
wedding ring on it, Megamind had gotten a good look at it, repeatedly. Corbin's livid, toothmarked face, promising extreme pain and possible dismemberment, as Megamind flipped him off
and gunned the engine and left him behind in a cloud of exhaust...
Sleet pattered against the windshield. Some came in the open window and landed on the trench
coat covering his legs. Not his usual fluffy blanket, then. A coat, stolen from Bates.
He gazed blearily at the unfamiliar dashboard. A car. Not the lair.
The confused memories of the previous night's events slowly tumbled into place. No wonder
Minion didn't have any arms. The robot suit had been confiscated by the feds, the de-gun taken by
the police.
But he had another gun, didn't he? Where was the semi-automatic?
Slowly he propped himself on his tingling right arm. Minion helpfully rolled into the space under
his arm to try to lever him up.
My head, he whispered. Hurts. Everything hurt, really. The head was merely a convenient
starting point. His torso felt like one giant bruise.
Up we go, there we are, Minion said in a sing-songy way, and wedged the containment unit a

little more firmly under his armpit so he couldnt lie down again. Megaminds ribs throbbed in
protest.
Ow, he muttered. Minion grimaced apologetically.
Megamind shifted his frozen feet out from under the coat onto the floor, first one then the other,
and began to raise himself more or less upright.
Water bottles are on the floor, Sir. They sort of slid off. So up, up, up we get, Minion said with
forced cheer.
Not the sing-songy voice, Minion. I hate the sing-songy voice, he mumbled, then glanced down
and froze.
Something small and pale lay on the black fabric of the trench coat.
The chill started somewhere at the base of his spine and worked its way upward, and it had
nothing to do with the wind that buffeted in through the window.
Minion had said there was an incident. This had incident written all over it.
Is that an ear? he whispered.
Minion fluttered his fins in mingled pride and embarrassment. Umm, well, yes. Half an ear,
anyway.
Oh. Yes. Half an ear, important distinction, he said hoarsely. None of his jumbled memories
included severed ears. At least it wasn't one of his ears. Whose was it?
Because, see, I think my bottom incisor sort of caught it at an angle, Minion said helpfully.
Megamind stared at it. This needed close watching. What if it fell on the floor? What if he stepped
on it?
Wasn't that much blood, at least if...
If you are trying to make me throw up, you are doing a wonderful job, Megamind croaked.
Oh! Heh heh. Sorry, Sir.
So, this incident. What---
Some guy got the window down and tried to get in, but I stopped him, Sir. Stopped him good.
Minion nodded firmly.
Well done. Yes. Fine, he said in a slightly too high voice. The thing was lying on the coat and
the coat was lying on his legs. Touching him.
Megamind eased out from under the coat, calculating the distance to the window. He could try
flipping it out, but what if he missed and the thing hit the edge and bounced right back in? He
needed a larget opening.
Carefully standing on the seat, holding onto the ceiling as a wave of dizziness threatened to send
him tumbling, he stepped one foot over towards the driver's side door, taking care to avoid as
much contact with the air molecules surrounding the ear as possible. Balancing on the seat he
shifted his weight so he could bend down and reach the door handle. Grabbing hold of the
dashboard under the steering wheel, he groped for the door handle with the other one. His left

dashboard under the steering wheel, he groped for the door handle with the other one. His left
hand felt like it belonged to somebody else, but after a few clumsy grabs he snagged the handle
and pushed the door open. Carefully he stepped back over the coat, gripped the edge of it and,
with a firm flipping motion, sent Minion's horrible trophy sailing out into the alley.
Shuddering, he swung the door closed and rolled up the window, swallowing bile. He dragged
the coat over himself again, even though it was contaminated with ear germs.
Water, he mumbled.
Right there, Sir. Remember? Minion nodded down at the six pack of water splayed on the floor
on the passenger side, the dark shape of Corbin's gun lying next to it.
Megamind put the gun back on the seat and pulled a bottle off its plastic loop. Twisting the cap off
made spots dance across his vision but he got it off and lifted the bottle. Tilting his head back was
almost impossible. His neck was killing him. Swallowing hurt too, but more like emery boards
instead of knives, so that was an improvement. He tried to go slowly, but soon he was chugging it.
Not so fast! Minion said.
The water burned cold all the way down but he didn't stop until the bottle was empty. Tossing it
aside he curled up against the window, pulled the coat up to his shoulders, and leaned his aching
head against the cold glass. Engaging in just the right amount of shallow breathing was about all
he could handle at the moment.
Minion rolled the containment unit against his hip. Sir, can we go now?
Tired, Megamind mumbled. If he could just get this pick-ax out of his skull maybe he could
string a few thoughts together.
Minion nudged him again.
If you do that one more time, Megamind growled without opening his eyes, I am going to
throw you out on your ear.
We need to get out of here, Sir, Minion said. Maybe that robber won't come back, but
someone's gonna be at least a little curious! And...and I think there's gravel under my scales. And
I'm cold, too, Sir. Minion didn't like to complain, but it had been a long night. He hadn't been
able to sleep at all, and he was growing increasingly worried about their situation because, after
all, it wasn't like ears got bitten off every day. Someone was bound to wonder. Plus he was pretty
sure there was some gravel trapped under his scales. He could feel something little and pebbly
moving under his skin every time he stirred his fins.
I think...I think we should go visit one of our uncles. You know, just for a little bit! he said
hastily, as Megamind scowled at him. Maybe Uncle Julio or Vic or Pudge. Or Harry. We need to
go someplace warm.
Megamind gave him a calculating look. Harry Chambers? he said. When did he get out?
A week ago, I think.
Oh yes. He was up for parole. Megamind would have raised an eyebrow at Minion but even his
darn eyebrows hurt. And you just happen to know all of our parolee uncles' phone numbers and
addresses, do you? Despite my assertion that we do not nor ever shall require the assistance of
anyone, ever?
Minion fidgeted. Um, maybe, yes. I just might happen to know that sort of thing, yes, he said a

little defiantly.
Waiting for me to dig such a deep hole I couldn't get out with a power shovel, is that it?
Megamind thought, but didn't say. Minion always looked for safety valves.
He watched the sleet solidifying on the windshield. He wasnt the only one hurting. Huge red
scrapes ran down the faithful ichthyoids side and under his belly, complimenting the dark green
bruise on the side of his head. Megamind knew that they couldnt sit there forever. If there was
gravel under Minions skin it would have to be taken out, and soon.
Not Uncle Vic, he said eventually. He'd turn in his own mother for a sub sandwich. Let me
think about it for a moment.
He lifted his head as a couple of people appeared at the end of the alley, shuffling and gesturing.
One of them lifted an arm in their direction. They could have been just people meeting by chance
on the street. Out for a little walk on this cold, icy morning. He gripped the steering wheel and
straightened up.
What is it, Sir?
Company, Megamind muttered. Whether they were friends of the one-eared burglar or curiosity
seekers, or innocent passersby (ha! not likely in this neighborhood) it mattered not.
His teeth flashed in a brief grin as he looked at Minion. No rest for the wicked. Hang on,
Minion.
Hang on to what? Minion muttered, then the containment unit lurched as Megamind gunned the
engine and threw the car into drive. The curiosity seekers scattered. The car shot out of the alley
and disappeared around the corner.
-----The warden awoke and lay staring at the ceiling for a long time, sinuses pounding. He never could
sleep in, even on a weekend, even when he was sick. This was shaping up to be the worst sinus
infection he'd ever had.
The bed felt colder with Joyce gone. Gone back to the hospital, two days ago. She'd been better
for a short while, to the point where they'd even resumed a physical relationship, and every night
became a brief, welcome respite from the drama that dominated their lives.
He'd almost felt happy again.
Then she turned inward again, and said she didn't feel right, and could no longer muster the
energy to get out of bed, and their daughter Melanie called him at work to tell him that Joyce had
asked to be taken back to the hospital.
Was it him? Was he just so difficult to live with that he'd driven his wife crazy? Melanie was
shocked that he even voiced such doubts.
Dad, of course not! she'd cried, and talked at length about hormonal imbalances and
medications and whatnot. And he nodded and tried to listen. She was pre-med, after all, but he
couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he simply was not doing enough.
He felt like he'd been stamping out fires for the past twenty years. He'd put one out and another
would flare up. Failure stared him in the face at every turn. He tried to provide a stable existence
for Melanie and Sammy, and hoped like hell they established lives for themselves and got away
from the chaos that had engulfed their older brother Dan, their mother, and, of course, their odd

little foster brother, who even now was wreaking havoc wherever he went.
He swung his legs off the bed and shuffled into his slippers and out into the hall. His seventeen
year old son Sammy closed the door to his bedroom, grunted 'good morning' and began to go
down the stairs.
You're up early, Parker mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Then he frowned at the phone receiver
lying on the hall table next to its cradle. You do this? Why is the phone off the hook?
Mel did it. She said you needed rest, Sammy said over his shoulder. It seemed to Parker that
Sammy stomped down the stairs with unnecessary roughness, but that was probably because
every footstep pounded him in the brain. He hung up the phone and went into the bathroom.
When he came out again, the phone was ringing.
You are a hard man to get a hold of, the irritated voice on the other end snapped.
Good morning to you too, Mr. Bentley, Parker sighed. Any day he got a call from a member of
the Alien Oversight Committee was a bad day. It is a Saturday after all. I---
It is imperative that we revisit your security measures immediately, Bentley interrupted.
Parker rubbed his forehead. And this couldn't wait until Monday?
Bentley snorted. I need to be able to tell the mayor that our prison is capable of holding him,
especially since we still don't know how he got out of his cell in the first place! While you sit there
twiddling your thumbs, he could be waltzing out the prison doors again!
Parker let his hand fall to his side. Again? Bentley's outraged tone was finally sinking in.
What? You mean...they caught him?
Bentley exploded. Good Lord, man! It's all over the news! Haven't you heard anything? Metro
Man captured him when he tried to blow up a warehouse in the wee hours of the morning! Or a
bakery. Or maybe it was a shoe store. I fear the exact details escape me at the moment, but
nevertheless, for a man who claims to be so concerned about this delinquent, you seem competely
incapable of keeping up with current events. I must say, warden, if you can't stay on top of things,
then I say it's high time...
Call you back, Parker muttered, and hung up on the squawking Bentley. He floated downstairs
in a daze.
Sammy lay on the couch with a bowl of cereal on his chest, watching cartoons. Parker took the
remote and began flipping channels.
Hey! Sammy protested. Parker ignored him.
The picture of an anchorwoman appeared on screen. ...minor injuries, and were released. Metro
Man is credited with preventing the spread of the fire to nearby buildings. The picture on the
screen changed to show a grainy video of Metro Man lifting a tanker truck into the sky amidst
billowing smoke. The picture changed to a firefighter.
Yeah, if that tanker had gone up, it woulda been pretty bad, he said. There was a burning car
next to it. The guys from the warehouse had it pretty well contained, but...
Parker kept flipping channels in a flurry of impatience.

...confusion, Officer Griffin was shot by one of her fellow...

...anonymous tip led to...
...laser vision to seal the leak, and prevented another two thousand gallons of molasses from
flooding the...
Something happen Dad? Sammy grumbled. What'd the twerp do this time?
They caught him. But where is he? Parker muttered. Did they catch Minion too?
Melanie walked into the living room with her car keys in hand, pulling on her coat. Oh Dad, I
made an appointment for you at the walk-in clinic for 10:30. I need to run to the store, can I get...
Parker tossed the remote at Sammy. You let me sleep through all of this? Taking the phone off
the hook? While all this is going on?
Melanie's eyes widened, startled.
They caught the twerp, I guess, Sammy muttered.
Quit calling him that, Parker snapped. He rounded on Melanie again. I had to hear about it
from Bentley of all people! What, the cops couldn't send someone to the house? Why didn't you
wake me?
I haven't even heard...I haven't... Melanie gasped.
Parker stormed out of the room.
Slowly she sank onto one of the easy chairs. Sammy lifted his spoon and let the soggy cereal drip
back into the bowl. They could hear their father shouting into the kitchen phone.
Nice try, Mel, Sammy said, turning the channel back to the cartoon he'd been watching.
Maybe if you start a meth lab in the basement or mug a few people he'll start paying attention to
you.
She glared at him. Aren't you a little old for cartoons? Grow up already.
With a jingle of keys she got to her feet and hurried out of the house.
When I graduate I am so out of here, Sammy muttered.

Safe Haven
Chapter Notes

"Overexcited? No! I'm getting very calmly worried that someone might shoot me!" Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, Good Omens

Wayne carefully closed the door to his room and took a few steps down the hall before rising into
the air. He didn't really feel like flying but he soared lightly over the thick carpeting, so he
wouldn't disturb Mom and Dad. He was so big that he sometimes made the floor creak, and he
didn't want to awaken them. He had used his super hearing just long enough to hear that they
were still asleep, their breathing steady and deep, and then he tuned them out. He was very careful
about using his super senses in the house, since he'd accidentally seen and heard them being
intimate a couple of times, and did not want to repeat the experience. Spying was Very Bad.
But he really wanted to avoid his father, at least for a little while.
It had been a very unpleasant scene when he flew back into his room last night. Well, it was really
very early in the morning, and he hadn't bothered scanning his room before entering, so he'd been
surprised to see his father sitting on his bed, there in the dark, and his mother, arms crossed across
her stomach and looking worried.
Lord Scott gave him a stony look. Snow emergency's over, Wayne, he said. Explain why you
have broken curfew. I am dying to hear all about it.
Wayne swallowed. I had to help, people needed me, Dad, there was an explosion, and I caught
Megamind, he said all in a rush.
Oh, Lady Scott lifted a hand to her mouth. Lord Scott sighed heavily and pursed his lips. And
it was worth breaking your word? he said.
Wayne felt his stomach sink into his new white boots. Didn't the fact that he'd caught the guy who
vandalized their house mean anything? Heart beginning to pound in his ears, he squared his
shoulders. This was it.
When people call for help, I'm going to answer that call, he said quietly. Curfew or no
curfew. Holding his father's gaze was the hardest thing he'd ever done, and he'd once lifted an
entire building off its foundation.
Lord Scott looked at him for a moment, then he got up and left the room. Lady Scott walked over
to Wayne and laid a hand on his forearm.
I'm very proud of you, Wayne. Very proud, she whispered and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. He
automatically leaned down a little so she could reach his cheek. Thanks, Mom, he murmured.
And he meant it, he really appreciated her support, he really did, but his father's stony silence
weighed more heavily on his heart than the anchorage of the Mackinac Bridge he'd once saved
from collapse.

Wayne walked through the living room, turning on the television as he went by, but he kept the
volume low. He'd be able to hear it from anywhere in the house. He headed into the kitchen,
stomach rumbling. He could have used his X-ray vision to see what was in the fridge without
opening it, but that wasn't as satisfying as physically opening the door and rummaging around all
the containers, even though his dad was forever grumbling that he left the door open for too long,
and why didn't he just use his X-ray vision and save a little on electricity?
Peering into a Tupperware container, he straightened in surprise as a familiar name caught his ear.
He turned and went back out to the living room to look at the somber anchorwoman on the screen,
who had a smaller picture of a grinning Megamind over her shoulder.
Megaminds whereabouts are unknown, but he he was last spotted heading south on Highway
10, and is believed to still be in the city. He is considered armed and extremely dangerous. If you
see Megamind, do not approach, but leave the area immediately and contact police. And now,
back to the weather.
Wayne frowned, chewing on a leftover sandwich. That was weird.
---Dr. Ritchi turned off the television. That's it. You are not going skating.
God, Dad! Roxanne cried, slamming her spoon down on the kitchen table. She turned to her
mother, standing by the sink. Mo-o-om!
Mrs. Ritchi grimaced and shook her head, but she kept her back to the counter, gripping it with
both hands. I don't think it's a good idea either, honey.
This is totally sexist, said Roxanne, getting to her feet.
Oh, don't be ridiculous, Mrs. Ritchi said in exasperation.
How, exactly, is this sexist? Dr. Ritchi said, sighing irritably.
You're not making Nathan stay home, Roxanne said, pointing at her eleven year old brother.
You let him do whatever he wants!
Nathan looked up from his dirt bike magazine. I do what? he said, blinking.
Nate's not the one getting stalked.
I'm not either! Roxanne yelled. It was a total coincidence!
Well, until these 'coincidences' stop, said Dr. Ritchi, we're just going to have to keep you a
little more close to home.
Mrs. Ritchi clasped her hands together and took a step toward her. Roxanne, we... she said, then
sighed and let her hands fall to her sides as her daughter hurried out of the room.
Roxanne had a feeling that girls who were fighting sexist stereotypes probably shouldn't burst into
tears and run out of the room when they didn't get their way, but it was so unfair.
She slammed the door to her bedroom but managed to not fling herself across the bed. That would
be so typical. Stereotypical. She paced around the room, scrubbing angrily at the tears running
down her face, then she got her journal out of the desk, curled up on the bed, and wrote in it until
she felt better.

How could he be stalking her? Ridiculous! Okay, that night at the high school was kind of weird.
But after dissecting the event in excruciating detail with her friends, they'd all come to the
conclusion that it really was all a big, weird coincidence. Megamind was probably trying to steal
the school's computers or something, and they'd stumbled across his little break-in attempt. When
Minion came charging out of the shadows they'd just about peed their pants!
After they'd gotten over their fright, Roxanne felt as if the whole thing took on the feel of a trip
through a haunted house, or even a roller coaster. Scary, but nothing truly dangerous. Her friends
had, she felt, gone on and on about it a little too long, to the point where she began to get annoyed
with them. They'd teased her about having an alien admirer, but they were just kidding. Actually,
she wished they would knock it off. For a moment she was glad that she wasn't going skating with
Cheryl after all. She often greeted her with a smarmy grin and asked if she'd heard from her secret
admirer lately.
Roxanne's teeth clenched. Her parents were so aggravating! After that close encounter at the high
school, her dad had totally freaked out, insisting on driving her to school every morning and
picking her up afterwards, and not letting her go anywhere. It was so stupid! Like she was
grounded. After a few days his vigilance waned, and things got back to normal, though he'd
badger her about safety and protecting herself whenever the little blue monster did something that
got him on the news.
One good thing about the whole escapade was that her parents had gotten her a cell phone, for
emergencies. Now that was awesome, though her dad seemed to think it was as fragile as an egg
and lectured her about not dropping it. She was the first one of all her friends to get one.
Roxanne cast a look at the closed door of her bedroom, then put on Natalie Merchant CD. She
dug the phone out of her purse and dialed Cheryl's number.
Later there was a very unpleasant scene when Cheryl and her big sister pulled up down the street
and her parents caught Roxanne sneaking out of the house. She got plenty of time to write about it
in her journal.
----The reporters gathered in the Federal Building did not immediately recognize John Parker, but a
man with three prison guards who walks into a lobby full of reporters is bound to get noticed. A
few heads turned towards them, then one of them did a double take and called out:
Warden! Can you tell us anything about Megamind's escape?
Oh, he had plenty to say about the supposed escape attempt, but not to them. Hearing about it on
the radio he could only hope that it was some kind of mistake. The boy couldn't possibly have
escaped already, could he? From trained federal agents? And if it was a mistake, had something
worse happened? He brushed past the reporters, with Security Chief Schmidt and the two other
guards helping to make a shield around him, and walked briskly to the polished granite front desk.
Gary Winslow was a loyal, hard-working government employee and probably did not deserve to
be the recipient of Parker's wrath. He'd been instructed to say 'no comment' to the press, but no
one had briefed him on what to say to the angry man claiming to be Megamind's father. Who
knew the alien even had a father?
I would like to know, if my son really has been taken into custody, why I was not notified! My
phone may have been out of order, but you could have sent someone to the house! That's proper
procedure when a minor is arrested, correct?

Yes, sir, Winslow said gloomily, gripping the edge of the security desk to keep his hands from
fidgeting. He reached for the phone. I think this is a matter best handled by the director? If you'll
just hold on for... Parker looked up, and Winslow turned in his seat.
Oh, there's the director now, he said with relief. If you would ...hey!
Parker strode past the desk and down the hall towards the group of people that had gotten off the
elevator. Schmidt jerked his head at the other two guards and hurried after him. They exchanged
grimaces, and followed with reluctance. They didn't feel they were getting paid enough to trespass
on federal property, but they'd have to face Schmidt later if they didn't.
Mr. Lewis! the warden said loudly to catch his attention, and Matt Lewis looked up at him in
alarm, his eyes wide behind thick glasses. He made a small gesture and one of the men began to
slip to the back, but Parker, with a sudden sense of foreboding, marched right around the group
and stopped the man before he could fade away.
He stared, shocked, at Agent Corbin. A tremendous purple bruise covered his forehead and
stitches marched crazily over his swollen right cheek, across the bridge of his nose and down the
other side, and over his upper lip, as if someone had tried to stamp a big gory clown smile on him
but he had turned his head aside too quickly. His nose was so red it almost glowed.
Parker felt a hand close firmly on his arm and he tore his gaze away to look at Director Lewis.
Mr. Parker, if you would come this way, please? he said. It wasn't really a request, but Parker
damn well wasn't going to be led off into some little room to get talked quietly at. Lewis was using
a special, careful voice, the I'm-sorry-for-your-loss sort of voice that Parker himself had to use on
some occasions, and he wasn't having any of it. On top of everything else he'd forgotten to take
any painkillers before rushing out of the house and his sinuses were killing him. Dread blossomed
in his stomach, and grew. Were they in the hospital? Were they...
He pulled his arm out of Lewis's grip. Tell me what's going on right now.
Lewis cast an unhappy glance toward the lobby, where the members of the press were lingering
just beyond the front desk with ears cocked and eyes strained.
I'm afraid that your ward and his friend escaped from custody a few hours ago, he said quietly.
Agents Corbin and Bates were severely injured.
Parker looked at Corbin again, who lifted an ice pack to his forehead. Bandages covered his
knuckles.
You hurt your hand on his face? Parker said.
The patches of color on Corbin's face turned even darker. He stepped so close to Parker their
noses almost touched.
You see this? See this? Corbin said, jabbing his finger at the fresh scars. Little freak shoved a
goddamn piranha in my face!
Maybe you'd like to take a swing at me? Someone closer to your own size, Parker said. For a
second he hoped he would. He hits me, I'm pressing charges, Parker thought, blood roaring in his
ears. He hits me I'm...probably going to the hospital, the more sensible part of him chimed in.
Parker's main form of exercise was pacing, while the size of Corbin's neck veins indicated that he
got a lot of healthy, violent exercise on a regular basis.
Schmidt grabbed him by the shoulder and arm. John, step back, he said urgently. This doesn't

help.
Hands pulled at Corbin as well, and the two angry men were separated, glaring at each other.
Parker was damned if he was going to break eye contact! Minion must have been severely
provoked to have bitten someone in the face. Corbin finally turned away to listen to the angry
whispering from the FBI director.
Yeah, get your stories straight, Parker thought furiously. Make sure you're on the same page.
I demand to speak to his superior, Parker said. That would be you?
Lewis shook his head as if it pained him to admit it, and pushed his glasses up his nose. No. The
FBI doesn't have authority over DPI.
Parker's head throbbed. Then who's the DPI director?
There was a tense silence. Then Lewis cleared his throat. Because of staff limitations, it so
happens that Agent Corbin is currently the acting director of the local DPI branch.
A field agent, who also happened to be the head of the department? Well, isn't that convenient,
Parker said quietly. They glared at each other for a moment, then Parker turned and strode back to
the lobby, past his guards, past the front desk.
Excuse me, you're Robert Chang, aren't you? he said, walking up to the first familiar face.
Yes, sir, that's right, KMCP News, said Robert Chang, reporter's senses tingling, quickly
straightening his tie. Parker gravely shook his outstretched hand. His cameraman swung the
camera around, poised and ready. The rest of the media people edged closer, inexorably drawn by
the scent of a scoop.
Parker introduced himself, then the reporter interrupted with an apologetically raised hand. Do
you mind if I interview you on tape, sir?
Not at all, Parker said. With a fierce smile he gestured back at the knot of stony faced agents and
the horrified Schmidt and the prison guards.
I've just been informed that my fifteen year old foster son overpowered two armed, experienced
federal agents and escaped. Isn't that amazing?
What is your son's name, sir? Robert asked, lifting the microphone.
Officially John Doe, but we all call him Blue, Parker said brightly. You know him better as
Megamind, but I've never cared for that. He was going to pour as much human interest on this
story as possible.
Is that why you're all here? To listen to what Director Lewis has to say? said Parker. There are
a few questions I'd like to ask him myself. Not to mention the agents who were supposedly
bringing Megamind here for questioning. How is it that a fifteen year old boy, who probably
weighs about eighty pounds I might add, how is it that...
Excuse us, ladies and gentlemen! Schmidt said loudly, grabbing Parker by the elbow. The
warden is ill.
Schmidt buoyed him away from the crowd. Furious, Parker tried to twist out of his grip, but
Schmidt had years of experience at subduing unruly inmates and easily propelled him through the
big double door and out onto the front steps.

While the wind whipped sleet into their faces Schmidt hissed, Would you quit burning every
goddamn bridge? Think about your career! You have to work with these people, not feed some
sob story to the press!
Since being calm and reasonable hasn't been working, I figured getting mad as hell is worth a
shot! Parker snapped. Did you see his face?
Schmidt shuddered. You could probably see it from Lansing. Just think, that could've happened
to me. Or you, he added pointedly.
Parker gaped. Are you serious?! You really think he would set Minion on somebody like that
because he's afraid of going back to prison?
Schmidt narrowed his eyes. He was obviously desperate, John.
But why? Parker cried. Why was he so desperate? It doesn't make any sense! And risking
Minion's life? Just to escape? Corbin had probably gone ballistic, getting a pointy-toothed fish
shoved in his face. Hell, anybody would. Blue and Minion must have known that. Blue wouldn't
have risked Minion getting stomped just on a whim. The boy he knew could not have mutilated a
man just to make an escape. Not Blue. There had to be another reason. There had to.
Schmidt snorted. Maybe you don't know him as well as you think.
Parker looked at Walter Schmidt's set jaw. The boy had been desperate, Parker was sure of it, as
sure as he was of the sleet soaking through his coat. He was going to have a hard time convincing
anyone of that, though.
Do you remember when he filled that balloon with cherry pie filling and dumped it on your
head? he said.
It had certainly been an unforgettable incident. Only Parker's intervention had saved the boy from
a thrashing from Schmidt's belt. The security chief's face hardened. What's your point, warden?
He could have filled that balloon with something a lot worse. Battery acid or something. But he
didn't. Of course, battery acid might have eaten right through the balloon, but Parker pressed on.
What I'm trying to say is that it was essentially a harmless prank. They've all been pretty
harmless.
Those explosions weren't harmless, Schmidt said. Blasted right through the wall. The one in
the kitchen blew the doors off two freezers! And he just said he wanted to see if you could make
flour explode.
But no one was injured! He usually made sure no one was around.
Schmidt looked ready to point out that this was probably because the boy didn't want anyone
raising inconvenient questions along the lines of 'Hey, what're you doing, kid?' so Parker again
hurried on. You really think that Blue would orchestrate a vicious, violent attack for no reason?
Schmidt looked away and sighed. I don't know, John. But the evidence is all over that guy's
face. He shook his head. I know you want to get him back in one piece, but you better have
some idea of what you're getting back. It beat Schmidt why his friend John cared so much about
this delinquent, but the warden had a soft spot for the boy, and he took his responsibilities as
guardian pretty seriously, while all Megamind did, as far as Schmidt could tell, was spit in his eye.
Something is not right, Parker insisted. They are not telling the truth. He scowled through the
glass at the federal agents, and Lewis talking to the reporters. Telling them of the escape of the

dangerous alien fugitives, no doubt. Agent Corbin was nowhere to be seen.

Schmidt snorted. You know, you're probably the only one left in town who still thinks he's just a
misunderstood rascal with a little too much energy. What, you think they're hiding him
somewhere?
I don't know! But I'm going to find out. When he went to go back in, Schmidt grabbed his
shoulder.
Wait. Hold on. The security chief sighed heavily. Believe it or not, I don't want to see him get
killed either, him or Minion. But right now, you got to focus on the facts, Schmidt said. Don't
make any wild accusations. The kid's gone, however or why ever it happened, and they screwed
up big time, first by not contacting you, even if your phone was off the hook, that's no excuse,
they should have sent someone to your house. And lettin' a scrawny kid escape? That's gotta burn.
They're gonna have to tell you something. So you go back in there, and make nice. Tell the
friendly reporters that you've been sick...
For God's sake, Walt, what am I, an old man? Parker snapped.
Schmidt raised an admonishing hand. You are sick, I can hear you wheezin', so just say you got
all worked up, you didn't really mean to call them a bunch of incompetent yahoos, but you're sure
the agents are doing the best they can, it's a tough job, yadda, yadda. Then go with Lewis, listen to
what he has to say.
I'm not going to like it. Whatever it is, Parker grumbled.
Of course you're not gonna like it. That's when you sic your lawyer on 'em. Schmidt grinned.
See? It all works out.
As soon as the warden walked into the lobby, the microphones swung away from the FBI director
and came his way. And he went through the motions and retracted his earlier, hasty statements,
said that he was sure the feds were doing they best they could, no doubt they had done everything
correctly and above board. Worries gnawed away in the back of his mind, while his mouth
worked by itself, delivering vague responses to the questions.
Where were they? Were they all right?
---I don't need any help, Megamind said.
Right. All right, the pharmacist said. The tip of the gun was very close. He could see straight
down the barrel. He tried to uncross his eyes. You don't need any help.
If you try to take Minion again, you will regret it, Megamind said calmly, as if stating the most
simple of facts.
I hear you, he said. If he nodded the gun might go up his nose.
If you must perform an act of goodwill, you can collect the following items for me. Are you
listening? I would hate to have to repeat myself.
I'm listening. The pharmacist focused hard. It was rather difficult to think of anything other than
whether he would ever see his wife and children again.
Six compress dressings, adhesive tape, two cloth tapes, tweezers, antiseptic...

The items were standard ingredients for a first aid kit, fortunately, and easy for the pharmacist to
remember.
...and ibuprofen. Lots of ibuprofen. You have tetracycline? Good. Some of that. And baby
aspirin. Proceed. The man hurried down the aisle to gather the items. Minion, in the crook of
Megamind's arm, gazed up at his master's intent face with some concern. He had refused to leave
Minion alone in the car, though it meant his hands would be full. Minion was touched by this
show of devotion, but it was also worrying.
I think he was trying to get you to sit down, Sir, Minion murmured. He wasn't sure that Sir
realized how bad he looked. And not bad in a don't mess-with-me sort of way, either, it was more
like train-wreck bad.
He glanced at the knot of people huddled in the back of the store. The swift movements of the
pharmacist as he filled a plastic bag sounded unnaturally loud, even over the sound of the muzak
playing a tinny version of The Girl From Ipanema. One of the trapped customers pressed a wad
of tissues to her mouth in an attempt to stifle a wretched coughing fit.
He tried to take you, Minion, Megamind said, baring his teeth. A crack on his lip began
bleeding again.
Well, yes, but he might have been trying to be helpful, Minion said in what he hoped were
soothing tones. Tension vibrated off Sir like a heat wave.
No one is going to take you, Megamind growled.
No, no, I'm sure they won't, Minion muttered, glancing at the hostages. The customer ducked
her head into her coat and shook with restrained coughs.
Minion was grateful they got out of there before anyone got shot.
---The cockroaches in Harry Chambers's apartment scuttled across the floor, peacefully going about
their business. They froze at the knock on the door. When nothing happened, they resumed their
duties of looking for food, mates, and feeling for impending footsteps. After a moment they froze
again, antennae quivering, as the locks on the door rattled. It went on for some time. Again,
nothing happened, so they continued as they were before.
Cockroaches don't have much sense of the passage of time, being mainly concerned with the here
and now, and whether or not an approaching tread means sudden death, but if they did, they
would have noticed that a good fifteen minutes passed before the door was suddenly flung open.
They scattered. Megamind fell onto his hands across the threshold, then he reached around and
dragged the containment unit with Minion in it over the sill, snagged a plastic bag and the trench
coat with his wrist, crawled in, and pushed the door closed with his foot. Then, spent, he curled up
on the pale linoleum floor and closed his eyes, panting with shallow breaths.
Minion looked warily around the dark hallway, and at the cockroaches who were peeking around
with mild curiosity.
This floor, Megamind mumbled.
Minion glanced at him, but there didn't seem to be any more observations coming. The scrapes on
his side and belly ached. He cleared his throat miserably. Sir, I think you should get up off the

floor now, don't you think you can...

Is disgusting, Megamind said, dust poofing out away from his mouth, but he didn't open his
eyes.
Yes, yes, it is, Minion said, scowling at the cockroaches. One of them came closer and put a
little leg on Sir's outstretched hand. Minion scowled and rolled at it. It scurried away.
I could kill for some dry socks, Megamind mumbled. Holding onto the wall for support he got
to his feet, and gathered up Minion and the bag.
Don't turn on the light, Minion warned.
I know, Megamind said testily. No one's supposed to be home. Where is he, anyway?
They looked around at the dingy apartment, roughly the same size and shape as a shoebox. No
walls separated the rooms. Only the change from linoleum to flat brown carpet showed the
difference between the kitchen and the living room, which doubled as the bedroom. A mattress lay
in a corner, a tangle of blankets on it, and a mustard yellow plaid couch sat in the middle of the
room, facing a television set, also on the floor. Two boxes dribbled clothes next to the couch. A
half open door in the far corner revealed the sink of a cramped bathroom.
A gray rectangle of light from the kitchen window fell across a table with a warped surface and
two folding chairs. Plastic clamshell containers and dirty dishes sat next to the mildewed sink. A
great rust stain splashed up the side of the white refrigerator.
The murmur of a television from the apartment above was the only sound. The silence grated on
Megamind's nerves. He could not believe they were safe. It was too normal, too quiet. Surely it
was a trap, a trick. Any minute now the door would burst open and cops would come charging in,
shouting. Or worse, the feds, with the newly-scarred Corbin at their head...
The refrigerator sprang to life with a rattle, making him jump. He shook his head, disgusted with
himself. He couldn't stand there forever like some half-drowned cat!
He glanced back at the front door to see that he'd re-locked it, as if that would make any
difference. Then he padded across the creaking linoleum and set his burdens on the table, shunting
aside a pizza box. At least the grumbling refrigerator and the TV upstairs provided some cover
noise.
In the cupboard he found a plastic cup emblazoned with a logo for the Summerville Casino. It
hadn't taken long for Harry to get back to his old profession of losing as much money as possible.
Making a face at the reddish water that came out of the tap, he gulped down an ibuprofen, and
downed another whole glass, wincing at the sharp pain in his throat. There didn't seem to be
enough water in the world to slake his thirst. He felt like he'd drunk enough water to fill the lake
and he still didn't need to use the bathroom. Where was it all going?
He took the plastic drop cloth out of the bag and stretched it out on the table. And don't roll all
over it, he ordered Minion, propping the bag against the containment unit to prevent Minion from
doing just that. It has to be clean. Who knows what your containment unit has touched.
He washed his hands carefully with the dishwashing soap that was sitting on the back of the sink.
From all of the plates, wrappers, and plastic clamshell boxes piled on the counter, it looked like
Uncle Harry didn't use it much. He scrubbed about half a pound of grime out of his fingernails,
then sat down at the table and took the bandages and things out of the bag.
At least there was a gas stove. He took his time sterilizing the tweezers in the blue flame, and then

he went to wash his hands again.

Sir, maybe I should wait. Your arm needs...
Have to get that gravel out, Megamind said curtly, rinsing. The last thing you need is an
infection. I'm fine. Besides, he needed to get it done before he collapsed. His head and torso hurt
abominably, and his strength was coming and going in fits and starts. He had to gather his
resources for each task. He'd had a bad turn at the pharmacy, when he just sauntered into the place
in a daze, and only came out of it when he realized a man in a white coat was speaking in low
careful tones and trying to tug Minion out of his hands. Men in white lab-type coats was another
old nightmare. It was possible that he had overreacted.
The prison doctor had mentioned once that tetracycline could be safely used by both humans and
animals as well as sentient ichthyoids, so hed taken the tetracycline for Minion, just in case
circumstances prevented him from getting to the nearest pet store. But hed had some luck there.
The pet store in the strip mall next door to the pharmacy had been open and empty, so he walked
in swiftly, amid the shrill voices of the parakeets and a yapping dog, grabbed the bottle of Happy
Aquariums fish antibiotic, and left again, while a voice from the back room called, Ill be with
you in a minute.
The Happy Aquariums tetracycline powder would dissolve quickly in water, which was better for
Minion. He wouldve hated to try to figure out how much of the human tetracycline to give him.
In his current fuzzy state of mind he could barely calculate the antiderivative of a continuous
function, for crying out loud, let alone figure out how much medicine meant for a 150 pound
person to give to a four pound person.
At least the white patches that drifted in and out of his vision were beginning to clear up. He could
actually see Minion clearly now, whereas for most of the morning he'd felt like he was talking to a
cloud. One of these days he'd have to look up the symptoms of concussion. Not that it mattered.
He was sure he'd get over it.
Hed hidden the stolen car, then slipped through the alleys with the coat over his head, carrying
Minion and the pharmacy bag, gun stuck in his belt, scraping his hip raw. With the rain falling, he
hoped he looked like someone trying to keep dry, and not like some hunchbacked fugitive. It was
a neighborhood almost as shady as the one in which they'd spent the night, and the residents were
not likely to call the police for any reason short of bloodshed, though he did not want to test this
theory. People might make an exception in his case.
He kept telling himself there was just one more chore, just one more ...okay, now another one, last
one, promise... If he kept fooling himself, he could find enough energy for just one more thing, but
it was getting harder and harder. His body was beginning to catch on that there was no end to the
chores, and was preparing to go on strike.
He hobbled back to the table. Ready? All right, open up.
Lifting Minion out, he set him on the table, picked up the tweezers and got to work.
---It took several attempts to get the tiny stones out. Minion needed to go back into the containment
unit at regular intervals to catch his breath. When it was over, they were both trembling with stress
and nine bloody pebbles lay on the plastic.
Carefully he put a small dab of antibiotic ointment on part of the scrape.

I'll keep an eye on it for any bad reactions, Minion. If it looks all right, I'll apply some to the
entire scrape. Tell me if it feels different, or hurts worse. He lifted Minion back into his watery
home. The antibiotic wasn't designed for fish or ichthyoids and would need to be watched, but it
was probably better than nothing.
He broke open one of the bubbles on the blister pack of the fish medicine, and poured it into the
containment unit, then crushed one of the baby aspirins. Measuring one-eighth of a teaspoon onto
the tip of a spoon by sight, he fed it to Minion, who made a face at the taste. He took another
ibuprofen, though it didn't seem to be helping that much and he rubbed his sore eyes. One more
thing to take care of.
They looked at the bandaged arm. Megamind clenched his right hand into a fist in an attempt to
stop the shaking. He really did not want to see what was under there.
Soaking the stiff bandage under the tap helped only so much. Even after using the scissors to cut
through it, the hardened blood kept it stuck firmly to his arm.
The hell with this, Megamind muttered. He shuffled back to the table and sat down. He stuffed
one of the cloth roller bandages into his mouth.
Oh no, Minion gasped, eyes wide. Sir, you're not going to...please don't... run it under the
water a little...
Megamind gripped the edge of the bandage and braced himself.
Minion squeezed his eyes shut. He cringed at the muffled scream. The scattered first aid staples
pinged and clattered onto the table and floor as they flew off. Minion looked up as Megamind
staggered around the apartment cradling his arm, uttering muffled curses and sobs. After a while
he limped back and sat down, wiping his face on his shoulder, and spat out the roll-up. Minion
politely ignored the tears streaking his face.
Not too bad, Megamind whispered, hiccuping.
They stared at the arm in silence.
It really doesn't look too bad, Minion said in hushed tones.
Of course, Megamind whispered. My superior physiology, naturally.
His arm was swollen, but not as much as he'd feared, and very sore. The lacerations, though
blurred with old clots and oozing a little from the tearing off of the bandage, seemed to be bravely
scabbing over again. Megamind went back to the sink and held his arm under the tap, head resting
against his other shoulder, until he got the worst of the old blood rinsed off, then dried it with one
of the bandages. He came back to the table and put antibiotic on it, placed a clean pad over it, and
wrapped it up again.
Good as new in no time, Megamind whispered.
Sir?
Yes, Minion?
Why are we whispering?
He stared at Minion and then he began to shake.

Because no one's home! he whispered, voice cracking with merriment, and grabbed onto the
table to keep from sliding down onto the floor. Nobody here but John Doe! he giggled. There
was nothing funny about it, and his ribs and face hurt even more, but he clamped his teeth together
and silently laughed. Minion, too, giggled in near hysteria.
Ow, he said eventually, after the tremors finally died away.
S-sorry, Sir, Minion gasped.
The only thing that kept him from sinking to the floor and passing out right there was the
knowledge that the hard floor would feel pretty bad to his ribs. He collected Minion and hobbled
into the living room. He lay down on the sagging couch and tucked the gun under the cushion.
Minion he tucked into the crook of his arm.
I should have brought the coat for a blanket, he thought, but it was too much trouble to go all the
way back and get it, and soon he was asleep.
----The rain fell off and on throughout the day, shrinking the snow piles. People could see around and
over them now. As the gray day slowly dissolved into night the temperature fell, and the streets
and sidewalks froze, turning into ice rinks.
Harry Chambers hurried home from the bus stop three blocks away. He didn't mean to stay out so
late, but he was so close to getting a winning streak at the slot machines. He wanted to get home
before any muggers caught up to him. The two grocery bags in his arms grew heavy, and it was
with great relief that he climbed the last set of stairs, set one bag atop the other, and got the door to
his apartment open.
He'd put aside the grocery money in a locker, and had kept his resolve not to dip into it for any
gambling. Pacing himself, that was the ticket. He could keep it all under control, so long as he
kept to the budget.
He got the door locked again, and paused to rub his watery eyes against the damp collar of his
denim jacket. It seemed like he had allergies twelve months out of the year, nowadays. As he
turned his foot caught on a something lying on the floor. What the...? Had he dropped a towel?
Stepping away from it he went into the kitchen and put the bags on the counter, shoving back the
plates and old containers. He groped for the light switch, then stared at the black trench coat on the
floor. Looking around the kitchen his eyes grew wide with alarm at the plastic sheet with the
tweezers and the scattered bandages that lay on the table, at the kitchen sink spattered with gore.
The door had been locked when he came, hadn't it? There had been no signs of forced entry, but
he hadn't checked for any, either.
Then he saw the black boots sticking over the edge of the couch. The intruder was still in the
apartment. Heart thudding dully in his chest, he began to step back toward the door.
A voice floated out of the living room.
Uncle Harry, don't flip out, it's us.
Harry jumped, stifled a gasp, and clutched at his chest. Geez, Minion! You about gave me a heart
attack!
He strode into the living room and turned on the light. The three bare bulbs on the ceiling cast
harsh light across the couch and TV. Megamind lay on the couch on his side. Confused, Harry

looked around for Minion. The robot suit should have filled half the apartment but there was no
sign of it, and then he saw that Minion was cradled within Megamind's bandaged arm. Minion
blinked sheepishly at Harry.
Hesitantly Harry came closer. Minion nudged the containment unit against Megamind, who
grunted.
Sir? Sir, wake up, it's...
Harry began to bend over the boy and reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. The boy's eyes
fluttered open. Then in one swift movement, he rose on one elbow and a gun appeared in his
hand, pointed right at Harry's head.
Harry jerked his hands over his head. Blue, it's me, he gasped.
Sir, it's all right, Minion said frantically. It's Harry!
The blaze left Megamind's eyes. Oh, he said quietly, and he sank back against the couch again.
Oh. It's you. Hi, Uncle Harry. The gun disappeared back under the cushion.
Harry lowered his hands, breathing hard. He wasn't sure how many near-heart attacks he could
stand. What happened to you, man? Megamind had so many bruises he was purple and red,
with only a few spots of blue here and there. Everybody's looking for you! How did you get in?
Harry stopped himself. He was blabbering. Of course they knew everyone was looking for them.
Of course they'd sneaked in. These were stupid questions.
Feeling a little under the weather, Harry. Mind if we crash here a couple of days? It won't be
much longer than that, I promise.
Under the weather? Boy, you look like you got dragged under a truck, Harry said, getting down
on one knee to get a better look at his face. Megamind's eyes were sunken and dull, his lips
cracked and dry.
Few ice packs, I'll be fine, Megamind said. Now Harry saw that bruises circled the thin neck
like a collar, and it looked like bruises extended down under the torn shirt.
What happened? How bad is it? You get shot?
Don't be silly. A few contusions. I'll be right as rain in a few...
Better let me see. You look like you need a doctor.
Megamind's lip twitched and his eyes narrowed. I said I'll be fine.
Then let me see.
Megamind lay still for a few moments, then he rolled stiffly onto his back and lifted his shirt a little
ways. Harry gently moved the edge of the shirt up higher and sucked in his breath. Minion, who
was also getting his first look, also gasped.
The boy's torso was a solid sheet of purple and black.
His own ribs ached in sympathy. Noticing Megamind shivering, he laid the shirt down again. He
walked over to the thermostat and turned it up. He took the faded red quilt off his bed and laid it
over Megamind.

Hey, I can't see! Minion protested, squirming. Harry pulled it back enough so Minion could see
out, then turned on the TV, just to have something to do. It immediately opened on the nightly
news, which he did not want to learn about just then, so he changed the channel until he found
some bland sitcom. The boy's eyes were closed again, but Minion peered out at him anxiously.
Canned laughter erupted from the TV and he turned down the volume a little.
He'd heard about the boy's escape on TV. Armed and dangerous, they'd said, and believed to be
injured. But they never hinted at what those injuries were.
Blue, you need a doctor. He didn't have a phone. He'd have to use the pay phone on the corner.
No can do, Harry. And it's Megamind. Blue is a primary color.
But you could be bleeding in there.
I'm not. I promise.
You can't promise that, Harry said, exasperated. You don't know that! Something could be
broken.
Megamind sighed and began to sit up. If you call the hospital, then they will call the police. And
I will be back in the hands of the feds, and I assure you that no one will see either Minion or me
ever again.
Harry frowned. Are you serious?
Who do you think did this? Minion said. Megamind rested his hand on the bowl. Harry rubbed
his hand over his mouth, brow wrinkled in consternation.
But why? he asked, genuinely perplexed. What happened? It wasn't that Harry believed that
officers of the law could do no wrong. Far from it. He'd been on the receiving end of a few kicks
and shoves from officers himself. Some cops snapped, and some cops were just dicks. But this
went beyond the usual petty mistreatment that sometimes happened when officers got fed up.
Megamind and Minion glanced at each other. Probably best if you don't know, Megamind said.
Suffice it to say that I learned something I shouldn't have, I was resistant to certain recruitment
procedures, and it's turned into a grudge match.
He glanced down at the containment unit. Minion's hurt too, Uncle Harry, he said quietly.
Harry paced across the room. It was all starting to sound like some weirdo conspiracy. The boy
had been known to tell some whoppers, but he'd never lied to Harry before, not about anything
important, anyway. It was an awful lot to take in, and Harry had never come under the scrutiny of
the feds before.
I-I-I don't know, Blue... I mean, Megamind, are you sure I shouldn't....I mean I could call the
warden, I'm sure he...
Megamind shook his head and got to his feet with a sigh. Thank you for the use of your
apartment, Uncle Harry, I'm sorry about the mess. But we must be going.
Hey, hey, wait now! I didn't say... Harry stepped toward them. Megamind looked sharply at
him.
No long good-byes, the boy said. I feel much more rested now and I don't want to impose on

your hospitality any longer than necessary. He took the gun from under the cushion and stuck it
in his belt, wincing. Stiffly he picked up the alarmed Minion and began to walk toward the front
door.
All right, you can stay! Harry said desperately. The thought of them going out into that cold
rainy night was unbearable. He laid a hand on the boy's arm. And I won't call anyone. All right?
Just sit down already. Megamind allowed himself to be steered back to the couch and he lay
down again with Minion.
You really mustn't call anyone, Harry, he said, eyes boring into him. Our lives depend on it.
Yeah, I said I wouldn't, Harry said a little sharply. He took off his damp jacket and laid it across
one of the folding chairs.
Megamind slumped against the cushion. Um, do you have any dry socks I could have?

Rebounding
Chapter Notes

"If you can't run, you crawl. If you can't crawl...you find someone to carry you." Joss Whedon

See the end of the chapter for more notes

He'd slept a lot, and night time was pretty much his regular period of wakefulness so he hadn't
thought he would sleep any more after Harry retired to his mattress in the corner, but suddenly
Megamind lurched awake with a jolt. A test pattern glowed steadily from the TV screen. Harry
had left it on to keep them company through the night.
It was 4:30 in the morning and his bladder was fit to burst. The faded green quilt had slipped
halfway onto the floor and he felt chilled.
Lurching off the couch he staggered into the bathroom, his feet sliding around inside the borrowed
socks. Harry's feet were much bigger than his and the sock's heels were half way up his calves.
Legs wobbling, he sat, and as soon as his bare skin touched the cold porcelain seat he began
shivering. By the time he finished he was shaking uncontrollably. His head pounded, and every
contusion throbbed. Whimpering with relief at having emptied his bladder and agony at the extra
pain his uncontrollable shivering was producing, he zipped up his pants and lurched out again.
Shivering and aching from a thousand aches, he picked up Minion from the couch and hobbled
over to the mattress. Uncle Harry rubbed his eyes and raised himself onto one elbow.
What's the matter? Harry asked. You need a pill?
No, he croaked, throat stinging. I'm cold. Crawling under the blanket he turned his back to
Harry and clutched Minion's containment unit to his neck, and shook, pressing the heel of his fist
into his eye.
He couldn't stand it. Weak as a day old kitten and six times as pathetic!
Alarmed, Harry reached over to touch his hands. The boy's fingers were ice cold. Harry got up
and got the quilt from the floor by the couch and laid it over them, adjusting it a little so Minion
could see out. Minion's sad eyes were just visible in the dim light that filtered in through the thin
curtains.
Uncle Harry, could you please get a pain pill? Minion whispered.
I can still hear, you know, Megamind growled, teeth chattering. Harry turned on the light in the
kitchen, got a glass of water and shook an ibuprofen out of the bottle. At Minion's coaxing,
Megamind raised himself onto one elbow and swallowed the pill, then lay down again. Harry got
under the covers and lay down again, facing the wall. The boy trembled against his back.
Harry remembered when his own kids were little and would cuddle against him when they were
sick. He thought about rolling over and putting his arm over the boy, it seemed like he could use a
little extra comfort and warmth, but he had a feeling that Megamind's wounded pride wouldn't

allow it.
This can't be good, Harry thought, but at least his body heat seemed to be helping. After a couple
of minutes Megamind's shaking began to lessen.
After a little more time passed he grew still, with only an occasional tremor, but Harry thought he
was still awake. The rain had stopped a couple of hours ago.
Somewhere in the street below there was shouting, three or four angry voices coming closer, until
they were right under the apartment window, all apparently competing for the loudest, most vulgar
voice contest. It was impossible to tell what the argument was about as it consisted almost entirely
of swear words.
After a time some of the voices moved away until there was only one left, proclaiming an angry
diatribe at the world, at great length in another language.
What is that, Spanish? Harry muttered.
Portuguese, the boy mumbled.
Oh. Harry listened. The guy certainly had a lot to talk about. What's he saying?
It would seem, Megamind said, that the world would be a better place if cheating whores and
their cheating pimps didn't go around stealing, he wants his $150 dollars back, and he wishes he
were back in Boston. Oh, and the CIA is spying on him, don't think he doesn't know it.
Megamind snorted. They certainly won't have any trouble finding him.
He's from Boston? Harry asked, frowning. They got a lot of Portuguese there?
Oh, I don't know, Uncle Harry, Megamind said wearily. I'll run down and ask him later.
The angry rant continued.
Yeah, I wish you were back in Boston, too, jerk, Megamind growled. The whole street wishes
you were back there.
A window somewhere across the way slammed open and woman's shrill voice screamed at the
man to shut up, which caused him to switch back to English and an entirely new argument
erupted. Another man's thunderous voice joined the woman's, making some very specific threats
specifying that if the ranter didn't leave right now under his own power, then he would see to it
that he, the ranter, would be leaving in an ambulance.
Go back where you came from, wetback! the window shouter yelled, and there was a howl of
of outrage from the man in the street.
Stupid bigot, Megamind grumbled. And I do realize I am being redundant. Didn't even use the
right ethnic slur.
I'm born here, same as you! Where do your parents come from, fatso? the man yelled.
I wish I had the de-gun, Megamind said disgustedly, and pulled the blankets over his head and
Minion, despite Minion's protest.
Another window opened down the block and more people joined the shouting match. There was
the crash of breaking glass; someone had thrown a bottle. Outnumbered and possibly out of
breath, the embittered Portuguese speaker moved on, and the street fell silent.

Megamind's breathing steadied and Harry knew that he slept. He rubbed at his watery eyes. The
older he got, the more it seemed like he had allergies all year round now, not just in the summer.
He would have gotten up to get some tissue but he didn't want to disturb the boys, so he made do
with his t-shirt.
At least Megamind hadn't gone for the semi-automatic this time. Maybe he had been too overcome
by the shaking fit. There had been two other disturbances that night, once when a car backfired
and another time when there were sirens in the distance.
Both times Megamind had taken the gun out from under the couch cushion, sidled up to a
window, and peered around the edge of the curtain, careful not to let his profile show. The
curtains were cheap, thin fabric that did little to dim the street lights and the neon sign of the diner
next door. Only after assuring himself that all was well would the boy relax and go to lie down
again.
That damn gun made Harry nervous. He could feel the weight of it, lurking under the cushions of
the couch, as if it bent the atmosphere of the apartment around itself. He wished he could get rid of
it without Megamind noticing. But what if it went off when he picked it up? Firearms belonged to
a different level of crime that Harry had always steered well away from. When the cops came for
him he preferred to go along quietly. Easier that way, and the odds of survival were pretty much
guaranteed at a hundred percent. Having it around was just asking for trouble, but he didn't think
he'd be able to sneak it away. Megamind would discover it missing and then there would be a
scene.
What's more, Harry didn't want to get his fingerprints on it. It was a Glock, Megamind told him, a
favored weapon with law enforcement, a grim reminder of who he'd taken it from.
Harry thought about the nearest pay phone two blocks away, and the dark street, infested with
potential muggers and an angry Portuguese-American. He wondered for the hundredth time if he
were doing the right thing. The boy would be so much better off with real medical care.
Ibuprofen, ice packs, and cuddling were not, he felt, going to be enough. Making ice packs had
been a slow process with only one ice cube tray, and Megamind kept complaining about the cold
and would shunt them off anyway. Three sodden plastic bags with partially melted ice lay next to
the couch.
But Megamind insisted that he would be fine, all he needed was rest, and if the authorities got
hold of him again, it would be the end. What if Harry called for help and ended up being the cause
of the boy's death? What if the boy died anyway, from some deadly injury hidden deep inside?
Harry thought about persuading Megamind to seek help for Minion at least, but that was really just
sort of an underhanded way of getting him to turn himself in, and truth to tell, Minion seemed to
be in better shape, though he looked pretty banged up too.
And didn't it hurt him, having that hard containment unit pressed against him all the time? That
couldn't feel good, with all those bruises, but Megamind held Minion firmly as if the little
ichthyoid were a life preserver.
He thought about how upset he'd be if one of his kids was in trouble and no one told him, and that
got him to thinking about the warden, and that riot a few years back. How old was the boy then?
Five or six, something like that, when he was still small enough to be carried in Harry's arms, and
didn't mind being called Blue.
-----When Harry was sent to the Metro City prison for the Criminally Gifted, he resigned himself to

being once again at the bottom of the pecking order, just like every other jail he'd been in. It was
hard, being a black man convicted of a white-collar crime. The other black prisoners usually gave
him the cold shoulder because he wasn't cool enough or didn't have street cred or whatever the
hell it was, and he was avoided by the whites and the Hispanics, at least until they realized what a
pushover he was. He didn't try to be a pushover, he did his best to project a don't mess with me
sort of look, but somehow it didn't take.
But one thing about the Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted was that it wasn't as strongly
divided along racial lines as in many other prisons. The racial divides were there, but muted. There
was a tendency for the men to hang out primarily with the racial or ethnic group they felt most at
home with, but no one would bust anyone else's head if there was the occasional crossover.
Especially in one particular group. Blue's uncles.
Maybe the presence of the two alien boys was the reason for this vague state of racial harmony. It
didn't matter so much what race you were. If Blue and Minion took a liking to you and started
calling you uncle, you were in. Being part of the uncles was the closest Harry had ever been to
being in a gang, and it was, to his surprise, rather pleasant. The other uncles watched his back, so
that was a real plus. The other prisoners left him alone and didn't push him around too much.
Blue and Minion helped him out sometimes too, warning him away from certain people, coaching
him on what to say or what not to say, and sometimes Harry wondered who was looking after
whom. Mostly Blue followed him around talking his ear off, and Harry, who missed his own kids
something awful, was grateful.
On this particular day Harry had been hanging out in the rec room, trying to tune out Sid's usual
bellyaching and watch TV, while Blue and Minion bashed ping-pong balls around the room.
Harry just cupped his hands around his ears and leaned closer to the TV. He didn't even want to
know what those boys were up to. Blue wasn't being too destructive, though the occasional shriek
of laughter as a ball got smashed beyond recognition was testing his resolve to not get involved.
Some other prisoners were playing cards in the corner, only shouting at the kids when a ball came
flying into their midst. With the maniacal Uncle Sid present, who was white, short, and prone to
fits of berserk rage against anyone who even looked like they'd give Blue and Minion a hard time,
they would do no more than yell.
Suddenly a roar sounded out in the hallway like a distillation of hell, and Lenny flung the door
open, shouting at Sid and Harry to grab the kids and get to his cell. Then he disappeared again, for
what reason Harry never found out, and Sid, leaping to his feet, immediately crashed into 'Razor'
Roberts, one of his many sworn enemies, so he got pretty distracted, and that left Harry to run
across the room to grab the startled boys.
Harry scooped them up, Blue in one arm and Minion in his little coffee-can sized robot suit in the
other. Not in the best of shape, he struggled to hold them without squishing them. Puffing, he
stepped out of the rec room and into total chaos. Prisoners seemed to be attacking each other
everywhere.
Whether it was a riot or a fight between gangs, Harry never found out, but it hardly mattered.
Screams and shouts echoed off the walls.
Where were the guards? All taking a coffee break? And did that guy have a crowbar?
A prisoner charged straight at him, hands swinging at his sides. Harry didn't know his name, but
he recognized him, a skinhead with mean squinty eyes, and some weird tattoo of a stylized
swastika and sword on his neck, whom Harry always avoided at all costs.

What did I do to him? Harry thought. Hastily he backed toward the rec room, where Sid could
protect them.
Suddenly the man was on top of him, grabbing at him, then to his horror he realized the man had a
hold of Blue's collar.
Blue ducked his head and sank his teeth into the man's knuckle. Skinhead jerked back with a yell
and then Lenny's big, black fist shot between them. The skinhead went flying.
Get out of here! Lenny roared, pushing him toward the corridor.
Harry made for the cell block before they could become targets again, but stopped short. A man
lay right across the corridor, twitching, and blood was splattered over his orange uniform and over
the wall all the way up to the ceiling. Blue gasped and pressed his face into Harry's shoulder and
Minion growled and whimpered. Harry had never seen a man with his throat slit before either, but
there was no way around so he had to step over his legs. As he wobbled down the corridor Sid
caught up with them, teeth bared in a bloody grin and mood greatly improved. He took Blue out
of Harry's sagging arm and they hurried away from the mayhem...
They took refuge in Lenny's cell. Not much else happened, though they could still hear the distant
fighting. It sounded like the guards had finally shown up. Lenny appeared, silent and fierce, and
simply leaned against the bars, looking out. Sid, his eye swelling up, paced back and forth
muttering and cursing. Harry sat next to the boys on the bed. Blue had one arm around Minion's
little shoulders and was using his other arm to try to cover both his ears at once. Minion chewed
on one of his tendrils, always a sign of great anxiety.
A couple of prisoners ambled by, giving them all a speculative, predatory look, but Sid punched a
fist into his hand and Lenny squared his shoulders and glared at them, and they sauntered off as if
they were just out for a little stroll.
Sid went back to his agitated pacing. The two boys sat very still, only their eyes following the
muttering Sid, until Harry, in a rare burst of insane courage, snapped:
Would you shut the hell up!
Sid whipped around, eyes wide with anger, and Harry thought for sure he was going to get his ass
kicked, but then Sid looked at the boys huddled together and, incredibly, shut up. Lenny gave
them all a somber glare then went back to his watch. Sid, still twitchy, went to stand by him and
leaned against the bars, crossing his arms hard across his chest as if forcing himself to behave.
Harry looked down at Blue, trying to remember what the kid was reading these days.
Hey, he murmured, giving him a little nudge with his elbow.
Two little faces looked up at him. I'm not scared, Blue said promptly.
Me neither, Minion said.
Yeah, I know, Harry said. I was just thinking about what you were telling me about the other
day, you heard something on the news, or the paper, about the...the DNA robots?
A distant scream made both Blue and Minion look around at the corridor, but Harry gazed at them
steadily, willing them to look back at him, even though a drop of sweat rolled down his temple.
Blue swallowed and looked at him again. I think you're getting them mixed up, Uncle Harry, he
said in the patient tone that he always used with clueless grown-ups who meant well. There was

a new technique development in DNA analysis, and also, in an unrelated news item, recent
innovations in nanotechnology in which an artificial carbon construct called buckminsterfullerene
was created. They are two separate things.
It always amazed Harry to hear such huge words coming from that little voice. The kid would
mispronounce stuff all the time, like when he was telling him about some new 'theo-rice' and
Harry wondered where the sudden interest in rice came from, until he realized the boy meant
'theories'. Then words like 'buckminsterfullerene' (whatever that was) just rolled off his tongue.
So, nanotechnology, that's little robots, right? Harry said.
Blue nodded. Really little. Molecule-sized. They may even have medical uses.
Really? Harry hadn't heard that. How are they going to use them?
Well, they could be injected into the bloodstream so they can diagnose die-zeases.
What? Sid chuckled, crouching by the cot. You mean doctors'd shoot you full of teeny, creepy
little bug-bots? He waggled his fingers in the air and scrunched up his face. Ewwww.
Blue and Minion giggled.
They could hear some shouting on one of the lower levels. Harry looked up. He hadn't even
noticed that the noise of the fight had gone away. Then they heard the warden's voice:
I know he was in the rec room! We already checked twice! He's hiding, that's what he does
when...
Lenny leaned out of the cell and shouted, Up here, warden! He's with us!
The warden hurried into the cell, pale as a ghost, and hugged Blue and Minion tight, and shook
hands with the three of them, thanking them so profusely that Harry was embarrassed, and even a
little angry.
So later, after thinking it over for a good long while, he asked to speak with Mister Parker.
Though once he was seated in the warden's office and the man himself was sitting there behind his
big desk with all those files and papers, clearly busy but hiding his impatience, because this was
one of Blue's uncles, Harry felt his righteous indignation wavering. He always did have trouble
speaking up. His ex-wife said he was born without a backbone, but this time he screwed up his
courage and asked Mister Parker why he kept those boys in prison.
The warden sighed and shifted a few pages around as if searching for an answer.
There are several reasons. None of them truly adequate, he said. He straightened a few pens. I
had hoped, at one time, he said slowly, that I might have convinced my wife that we could
adopt them. That is impossible, now. She is absent, and I already have one troubled child at
home.
But couldn't you find another family? There must be somebody...
There are over one hundred thousand children in this country waiting for adoption, Mister
Chambers, Parker interrupted. He sighed again. They would be...hard to place. But I did look
into it, once. And there was a lot of, shall we say, unhealthy interest. One couple turned out to be
employees of a major biotechnology company, who had been bribed to pose as legitimate
sponsors. As did yet another couple from a pharmaceutical company. He gave a harsh bark of
laughter. Another pair turned out to be members of a cult. The warden clamped his jaw shut and

looked away, drumming his fingers on the desk, and Harry didn't dare ask what they had wanted.
The warden grimaced, leaning forward on the desk. This is not ideal, Mister Chambers. Not by a
long shot. But it's a hell of a lot better than the alternatives.
He looked at Harry thoughtfully as if wondering how much to tell him, then seemed to make up
his mind. There is another consideration as well. If I were to take Blue and Minion home with
me, the financial support for their upkeep would stop immediately.
Harry looked at him in surprise. He hadn't thought of that. Who was paying for the two little aliens
to stay in this place?
You mean there's some kind of grant or something? Harry asked, brow wrinkling.
Parker nodded. Harry looked at him a little more narrowly. But you know who it is.
The warden nodded again. The donor prefers to be anonymous. If I did decide to adopt them by
myself and take them out of the prison, I'd be on my own. I would need to hire a nanny,
preferably one who can recognize incendiary devices, Parker continued. And probably a
bodyguard, so the feds couldn't just come into my house and take them away. Or for anyone else
to take them, for that matter. They've tried before. Here, there are walls and guards to at least slow
them down. I can't afford that kind of protection. For better or worse, I need that anonymous
donor. The stipulation is that he be kept in the prison, until such time as he can be safely
assimilated into society.
It didn't escape his notice that the warden had switched from they to he, and Harry was pretty
sure which one of the pair was the bigger concern.
Of course, the members of the Alien Oversight Committee have their own ideas about what
'safely assimilated' means, Parker said. The committee believes he is a constant, potential threat.
And the...donor seems to be willing to take their word over mine, so...
The two of them sat in silence for a little while, and the clock ticked on the wall.
I appreciate your concern, Mister Chambers, Parker said. And I'm very grateful for the care
you've shown them. I will do my best to alleviate your stay here, and to give you a work
recommendation for when you leave. Is there anything else I can...
Harry shifted uncomfortably, waving his hands. He hadn't come to see the warden to ask for
special favors. No, no, warden, nothing, I'm good. And it's just Harry, he said, embarrassed at
all the respect, and returned to the cell block.
----Harry thought about his own children. Though they were all grown up now he'd be pretty mad if
they were in trouble and no one told him. But he'd promised Megamind that he'd make no phone
calls, not even to the warden. Especially the warden.
Maybe...an anonymous phone call, just to let him know the boys were being taken care of...he
wondered what he could do to disguise his voice.
Harry carefully pulled back the blankets a little off Megamind's head and face, and away from the
containment unit. Minion didn't like being covered. He was sure they both must be asleep, but
Minion looked up at him, the end of one of his tendrils clutched in his teeth. Harry touched
Megamind's hand. He was warmer, no longer icy.

It'll be all right, man, Harry whispered, not knowing if it would or not. Try to get some sleep.
Okay, Minion mumbled, giving him a brief smile, gamely trying to show Harry that he believed
him, and huddled a little further down into the bowl.
-----Megamind cracked his eyes open at the gentle shake of his shoulder and peered up into Uncle
Harry's concerned face.
Hey, you guys. Got some doughnuts, he said, lifting the bag to show them. You want any?
Megamind's eyes darted around the apartment. Every time he woke up he half expected the cops
or the feds to be looming over him. But the TV murmured away, broadcasting a morning show
full of human interest stories, and there was no one in the place but themselves.
Harry kept the TV on constantly, to provide enough background noise to hide their conversations
from any casual passersby in the hall. The neighbors were mostly single men who, like Harry,
were down on their luck for one reason or another and who kept to themselves, but the walls were
thin and it was better not to take any chances, so the TV provided a constant hum.
I'm not hungry, Megamind said. The constant aching every time he moved or breathed sucked
the appetite right out of him.
You feel nauseous? Harry asked.
No. Just...I'll eat later. Minion, you should...
I'm not hungry either, Minion said.
Minion, I can hear your stomach growling.
So? the little ichthyoid said. Don't need to eat. I'm staying here. Can't do anything else
anyway.
He lifted his head and looked at the way Minion's eyes and mouth turned down.
I need to talk to Minion alone, Uncle Harry, said Megamind.
Harry nodded, then turned and walked into the kitchen. With no wall separating the two rooms it
was the most privacy he could give them, other than shutting himself in the bathroom, and with
the thin door he'd still be able to hear them whether he wanted to or not. He stood looking out the
window, blowing on his coffee and studying the clouds.
Megamind pushed himself up onto his elbows, then sat up. Since the mattress was on the floor he
sat cross-legged, almost Indian-style but with his feet on the floor, and rolled the containment unit
onto his leg. Then he picked it up and raised it to his face. Placing his bruised forehead against the
smooth surface he closed his eyes.
He stroked the cool material with his thumb and thought about what to say. His first reaction had
been annoyance. Why was Minion being so stubborn? If he was hungry, he should eat, plain and
simple. But Minion looked so depressed.
He opened his eyes and raised his head so he could give Minion a solemn look.
I'm not going to stop breathing if you go get yourself some food, he said.

Minion twitched his tail unhappily. But I want to stay here with you. I'm helping you. Physical
touch from a loved one is one of the best aids to healing. It is a scientific fact.
Megamind snorted. Oh, well, science. You trying to get on my good side? No, I believe you, he
said as Minion opened his mouth to protest. And I do feel better having you beside me. But I
think I can spare you for a few minutes. I manage to limp into the bathroom all on my own. So if
you really are hungry, you should go into the kitchen and eat. Don't wait for me.
Minion's forehead wrinkled. Just feel useless, he whispered. I can't do anything.
Stop it, Megamind said in a low voice. Do you think I only keep you around out of... of
usefulness? When I thought you were...I almost... He clamped his lips shut, breathing hard, and
tried to control the lump building in his throat.
Minion had been bashed, scraped, and nearly suffocated, had even tried to get Megamind to leave
him behind, and here he was beating himself up for not being able to do more. The loss of the
robot suit and the mobility it gave him had left Minion anxious and dejected.
Is this the same bad-ass fish who cleverly hid that lock pick and bit two people in three different
places? he said gruffly. Who remembered the keys and knew where to find a haven and
managed to procure yet another wretchedly oversized coat, all without the robot suit? If it weren't
for you we'd be locked in some dungeon somewhere, or dead. Or still freezing our heinies off in
that car.
They thought you were useless, just because they took away your robot suit. They believed you
were helpless and could be dismissed out of hand. You proved them wrong. And if you believe
you're helpless, Minion, you're wrong, too.
He sniffed and raised his chin a little. And aren't I always right? he said, raising an arrogant
eyebrow. His mouth twitched in ever-so-slight self-mockery, knowing that there were many times
he'd been wrong, and also knowing full well that it was a cornerstone of their relationship that he
was always right, even when he was wrong.
Minion grinned, happy to be standing, as it were, on familiar ground. Yes, Sir.
He lowered his head and Minion poked out of the top of the bowl and gently pressed his little
green forehead to Sir's bruised one.
Megamind stroked Minion's cheek with the backs of his fingers.
I need you, Minion. Remember that.
Okay, Sir.
They sat with their heads together for a few moments while the television murmured away and
Uncle Harry moved about the kitchen.
Megamind cleared his throat and straightened up again. Minion slipped back into the water. You
really are a lot of work, Minion, he said in a more normal voice, tilting his head and giving him a
sly grin.
Hmph, said Minion. Look whos talking. He too could raise a sardonic eyebrow when
needed,
Megamind chuckled, pleased at this hint of banter. Oh ho ho. Because of my kind and generous
nature Im going to let that slide. But you do need to get strong. Want to know why?

Minion nodded.
Megamind brought the bowl closer again. Because the first thing we're going to do when I get
my strength back is retrieve your robot suit, he whispered. I'm not going to waste time
scrabbling around for spare parts to cobble together another one. And you will walk by my side
again.
And fight! the little ichthyoid growled.
Should the occasion arise. Megamind grinned.
But how...
I'll tell you later. His glance darted briefly toward Uncle Harry, who had turned on the tap and
was running water into the sink to wash the dishes. Minion nodded eagerly. No need to worry
Harry with any of their plans of impending mayhem. It was best if he were kept out of it.
I'm sure I'll get my appetite back soon. So are you hungry or not? Good, he said as Minion
nodded. Uncle Harry, could you give Minion something to eat?
-----Bad enough they had to work all weekend, Agent Ross thought to himself. At least the others
didn't have to put up with Psycho Delic. Ross needed a few days off from Psycho Delic's
presence regularly, so he didn't feel like he needed to take a bath every half hour.
Feet. Off. The desk, he said again, giving the purple man a hard look. You had to lay down the
law with Psycho Delic all the time, or he'd chip away at your authority until you didn't have any
choice but to thumb the remote and shock him. Though he behaved himself just enough to be
allowed his own apartment so he didn't have to stay in the cells of the federal building, he toed the
line, pushed the envelope, and just generally pushed to see just how much he could get away with.
Different levels of control were indicated by the number of lights. One light showed it was
operational, two lights dampened the wearer's powers by about a third, three lights on meant by a
third more, and four lights indicated a total lockdown, so the super would be just an ordinary
person.
Psycho's collar was always at a three, at least.
Psycho Delic's lips pressed together in a thin smile and, never taking his eyes off Ross's, he
slowly, deliberately clunked each foot down hard on the floor. He glanced around the open floor
of the office, looking over the agents busy at their desks, until his gaze landed on Sparkle sitting in
a chair next to Agent Corbin's office. Her knees pulled up to her chest, she had a bulky coat on
over her green skin-tight uniform and was thumbing listlessly through a newspaper.
Spent a little time checking out the hookers last night, Psycho said loudly, turning back to Ross
with a grin. Across the room, Sparkle glanced up at the sound of his voice, then she ducked her
head over the paper again, face reddening. Psycho Delic fussily straightened the lapels on his tan
trench coat. He wore a white dress shirt with the top buttons open to expose his toast-rack chest.
Two gold chains lay around his neck next to the power inhibiting collar.
Ross's jaw tightened. He wished he could send Sparkle home, but Corbin had insisted that all
operatives be present. But really, what use was she other than for reconnaissance? She had no
underground contacts, no investigative skills, and despite her powers, which were considerable,
she had no combat skills and cringed whenever anyone looked at her cross-eyed.

The girl was cursed, no doubt about it, but it was best if DPI could keep an eye on her. Ross
thought he would have to talk to Corbin again about putting a collar on her. He claimed that she
didn't need it, being so easily controlled even without the threat of it, but accidents happened, and
Ross didn't want to see anyone get hurt if Sparkle should lose the iron control she maintained over
her radiant powers, about the only strength of will she ever displayed about anything.
Naturally, the Department was also keeping a close eye on Wayne Scott, from a distance. Lord
Scott did not take kindly to any kind of supervision or interference. Ross would not like to be the
one to try to put a collar on that one, and he hoped that the young Metro Man was as heroic as he
claimed.
All of these super-powered beings needed watching, if not outright handling.
Psycho Delic was a prime example of that need.
You were just supposed to check your contacts, not go traipsing off to the red light district.
Which we have already investigated, James, he said. There's no reason to suppose Megamind
would seek refuge there.
Doesn't hurt to take another look, eh? Psycho Delic said, grinning. Maybe the little geek ran a
few experiments and figured out what dicks are for, eh? Maybe he's a late bloomer. I myself was
eleven when I discovered the wonders of screwing, but that's just me, he said with a shrug.
How about you, sweetheart, how old were you? he called across the room.
Sparkle abruptly stood up and walked quickly down the hallway to the restroom. Psycho Delic,
leering, watched her leave, but unfortunately the departure of his target audience didn't dampen his
enthusiasm and he began regaling Ross with the story of his latest adventure.
Ross tried his best to read the file but he couldn't concentrate.
...of course, by that time I'd given her a dose of the ol' magic, he said, grinning and raising one
of his hands, pointing two fingers at the ceiling like a gun. Wisps of purple smoke wafted off his
fingertips as if his hand really had turned into a gun. And I left her with nothin' but a smile and a
warm, fuzzy glow. See, Mikey? I can be nice. He smiled lazily. Ross eyed the wisps of vapor,
reaching for the remote in his pocket, but they soon dissipated.
James 'Psycho Delic' Yager had the ability to create chemical compounds that could be absorbed
into another person's lungs or pores, producing feelings of euphoria, relaxation, or paranoia, or
give them wild hallucinations, or drive them into screaming fits, or knock them out. He was a
walking pharmacy.
Psycho Delic watched him with a gleam in his red eyes and Ross forced himself to relax.
You're supposed to be concentrating on the investigation, Ross said, glaring.
Gaaaaaawwwwwd, Psycho Delic groaned, letting his head fall over the back of the chair,
nearly knocking off his fedora. He grabbed at it and wedged it more firmly onto his balding scalp.
I did my homework first thing, boss. Checked with Shnozzer. Nothing. Lewis. Zilch. He ticked
the names of his contacts off on his bony fingers. Iggy, Reed, Wilco. Nada, nada, nada.
Nobody's seen the little blue geek. He swept his hands off to the sides in a cut-off gesture.You
got me going over the same ground again and again, barkin up the same goddamn trees, and I got
news for you, he still ain't hangin' out at any bars or clubs or any other sleazeball dive.
His voice was getting pretty loud and his cheek began twitching. Ross held up his hands to try to
quiet him and scrutinized him more closely. Come to think of it, Psycho Delic had sort of a lurch

in his step when he first came in, and now that he looked, the whites of his eyes were almost as
red as his irises.
Being highly resistant to most pharmaceuticals, Psycho Delic was on a constant search for
something strong enough to get him high. It looked like he had, once again, found that something.
Ross wondered what it was. Last time Psycho Delic had managed to get a buzz from vodka, drain
cleaner, and Rogaine, and had to have his stomach pumped.
Ross shuddered at the memory. The guy would eat, snort, or inhale anything.
At least he was still upright, but whatever it was, it wouldn't last. Sooner or later his body would
build up a resistance to whatever concoction was working its way through his bloodstream and
Psycho Delic's search would begin anew.
Psycho Delic slumped in his chair with an exhalation. Since he ain't anywhere else, I decided,
hey, why not check with the girls? He gave Ross a sly grin.
With his injuries he's not going to go around looking for love now , James. He looked around
pointedly at the other agents at their desks, who were doing their best to concentrate on their
paperwork. Some of them visited the ladies of the night themselves, but Psycho Delic's loud
recollections put even the most callous of them to shame.
Besides which, he continually pushed the envelope on the definition of 'consent' as well, and not
all of these agents were willing to look the other way if they heard Psycho Delic go into details.
They might hear something illegal.
As usual, Psycho Delic ignored Ross's hints to shut up. He chuckled, exposing his too-long teeth.
Oh, he might, if he saw that little honey last night. She'd bring just about anyone back from the
dead.
He tipped his chair back so it balanced on its back legs and propped one of his feet on the edge of
the desk, pushing his fedora back on his head, showing a large portion of his purple scalp. Though
he was only in his twenties, he was nearly bald, making him look even more skeletal.
You and me, we oughta go out on the town sometime, he said. What do you say? I'll show you
around.
No thanks, Ross said, turning to the computer monitor on the desk, looking for old files to
delete. There must be something else he could do until Corbin got here, he wished he'd get here
and give them their damn assignments already. There must be some junk to clean out, so he didn't
have to listen to all this...
Psycho Delic burst out laughing and let the chair fall onto all four legs. Ross looked up in surprise.
Agents Corbin and Bates had entered the office.
Lookit what the cat done dragged in! Psycho Delic crowed, and he clapped his hands together
and roared with laughter.
He really is stoned, Ross thought wildly.
The harsh red scars on Corbin's face burned brighter red and his eyes flashed. Ross grabbed for
the remote. He had to shut him up before...
...oh crap . It wasn't even in his pocket, he'd left it in his coat. Quickly he got up and headed for
the coat rack on the wall.

Psycho Delic lurched to his feet. Ho-lee shit, that little blue boy did a number on you! Had a fish
up his sleeve, didn't he! Hee hee hee hee! Hoo boy, I'll bet even Sparkle doesn't want to kiss you
now! What do you say, honey?
Sparkle, who had emerged from the restroom at the sound of the ruckus, stood there with her
hands clasped over her mouth in horror.
Ross grabbed his coat off the hook and fumbled for the remote. He whirled, startled, as Corbin
snatched it away from him and depressed the shock button.
Psycho Delic's laughter stopped. His teeth clenched and his body stiffened as the electric shock
tore through him. Convulsing, he fell across the desk, losing his hat and knocking the keyboard
off, but Corbin didn't let up on the button until he fell to the floor.
Ross seized his arm. It was like grabbing an iron bar. Stop, Ed! You'll kill him! he shouted.
Corbin didn't even look at Ross, and it was an endless five extra seconds before he finally lowered
the remote.
Psycho Delic went limp with a weak moan. Corbin handed Ross the remote and he took it,
breathing hard. Everyone looked around warily, not quite meeting anyone else's eyes. Even Bates
stared at Corbin in alarm.
Listen up people, Corbin said, walking to the center of the room. We go over the same ground
as before. He may have another hideout, or he may have sought refuge with a friend,
acquaintance, or family member. The words came out stiffly from around his sore, swollen lip, as
if he'd just come from the dentist office with a mouth shot full of novocaine.
He glared around the room. Where's Ulrich?
One of the agents cleared his throat. They won't release him into our custody. Hasn't had his bail
hearing yet. He attacked five police dogs and bit a cop. MCPD isn't going to do us any favors.
Corbin shook his head with an exasperated sigh. I'll deal with them later. Feiffer and Pitt, you
will, respectfully and carefully, interview each person in the warden's family separately. Murray,
go over all of their phone records.
An agent lifted his hand. What about the wife? She's had no contact with Megamind for years
and she's in the mental ward.
Including the wife, Corbin said. Leave no stone unturned. Recently we discovered the current
address of the warden's estranged son, Daniel. He and his girlfriend will also be interviewed. We
will interview everyone who had contact with him in the last forty-eight hours, repeat, everyone,
including the robbery victims. He may have said or done something that will provide a clue as to
his whereabouts. What was that, Agent Stone? he said sharply, whirling around.
The luckless agent shrugged. Corbin stalked toward him, limping a little, and Ross recalled that he
had scars identical to the ones on his face plastered over the back of his upper thigh.
It sounded almost like you said, 'gonna take until next Christmas', Corbin said.
Stone tried not to stare at Corbin's still-swollen nose and fresh scars. He cleared his throat and
said, Uh, I only meant, that's a lot of people. Won't that take a long time, sir?
Why, you got a vacation coming up? No? Guess we better get started right away, then. Let's
move, people! he shouted, making Stone flinch. He turned and began to walk into his office,
glancing at the still figure of Psycho Delic. Guiltily Ross realized that he should have gone to

check on him.
Take him to a cell, Corbin ordered two agents. Go with them to keep control, he said to Ross.
He just lost all privileges, including that cozy little apartment he's so fond of. Get to work,
people.
Ross knelt down on one knee. The purple man had hit his head on the desk as he fell and his lip
was drawn up into a sneer, even unconscious. Ross sighed. He had little liking for Psycho Delic
and firmly believed that the country was best served if every single super-powered person were
identified, collared, and monitored, but he disapproved of such harsh disciplinary methods. He
would've given a brief jolt to remind Psycho Delic of his place, no more. He refused to use the
word 'freak' as so many of his colleagues did. Which made him a better agent, he was certain.
They got the medics to bring around the stretcher. As they were bringing him down to the cell, the
last agent came puffing up the stairs.
Sorry I'm late, he panted. Does Corbin know? He looked at the man on the stretcher. Hey,
what happened?
Ross glanced back down the hallway. Discipline problem, he muttered.
----One thing the apartment had was a bathtub crammed into the tiny bathroom, so Harry asked
Megamind to take a bath, because he was starting to get kind of ripe. Noticing that the boy was
showing stubble on his face he gave him a razor to use, and Megamind shaved gingerly, moving
the razor with care over and around the sore spots.
While he was in the tub Harry brought down a load of clothes to the building's laundromat and
washed the boy's things along with his own. Even after the wash, Megamind's shirt was just too
far gone to be good for anything other than a rag, but at least the jeans were salvageable. It was a
good thing too, because Harry's girth meant that the pants he'd loaned Megamind practically had
to be tied onto him to keep them from slipping off his skinny frame completely. Harry didn't have
enough change for the washer so he hung the pants, underwear, and socks over the heat vent to
dry, and draped his own damp clothes around the windows and other areas in the apartment.
He gave the boy a v-necked t-shirt, which went over his large head easily, and two sweatshirts,
which didn't.
By Sunday evening it was clear that Megamind's bruises were fading, the black to purple, and the
purple to lavender, with red and even a little greenish-yellow around the edges. Harry had never
seen so many colors on one person before. But as Megamind grew more alert and began
complaining of boredom, Harry's worries lessened so he no longer thought about making calls for
help, or even making an anonymous call to the warden.
He changed the bandage on his arm once.
You gonna tell me how this happened? he asked, looking at the thin, widely-spaced lines that
marked half the boy's arm.
Nah, Megamind said with a brief gleam of amusement in his eye. It would only worry you.
Though the lacerations healed cleanly with no lasting damage to the muscles or nerves, Megamind
remained scarred. If left alone, they probably would have disappeared without a trace, but the
repeated twisting and re-opening of the wounds had done the job.

----On Monday Harry went in to work at his new job as a shelf stocker at a warehouse across town.
Though it was only part time he needed to take two buses to get there so he was gone for most of
the day. With his embezzlement record he would never find work as a bookkeeper again. He'd
never meant to steal, only borrow. He'd always planned on paying everybody back just as soon as
he hit the big time, which was sure to happen any day now. It was just taking a little longer than
he'd thought.
As he entered the apartment building he ran into the landlady.
You left your TV on, she said accusingly, blowing a stream of noxious cigarette smoke into the
hallway.
Oh, yeah, sorry, he said, wondering why he should even apologize, since he was the one who'd
have to pay the electric bill anyway. But Mrs. Rotter made you feel like you had to apologize for
signing a lease and paying her rent.
You seen any sign of rats? Droppings? Noises? she said as he made a move to continue on up
the stairs.
Just the cockroaches, but I got some traps, so...I mean, uh, maybe, why? he said, heart
beginning to pound.
She glared at him. Heard some scuffling noises in your place. Hard to hear over the damn TV.
You were out, she said accusingly. Had a problem with rats last year. So did you see or hear
any? She took another puff and watched him narrowly.
Um, I might have, I'm not sure, he said, face growing hot. He was a terrible liar.
Check for droppings under the sink. You hear?
After hurriedly assuring her he would, Harry clumped up the stairs.
He found Megamind lying on the floor with his head in the refrigerator, Minion chewing on a
chicken thigh bone, and dozens of boxes and cans strewn around them in a semi-circle.
What the... Harry pushed an empty cereal box out of the way with his foot and quickly shut the
door.
Minion dropped the bone and pushed it behind him with his fin.
He got hungry, he said, looking both pleased and guilty.
Harry gaped at the carnage. The encounter with the landlady had shaken him and all the litter on
the floor left him speechless.
Because of the roaches he kept everything that was in an opened can or box in the fridge.
Wrappers, empty cans of soup, spam, ravioli, and corned beef lay clean and bare on the floor. The
box of Velveeta cheese was gone, and there'd been almost half a pound left. The milk, the leftover
chicken, and the bread was gone, and even the mayonnaise jar lay empty, as if it had been licked
clean.
The only thing left was the ice cube tray and a frozen pizza. There were a few unopened things in
the cupboards, but not much.

Megamind opened one eye, then shut it again.

Hey, Uncle Harry, he said, and lifted a stick of butter to his mouth and took a bite.
You know you're eating butter, right? Harry said after a moment's shock.
It's margarine, Megamind mumbled. Terrible. He took another bite.
You're going to make yourself sick, man! You could have at least heated something up! Harry
said. Now would you get out of the fridge? At the agitation in his voice they looked at him. He
leaned over to grab the boy by an arm and a hand and helped him to his feet, and Megamind
staggered into one of the kitchen chairs.
I just felt so hungry. I turned the oven on for the pizza, but I just couldn't wait, Megamind said
groggily. Harry began picking up the discarded boxes and cans, but he waved Megamind back to
his seat when he began to stand up.
No, really, it's okay, you need to rest, he said. I'm glad you're eating again, but my landlady
was up on this floor, man, she heard you guys moving around.
Megamind said, So that's who it was. We heard someone and saw her shadow under the door so
we slipped into the bathroom. If she had come in we would've gone out the window. What did
she say?
Thought you guys were rats.
They looked at each other. Not far off, Megamind muttered and they began giggling. Harry
shook his head. Clearly they were both feeling better. Minion's scrape had closed up and the
bruise on the side of his head had faded. He was healing about as quickly as Megamind.
Costing me money here, he grumbled, wondering what they were going to eat for the rest of the
week. He wouldn't get paid until next week. Then he regretted saying it aloud. He really was
relieved that Megamind was eating again, but he wasn't exactly raking in the cash here. Not until
the racetrack opened for the season anyway. He didn't dare ask his ex-wife for another loan.
They sobered immediately. I'll pay you back, Uncle Harry, Megamind said quietly. Soon. I'll
restock the refrigerator.
Harry grimaced, feeling guilty. He hadn't meant to make the boy feel bad for getting hungry. And
what a hunger! No, it's okay, we'll manage, he said hurriedly, knowing that Megamind would
fill it with stolen goods. Then again, he wasn't in much of a position to refuse. Don't do anything
risky. He sighed as he picked up the empty box of chocolate chip Pop Tarts. Those were his
favorite flavor.
Those were pretty good, Megamind said wistfully. I didn't think a pastry out of a box would be
so good, but those weren't half bad.
I got another, Harry said, taking an unopened box of strawberry-flavored ones out of the
cupboard. You just ate 'em cold? You should try 'em toasted.
He noticed how their faces brightened when he brought out the second box. Since he didn't have a
toaster he put a couple into the warmed-up oven. Both alien boys stared at the oven, mouths
slightly open, as the scent of the toasting Pop Tarts filled the room. After a couple of minutes,
Harry fished them out.
Megamind carefully broke off a corner, blew on it a few times, fed it to Minion, then took another

for himself. Harry smiled at the way their eyes bulged.

I can't believe you guys never had Pop Tarts before, he said, chuckling.
And I thought doughnuts were good, Minion said, wonder in his voice. Wow.
When we get our new lair, Megamind said with fevered devotion, there will be a room set
aside specifically for these Pop-ped Tarts. They had indulged in a few frenzied nights of junk
food binging, trying out all sorts of chips, candy, and other delightful concoctions they had never
even dreamed existed, but he and Minion hadn't looked into the breakfast aisles at the grocery
stores much. What was breakfast, anyway? Toast, dried-out scrambled eggs, cold cereal, or
rubbery pancakes was the usual grub served at the prison, nothing special, other than the pancake
syrup. The warden had occasionally given them with doughnuts, which, up until now, were the
height of breakfast cuisine. They'd overlooked an entire glorious culinary experience.
Harry let them eat the whole box. Minion's small stomach could only handle a little at a time, but
Megamind's had turned into a bottomless pit.
Harry took some pizza slices for himself so he wouldn't go hungry before turning it over to them.
About halfway through Megamind finally began to slow down and he laid his head on the table.,
a half-eaten slice in his hand.
Maybe you better go lie down and digest for a while, he said. Wait a minute. He raised a hand
as Megamind began to stand up. Your ribs feeling better?
Megamind lifted the layers of shirts, the t-shirt and two sweatshirts to show his chest.
The bruises were fading there, too, just like the ones on his head and face. Patches of blue were
visible among the black and dwindling purple contusions. Not surprisingly, his stomach bulged
from the food rampage.
Less than seventy two hours after a savage beating, Megamind was on the mend.
See? he said with a smug grin. Be good as new in no time. Or bad as new. I think, Minion, he
added with a wink, I may be getting my strength back.
----Please review. :)

Chapter End Notes

A dialogue about Pop Tarts on Tumblr helped inspire the final scene. A person who
runs a blog called megamindyelling played the role of Megamind extolling the virtues
of Pop Tarts. Highly recommended. (Both the blog and Pop Tarts.)

Of Course, You Know This Means War

Chapter Notes

"While persistence offers no guarantees, it does give 'luck' a chance to operate, either
through unknown allies, or unknown weaknesses in the opposition." -Tom Shippey,
The Road to Middle-Earth

As Melanie Parker turned her car onto the street that led to her house, she frowned. She'd noticed
two things: her father sitting on the front steps, and a dead cat lying next to his feet.
Jaw tightening she pulled into the driveway. Dad didn't look over at her as she drove up, but just
sat there, face blank, looking down at his clasped hands, elbows on knees.
Melanie's hands trembled as she took the key out of the ignition and she grabbed her purse and
backpack with her textbooks. Getting out, she slammed the door shut, walked slowly up the
sidewalk, and sat next to Dad on the damp steps, wrapping her arms around her stomach.
For the past few days Dad had been on the rampage, spending hours on the phone, stalking
around the house with a face like thunder. She'd heard from her seventeen year old brother
Sammy how two men had come to the house and Dad had threatened to have them arrested if they
ever came on his property again, then slammed the door in their faces.
Sammy's usual slouching indifference had given way to fear. I think they were from the FBI or
something, he said, looking pale. We're probably all going to get arrested. You think the house
is bugged?
Melanie had snorted in exasperation. If it is, they're going to be bored out of their skulls. What
are they going to hear? All you do is watch TV.
When Melanie heard that federal agents had actually gone to the hospital to question Mom she'd
been shocked, and furious. Dad had been so livid she feared he'd have a stroke.
There were more phone calls, to the lawyer, to the police, to the state governor, to some people in
Washington, D.C. Who did he know in Washington?
And now all the furious activity seemed to have come to an end.
She glanced down at the cat, an undersized gray tabby with black stripes. Its lip curled back to
show perfect sharp little incisors, as if it were still snarling defiance at the world.
It got hit by a car, Dad said. Lying in the gutter.
She looked from him to the cat, then around at the street. A blue station wagon drove slowly by.
And here they were sitting on wet front steps under gray clouds. A drop of rain landed on her
head, then another on her knee.
Dad, let's go inside. She wondered for a moment if she'd have to help him to his feet, but he
nodded and slowly rose. He walked straight-backed inside. Melanie got a shovel out of the garage
and used it to move the cat back by the garbage can. She took the lid off the first one, but then

hesitated.
It was just a stray cat. It didn't mean anything.
But instead of dumping it into the can, she found an old tarp in the garage and laid the cat on it.
She felt a little stupid, but maybe they could bury it later.
She found Dad sitting in the living room staring at the turned-off TV and she felt suddenly
impatient and angry.
I hope you washed your hands after handling that cat, she said. Dad looked at her in surprise,
then looked down at where his hands lay in his lap.
Wash up and come into the kitchen. She marched away, hearing him get out of the chair.
She busied herself filling the tea kettle, listening to the water run in the downstairs bathroom. Full
of nervous energy she put away some of the dishes sitting in the dish rack. Soon he came in and
sat at the table. She really didn't know what to say, but she had a night class that she had to get
ready for soon, so she'd better think of something. At least Sammy was at a friend's house so they
wouldn't get interrupted.
She sat down at a corner chair so they were shoulder to shoulder but not facing off. What could
she say? Don't fall apart? Quit worrying about that alien child? He's not really yours anyway?
Her anger and resentment were irrational, but Dad always seemed to be wasting his time on
troublemakers, first her older brother Dan, and then, when he was out of the picture, on Blue.
Megamind.
She and Sammy were barely on his radar.
They found these contraptions, he said. She gave him a puzzled look.
Who, Dad? she said.
In his hideout. The police didn't know what they were at first, then someone figured out they
emitted these sounds that humans can't hear, but mice and rats can. He made them to keep out
pests.
She nodded. I've seen things like that advertised on TV.
He made them, Dad repeated. He didn't set traps or put out poison. And now he's the object of
a city-wide manhunt. Why did they send him here?
Melanie gritted her teeth and rubbed a hand down her face. Well, at least he's talking, she told
herself, and willed patience into her voice.
Dad, I'm not following.
His people, he said. I saw a movie, where they said every transmission that has ever been made
on Earth goes out into space, and they go on forever. Did they pick up radio and TV transmissions
about the United States, and all our talk of equality and justice? Is that why they sent him here?
His face tightened and he shook his head. Or were they just so desperate they didn't have any
other choice?
He looked at her then, his eyes as sharp as ever. She blinked, startled. She'd expected the same
dull, hopeless gaze she'd seen in her mother's eyes.

I have a duty, he said. You understand?

She looked away so he wouldn't see any resentment in her face. Yeah, I do, she said.
One of my worst fears, he continued, is that Megamind is lying in some abandoned building
somewhere, too hurt to move. Minion with him, trapped, unable to do anything. They took his
robot suit away, you know.
Well, he can't be too bad off, if he could rob a couple of different stores right after escaping, she
responded. You really don't have any idea where he could have gone? What about those men,
those uncles?
Parker shook his head. No. They've checked. Repeatedly. All of them. Maybe he had another
hideout. But would he have really needed to rob those places for supplies if he had? To take a
different car, sure, he would have wanted to be more difficult to track, but stealing water, and first
aid supplies?
A little thought moved in the back of his mind, some inconsequential thing, but as the tea kettle
began to whistle it flickered and was gone again.
Melanie pushed her chair back with a scrape and got up.
But couldn't you spare a little more time for Sammy? For me? Your own flesh and blood? She set
those thoughts aside. It was selfish. She knew that, whatever troubles she had, she and Sammy
were so much luckier than Megamind and Minion. But it seemed like Dad had another family
squirreled away in the prison, and they were the real priority in his life.
She reached into the cupboard and took out two cups, frowning as she set them down on the
greasy counter. Sammy claimed to have cleaned the kitchen this morning, but he'd done a sloppy
job. She'd have to talk to him about...
Dad said, You have to stop sending Dan money.
She knocked over one of the cups. Fumbling, throat constricting with fear, she righted it, amazed
that it hadn't broken or chipped.
No. He couldn't possibly know...oh, he must be so angry.
She turned around, swallowing hard, trying to think of some excuse, but he sat there looking at
her quietly, and he didn't look mad. The truth came tumbling out.
I...I tried, she said. I mean, I just loaned him a little. A few times. But he keeps calling. I
changed my cell number, but...
She blinked, hugging her arms around her waist. He came and met me after one of my classes,
strung out on something, I just gave him some money to make him go away again. But he keeps
coming around. Dan disheveled, twitching, talking too loud, her classmates staring as she
grabbed his arm and hurried him away...his whining... she gave in and pulled a few bills out of
her purse, his pathetic promises to pay her back real soon...
Dad pushed the chair back and walked over to her, putting his arms around her.
Melanie, I'm sorry. This has gone on long enough. Has he ever threatened you?
She bit her lip, unable to look at him. Once, she mumbled. But it was a while ago.

It doesnt matter how long ago, Dad said. We are going to go to the police station and get a
restraining order. He glanced at the clock. Its too late in the day now. Well go in tomorrow.
What good is a restraining order? she grumbled, reaching behind him to get the kettle and filling
the cups with shaking hands. Dan wasn't going to care about some piece of paper.
There must be rules about trespassers on campus, he said. We're going to look into that, too.
Does Dan have your new number? All right, you give me your phone, I'll get you a different
one, he said as she nodded. When he calls your number, I'll be the one who talks to him.
He doesn't call that often, Melanie said. Months go by sometimes.
We'll get you a new phone anyway. If he bothers you again, he will be arrested. Dan's not crazy
about jail, you know. Tell him that the next time he contacts you. Do you know where he
lives?He was giving serious thought to going to his eldest son's house and telling him, again, that
he was not welcome. How many times did he have to keep kicking him out of the family?
Melanie shook her head. I think he was living with some girl in Grover Heights for a while, but I
don't know if he's still there or not.
The police'll figure it out. It's their job.
Why do you care so much about Blue, Dad? As long as they were having all this openness, she
might as well get something out of it.
Parker considered the question. Because he's young and, genius he might be, he's still a stupid
kid. Because of where he had to grow up. Because he's had three strikes against him ever since he
came here. Because I'm all he's got.
She bit her lip. She hadn't even tried to visit him and Minion, not since she was twelve and her
mother made her go. After Mom's admittance to the psych ward, she had been scared and lost, and
Dad was so stressed out about everything. She was afraid to talk about Blue, afraid to talk about
anything, because anything she said might send Dad over the edge, too.
Not-talking was the way to go. Safer. She didn't like going to the prison and, though she felt bad
for Blue and Minion, it wasn't enough to make her want to go.
Plus Dan had become a major concern. Generally belligerent and hostile, he became even worse
after their mother was admitted. So she learned. Learned to keep an eye out for him, to notice
when he was in the house and when he snuck out, and if he came home drunk, and Dad wasn't
around, she learned to seize her little brother's hand and take him with her to go hide in her room.
Soon she and Sammy had a system worked out perfectly: keep out of Dan's way, and take care of
the house. They were so good at preparing meals, doing laundry, and getting their homework
done that it took a long time for Dad to realize that their big brother was not exactly the ideal
babysitter.
How do you feel about getting two new little brothers? said Dad.
Melanie snorted. Don't even joke about that.
He shrugged. You never know.
Melanie stared at him, gripping her tea cup. Have you talked to Mom about this?
She was the one who brought it up, when she was home.

I'm...surprised. She chewed her lip. You know she's not exactly mentally competent.
Well, I can get the process started. See what needs to be done. I get the feeling it's going to take a
long time to finalize anyway. I'm anticipating some major roadblocks.
She leaned back in the chair. You really want to go through with something like that. Just when
we're finally getting Dan out of... She pressed her lips together. And you want to bring those
two into the family.
Dad gave her a somber look. I know it won't be easy. But if I don't do everything I can for them
now, I will regret it for the rest of my life. There is so much I could have done better. Or sooner.
Daniel had plenty of chances. They've had almost none.
She tore open a wrapper off a tea bag and dunked it into the cup, spilling a little over the side,
clenching her teeth.
So, you adopt them, and then what? They move in? she snapped. Didn't she have enough to do
around here?
I don't know, he said quietly. They didn't have criminal records before, but they sure as hell do
now. Once they're in the legal system for real, maybe they'll get sent to juvenile hall. He gave a
short bark of laughter. Can you imagine Blue locked up with a bunch of other hotheads all the
same age? I don't know if either he or juvie would survive. The sponsors will probably...I don't
know what they'll do. Such a mess.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. He tried to take a sip of tea, but it was still too hot. He should have
tried to talk with the Scotts earlier, to see if some compromise could be worked out. Maybe they
would agree to provide a caretaker, or private tutors, if he could bring the boys home. If the courts
would allow it. If the Alien Oversight Committee would allow it.
A caretaker! Yeah, Blue would love that. Since I am not an infant, warden, I fail to see why I
require a nanny, he imagined Blue saying with a sneer.
Did he dare to try to send them to school again? Minion had not been enrolled at the Lil' Gifted
School, he had just sort of tagged along.
It would be nice to know, he thought, if we took the pressure off, and actually treated them as
something other than dangerous criminals, if they would settle down, be constructive. But he had
a bad feeling that he was attempting to dig in his heels against a thousand tons of runaway train.
He looked at Melanie. Her eyes were downcast, and she had a stony look on her face.
It would all be on me, he murmured. I don't expect you to look after them. You've done a fine
job looking after things, but I don't want to add to your burdens. And you've got school to think
of.
Melanie looked out the window, feeling her ears grow hot. Rain fell heavily against the glass and
a gust of wind made the branches of the maple tree in the backyard whip around. She struggled to
find some way out of the morass of resentment she found herself in.
Then she remembered something she hadn't thought about in years.
-----The last time she'd seen Blue and Minion had been in one of the visitation rooms at the prison.
Mom had taken her, Dan, and Sammy along as usual, but had left them to their own devices.

Melanie had taken along a stack of comic books to read as a defense mechanism. She often loaned
them to Blue. The comics were also handy things to hide behind, if Dan became too unpleasant.
This time Dan wasn't willing to leave her alone. While their mother, who had grown increasingly
distant and distracted over the past few months, stared blankly out the window, Dan kept pestering
Melanie, jabbing her in the back of the head, insulting her choice of reading material, and
suddenly he tore the comic out of her hands, ripping the cover.
Hey! she wailed, tears stinging her eyes.
Blue shouted Leave her alone! And charged, a little six year old whirlwind. Dan just about had
his legs kicked out from under him, but he soon recovered his balance and clobbered him over the
head.
Their mother turned around just in time to see Dan wallop the smaller boy.
Danny! she yelled, and sprang to life with a fury that caught them all by surprise. She grabbed
the arm of her hulking sixteen year old son and marched him out of the room.
Melanie, shaking, crouched down by Blue. Minion had hurried over to join the fray, but their
mother Joyce had reacted so quickly he hadn't had time to do anything.
I woulda bit him, Minion said, fins sweeping the water. Encased in the little two-foot-high robot
suit, he sat down on the floor next to Blue.
You'll get him next time, Minion. What a jerk, Blue growled, rubbing his head.
That was stupid, Sammy said, frowning. He's too big to fight.
For you, maybe, Blue snapped. Somebody's got to protect our sister.
Sammy went red in the face. She's not your sister! You really are stupid if you don't even know
that.
Sammy! Stop it! cried Melanie. She looked at Blue. I thought you were very brave. Are you
okay?
Yes, Blue said sullenly, and turned his back on the both of them.
But she'd seen the hurt in his eyes. And she hadn't told Sammy he was wrong.
------If they really are going to be part of the family, she said slowly, feeling her way along, then
we're all going to have to figure out how to get along. And if they move in... she sighed and
fidgeted with the tea cup. Well, they can't just rattle around the house all day by themselves.
They have to go to school, Dad. She frowned at him. What sort of schooling have they had
anyway?
He shifted in his chair. There have been a few tutors, over the years. None of them last long. It
became a game with him, to see how quickly he could drive them away.
That's encouraging, she said, taking a sip.
Tell me about it, he muttered, grimly raising his own cup to his lips. They sat quietly for a while,
drinking tea and pondering the difficulties that loomed ahead of them.

Melanie glanced at the clock above the sink. I have to go to class. Don't say anything about this
adoption business to Sammy yet. We should tell him together.
He looked puzzled. You don't think he'd take it well? She frowned back at him. He really didn't
know Sammy as well as she did.
Dad, I know he won't.
------Some genius in the Metro City Police Department put two and two together and realized that the
beast man they had locked up their strongest cell was wanted by the Viennese police. Ulrich
Hofstetter, unwilling to be hauled back to Vienna to face possible murder charges, had called DPI
that morning, demanding to be protected from extradition or he'd start talking about certain things
he really shouldn't be talking about.
It was very unwelcome news for Corbin, and he and his agents were discussing their options,
legal and otherwise, in regard to the matter, when a woman knocked lightly on the door and let
herself in. Corbin was in no mood for even the politest of intrusions, but she announced that she
was Dena Jackson from Internal Affairs and could she have a moment...?
There was an immediate hush and a rapid exodus of agents, and Corbin was alone in the room,
sweat filling his armpits, while the I.A. investigator sat herself down, adjusted her glasses, and
opened her briefcase.
A black woman of medium height, with braided hair tied firmly at the back of her neck, she wore
a dark purple blazer over a matching skirt, and glasses on a silver chain that hung around her neck,
which she set on the end of her nose and began turning pages in a large folder on her lap. She
rifled through the pages for an excessively long time, he was sure of it! Because it was the sort of
thing he would do, making the victim wait and squirm and lose their cool, waiting for the terrible
questions to begin.
After inquiring about his health, and offering sympathy for the injury he had sustained, the
questions began, the first one being her surprise at finding him here at the office, when usually
under such circumstances she would have expected him to take a leave of absence.
It's not required, he said shortly. I prefer to work.
I see. She adjusted her glasses on the end of her nose and began the interrogation.
He did fine, and stuck to his version of events, until right up near the end.
I'm sure you must be very busy, Agent Corbin, I just have a few more concerns, she said.
Now, according to the FBI negotiator who attempted to convince Megamind to surrender...
Those morons! Corbin fumed silently. We might have been able to use the cell phone signal to
track him. But they butt in and try to get him to pull over. Idiots!
Ms. Montgomery states that Megamind accused you of strangling him. Mentioned it twice, in
fact. Can you tell me why he would say something like that?
Just trying to make trouble, I think, Corbin said. In my attempt to subdue him, I did use a
choke hold. Common procedure, just like with cops.
Ms. Jackson bent her head and scribbled a note. According to the police report, the suspect was
apprehended by Metro Man at about 3:25 AM, and turned over to police at that time, and turned
over to your custody shortly thereafter, at approximately 3:35, does that seem about right?

He nodded. More or less. Wasn't looking at the clock.

Of course. Ms. Jackson nodded in understanding. You had the suspect to secure...excuse me,
two suspects. Very easy to overlook Minion. I understand that you believed he posed no threat at
the time?
She peered up at him over her glasses and he felt his hackles rising. He couldn't tell if she were
sympathizing with him or accusing him of negligence.
Yes, that's right, he said, when he was sure he could control his voice. He gestured at his face.
Guess it's easy to tell there's more to him than meets the eye. I'm not going to underestimate him
again.
But there is a minor discrepancy I need to address, said the infernal woman. It seems that,
according to the reports from both your department and of the FBI agents that came to offer
assistance, Megamind made his escape from the parking garage at 4:39 AM, over an hour later.
She looked at him with a penetrating stare. That is a very long time, Agent Corbin. Can you
explain what you were doing?
Corbin had prepared for this. It takes a good twenty-five minutes to drive from the south side
back to the federal building, he said, leaning back in his chair. And the morning commute gets
started pretty early around here. That's practically rush hour.
Oh, yes, I know, I live in Chicago now but I used to live here, a few years ago, she said with a
chuckle. It does get pretty bad, especially on the crosstown. So I went to the cabinet workshop
this morning at 3:35 and drove over your route.
Under the desk, Corbin dug his fingernails into his forearm.
And it took me about half an hour to reach the federal building. Thirty-one minutes, to be exact.
If traffic was as bad on the morning in question, that still leaves over half an hour unaccounted
for. Her eyes hardened. Did you stop anywhere on your way?
Corbin crossed his arms over his chest as a memory surfaced. Yes. As a matter of fact. I
remember now. The suspect complained of a stomach ache, claimed he was going to vomit. Agent
Bates pulled over, and we stayed parked by the side of the road until he felt ready to resume the
journey.
Try to find something wrong with that, he thought with a feeling of triumph. And it was the truth
too! Somehow he hadn't even thought to include it in his original report. That must have been
when he palmed the lock pick. Had it hidden somewhere on him, one of his boots, maybe, or a
seam in his clothing.
For some reason, Ms. Jackson did not seem impressed. One of her eyebrows lifted slightly. You
were parked on the side of the road for half an hour, she said, her voice flat.
His eyes darted away before he could stop himself. Yes, well, not quite that long. Traffic was
bad.
Expressionless, she wrote something down on her notepad.
Agent Corbin, she said, removing her glasses and letting them fall to the end of their slender
chain. She leaned her forearms on the desk, resting one over the other. It is imperative that your
statements on the night in question are as accurate as possible. There have been an unusually large
number of complaints associated with DPI. Mistreatment of prisoners, excessive use of force,

violation of rights, and so forth. This situation has produced fourteen new lawsuits. I will need to
see the security video from the parking garage as soon as possible. Now, unfortunately, since
Director Goldberg has already requested it, I will now have to go through channels in order to...
Goldberg! He can't... Corbin blurted, and she gave him a sharp look. He forced himself to talk
more quietly. I mean, it's just that Assistant Director Nichols and I have already decided that it's
in the best interests of the agency that the tape remain in my possession, for the time being.
She stared at him in silence for several frantic thuds of his heart.
It is not up to you or the Assistant Director to pick and choose which procedures to follow, she
said coldly. Director Goldberg expects to receive the tape soon, by the end of the week if
possible, so that it can then be sent to me. She shook her head in annoyance. All the way to
Washington, just so they can send it all the way back here, she grumbled.
I'm sure I don't need to remind you that your statements will be matched against what is seen on
tape. If you remember anything else about that night, anything at all no matter how insignificant, it
would be in your best interests to notify me right away. Now, do you need to talk to someone on
our legal team? I would advise it.
As if he'd go running to I.A. for legal advice! What kind of fool did she take him for! He worked
his jaw. I don't need defense.
Very well. Straightening back up, she rearranged a few papers and closed the folder. She took
her business card out of her pocket and laid it on the desk. In case you suddenly remember
anything else. Tucking the folder into her briefcase she stood up. Corbin stood up as well,
operating on automatic.
Good day, Agent Corbin. She nodded and went out.
----It took another half hour for Corbin to track down Nichols over the phone.
What happened to your good buddy Mike in Internal Affairs? Corbin snarled. I had an officer
from I.A. grilling me this morning.
Mike's in the hospital. Pneumonia, said Nichols in a distant sort of voice.
Fine time to get sick! Goldberg can't see that tape. What the hell is the matter with you? He sees
that footage, I'm ruined. The little freak was blabbing about Tanaka, too, if they hear that, they're
going to take another look, real close, at the Tanaka robbery. Is that what you want?
It's the best I could do, Goldberg wanted to summon you here so you could report to him
personally! I tried, you've got to believe me, Nichols hissed. Panic oozed from the phone. That
Parker is making a big stink, his lawyer is demanding to see the tape too, these lawsuits,
Goldberg's poking around in everything.
Corbin pounded a fist on the desk. He cannot see it. Get Psi-link to give him a little mental nudge
in the right direction.
There was a short pause. Nichols cleared his throat. Well...actually...
Corbin pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and sighed heavily. All right, what
happened?

He's in the hospital too. Got hit by a bus.

A psychic got hit by a bus. Seriously? He really didn't see it coming at all?
You know he's just an empath! He was trying to improve his precognition. The ambulance
workers said he was walking around with a blindfold.
Corbin put the phone down on the desk and rubbed his hands over his eyes to compose himself.
His palm brushed against the scabs marring his cheek and he trailed his fingers down to touch his
lip. Scar tissue pulled the skin back, making the corner of his mouth curve slightly up into a
genteel snarl, leaving two of his teeth exposed and prone to drying out.
He breathed hard, rage building in him. A good-looking man, he was used to catching admiring
glances from women, and enjoyed a certain amount of envy from other men.
No longer. The lopsided oval pattern of scars on his face made him look like a bumbling idiot who
had crashed head first into a barb-wire fence. Now people glanced at him and quickly looked
away again, or avoided looking at him at all.
That fish's life will be measured in hours when I get my hands on him, he thought. Roasted alive.
And Megamind will watch every second of his friend's agony.
He picked up the phone receiver again.
Nichols's drone floated through the air even before he brought it to his ear. ...handle him. Doesn't
even need a collar, you said. You can't handle one little alien boy. You know, this would be easier
if he had shot you, nobody'd listen to him then. Imagine the roadblocks. Every cop and his brother
would run him to ground. He took a long drink of something. Corbin guessed that it wasn't
water.
Would you shut up? Corbin snapped. You have got to convince Goldberg and I.A. that they
don't need to see the tape. Got that?
You better stop harassing the Parkers. Nichols said.
Like hell I will, Corbin growled. Parker knows something and I'm going to find out what. Just
for getting up Corbin's nose, the warden would pay.
You got to ask yourself, Nichols slurred. How does that pencil-pusher, who can barely keep
up with his mortgage or pay his wife's medical bills, struggling to put a daughter through college,
how does he afford a high-powered attorney like Miranda Tolliver? Ask yourself that.
Corbin barely stopped himself from slamming the phone against the desk. Just. Tell me. He had
no patience left for riddles.
There are currents, my friend, and cross-currents. Better for you if you just leave the Parkers
alone, Ed. Quit sending interrogators to the missus. She's in the mental ward, for God's sake.
Otherwise you might bring on the wrath of certain...people. If you want to get out of this scott
free, you'll take my advice. He gave a slightly hysterical giggle.
Corbin's mouth twitched in irritation at Nichols's exaggeration, but his brows knitted together in
consternation. Are you saying...
Yep. They are watching from afar. Keeping a roof over his head, paying the bills, giving the
warden a free lawyer, etcetra.

But why? he said, mystified. Why would the Scotts, one of the richest families in the country
and with their own orphaned alien boy to look after, why would they care what happened to that
hell-raising brat?
Beats me, Nichols hiccuped again. Maybe they got a soft spot for little lost alien orphans. Lady
Scott's got about two hundred worthy causes keeping her busy. Maybe this is one of 'em. Maybe
she thinks her boy and the prison brat were best buddies in school or something. Who the hell
cares? Just take my advice and keep out of Parker's hair.
Fine, Corbin growled. But I am telling you right now. You get I.A. off my back and get
Goldberg to rescind that request for the security tape. If I go down, I am not going down alone.
You hear me? You better be sober tomorrow when you go in.
He slammed the phone back into its cradle.
----Corbin did most of his shopping at night. Not only did people avoid his gaze, he avoided theirs as
well, so he wouldn't see their mingled looks of pity and wariness.
He walked quickly through the aisles of Big Mart. As he put things into the basket, images of
Megamind in chains overlaid his vision.
I will wipe that arrogant smirk off his face once and for all, he thought, picking up packages of
Hamburger Helper. A set of ankle chains. Two sets of chains. Better yet, lets see how well he can
run with broken ankles. See how fast he heals from that.
He was not too concerned about what the Scotts would do. They obviously werent willing to
stick their necks out too far, especially since Megamind vandalized their mansion. Maybe they
were even now informing Mrs. Tolliver to drop the lawsuits and strike the warden from her list of
clients.
Hey, its not like I have much choice, he imagined telling the groaning alien lying before him. I
don't have to be the bad guy. You brought this on yourself. You shouldn't have attacked me and
run away. Are you really any better off? Your only friend dead, and you crippled? And guess
what, you still have to work for me, for the rest of your life. How long that is, well, that's up to
you.
He blinked, and realized he had been staring at the same shelf for who knew how long. Dropping
a can of soup into the basket, he brought his items to the checkout. But while the cashier rang up
his purchases, he once again became lost in thought.
Pressure cuffs, he thought. Let's see him wriggle out of those. Pressure cuffs were extremely
illegal and banned in most countries, including the United States, for their tendency to cause
gangrene, but Corbin knew where he could get a hold of a set. Megamind was a flight risk, he
should insert a tracking device under his skin, between the shoulder blades where he couldn't get
at it. A couple of other supers Corbin knew had clawed such devices out of their arms, so
desperate were they to flee.
The cashier cleared his throat for a second time. Corbin pulled his thoughts back to the present
moment and looked at the cashier's apologetic smile.
This card doesn't work, the man said.
It's a debit card, Corbin said. Of course it works.

It says insufficient funds.

Corbin reached out, took the card back, and stared at it. Yes, this was his bank card, not one of his
credit cards. Insufficient funds? That couldn't be right.
Run it through again.
With a slight grimace, the cashier ran it through again. Sorry, sir, he said, pressing his lips
together in sympathy. Would you like to try another card?
Feeling light headed, Corbin shook his head and scrounged around in his pockets until he came up
with enough cash to buy the cereal, two boxes of Hamburger Helper, and the milk, then hurried
over to the store's ATM machine. Normally he only used the ATM next to his bank because there
was no fee, but he had to know. It took two tries to punch in the correct PIN number and he
snatched at the receipt as it blipped out of its little slot.
The balance on his account read $0.00.
He drove home in a wave of panic and rage, and got back to his apartment just in time to catch a
phone call from a collection agency, regarding a state-of-the-art washer and dryer that he definitely
had not purchased, but which the caller was equally certain that he had. It was to be the first of
many such calls.
----When Corbin talked about it the next day, he received no sympathy.
You think you got it bad, Bates snapped, glaring at him with red-rimmed eyes. I been getting
collection agencies calling us half the night too. Because of $2,000 worth of overdue fines from
the library! And a hotel bill from the Plaza, with all this room service for a masuesse and adult
movies! Jessie was giving me hell. I had to sleep on the couch.
At least you guys get to go home, Wachowski cried. I've been getting these bills for these 1900 numbers. Darlene threw me out. He fished a pack of cigarettes out of a rumpled suit pocket.
I'm gonna break his neck.
Corbin came around the desk and grabbed the cigarettes out of his hand. The little freak has to be
taken alive, and seen to be alive, he said, eyes hard. Wachowski glared at him and sullenly
looked away.
He looked around at the small group assembled in the office. Only me, Bates, and Wachowski
got hammered with this crap. We're the only ones he knows by name. And the offshore accounts
are untouched. Which means he hasn't hacked the computers. If he had, he'd have found the
profiles of the other two who were with us the night he got arrested. Now let me hear what you've
got on the leads.
There was a collective sigh and rustling of paper. Got this weird case, some guy got his ear bitten
off. Couldve been Minion.
Corbin waved an impatient hand and the agent continued. Tyler Chadwick, age 26, hes got a
rap sheet a mile long. Says he saw an abandoned car and stopped to render assistance...yeah,
right...found someone passed out in the front seat, and then, I quote, the guy threw a severed head
at me, like the headless horseman, and it was all full of teeth and it bit my ear off. Unquote.
Any other description? He talk to this guy?

You mean before or after he got his ear chewed off? muttered Bates.
Nobody likes a smart-ass, Bates. Well? Is that it? No other information?
The agent shrugged. Thats about it.
You got his address? Go question him again. Find out where this abandoned car was. Come
on, people! Give me something I can use, Corbin snapped. Lets go over the uncles again.
All of the uncles have come up clean. Victor Spinelli, Julio Gomez, Patrick Pudge O'Riley, Leo
Naborov, and Jack Hughes. O'Riley has a cabin up north, but we've checked it out, no one's used
it in years.
What about the robbery victims? Anything?
Ross raised his head. Noticed one thing. He stood up and walked to the front of the room with a
video tape. This is from the Kum 'n Go gas station. He inserted the tape into the player and
stepped back. They all watched as the recording showed a grainy image of Megamind lurch into
view, Minion clutched in one arm and the semi-automatic gripped in his other hand. There was no
sound; most public surveillance systems do not record sound as this is considered to be an
invasion of privacy.
Watch his reaction here. Look, Ross said, pointing at the screen. The clerk says Megamind
walked in, forced everyone out, then demanded his car. But see here? Once all the customers are
gone, Megamind's body language changes, his shoulders slump, he becomes more relaxed. And
here, the clerk says something, and Megamind closes his eyes and hangs his head, and then looks
up again, and only then raises the gun. Doesn't even point it at him, points it at the ceiling.
Temporary dizziness, Corbin said.
Could be. Or emotional distress over something the clerk said. Ross rewinded the tape and
showed it again. He was very vague in his official statements. I think Megamind and this Ronald
Jenkins know each other. They've met before.
Corbin slowly paced the length of the room, one hand resting on his chin. The leads were getting
pretty weak, if this is what they had to go with. But he would pursue every lead that came his
way, no matter how unlikely it seemed.
All right. Bring in Ronnie Jenkins for questioning.
----But when Ross and Psycho Delic went to collect Ronnie Jenkins, they were informed by his
roommate that he had taken off for the weekend. Where he was going he wasn't sure, though he
quickly recalled, once Psycho Delic invaded his personal space and began grinning at him, that he
thought he might have been planning on visiting his grandparents in Grand Rapids.
----The next day dawned under a beautiful cloudless sky.
The routine in the federal building was well underway, with two hours to go until lunch, when the
lights went out. Every computer screen went blank, and the security cameras went dead. Everyone
in the DPI and FBI offices groaned and complained. The emergency lights came on and sunlight
still came in the windows so they weren't in complete blackness, but annoyance turned to alarm
when someone went to push open a door that led out to a hallway and discovered that it was

locked.
Every door that had an electronic lock was shut tight, which was nearly every door in the
building, except for a few maintenance closets that used keys, and the restrooms. Everyone was
trapped where they were, except for a few that had been in the restrooms, but the most they could
do was go out into the halls. They couldn't even use the emergency exits. And all the landlines
were dead.
Eventually, the FBI director remembered the number of the guard at the front door and called him
on their cell phone.
I can't get out, either, the guard said, looking out the plate glass of the doors and shaking the
handles. Of course, they remained closed, but it was the same impulse that compelled people to
repeatedly hit elevator buttons. I called the power company, they're working on it. We could
break out if we really had to.
No, don't do that. No need for property damage. It's not like we're really in any danger here.
Director Lewis frowned and lifted the blinds at his window. His office door had been closed at the
time, and, since it had its own lock, he was trapped inside. I don't understand why all the doors
are locked. This can't be right. What if there were a fire? What kind of half-assed system is this?
Shouldn't it account for power outages and be designed so that it doesn't trap every living person
inside?
The guard gave a heavy sigh. I don't know, sir, I've never seen it freeze up so bad. Thing is...
What?
It's funny, but this is the only building on the street that lost power.
----When the lights flickered out, Wheeler wasn't unduly alarmed, just irritated.
Oh, what the... he muttered, his hands still within the hole cut into the cyborg's chest.
Within seconds the back-up lights filled the basement lab with their faint glow, half as bright as
before, though barely enough so he could see what he was doing. He looked around the room,
crowded with monitors and shelves full of electronics. The glow from the alien's laser gun was
more noticeable with the other lights dimmed. The Department of Paranormal Investigations had
claimed it, and the police department had grudgingly delivered it that morning, in a locked case.
Wheeler didn't see the need for such extreme caution and had taken it out. Typical of the cops to
treat everything associated with Megamind as a potential explosive.
Two settings were clearly marked on it, -hydrate and -stroy, with the suffix de- scribbled on
the barrel in black marker. It was pretty primitive looking, actually, and did not have the sleek
design that Wheeler would have associated with a laser gun made by an alien life form. It looked
like part of the housing had been shaped out of an aluminum can, but he supposed the alien boy
had been forced to use whatever was at hand when he constructed it. What really interested
Wheeler was the strange, tear-drop shaped power source encased within it. Corbin instructed him
to find out as much as he could about it, and the laser gun would receive his attention next, once
he finished running a few more tests on the fish's robot suit.
One of the hip joints on it had been broken right in half, and the knee on the other leg scrunched,
clearly the result of a severe impact. Replacing them had been a straightforward procedure. Soon
he would have control over the whole suit.

Naresh, go see if you can find out what's going on. I want to get this last wire done.
Okay, Joe, said Naresh in his light Indian accent. He took off his goggles, put down the wire
stripper, and went out through the open door. They kept it propped open with a stop most of the
time for extra air circulation.
And figure out what that pounding is, he called after him. He frowned. It sounded as if the guys
down the hall were knocking on a door and calling for help. The fans in the ceiling slowly
hummed to a stop, and the lab was in almost total silence. He heard Naresh's footsteps echoing on
the linoleum. The pounding stopped and he looked back over his shoulder, listening to the muffled
voices down the hall.
Naresh came back, leaning into the room and hanging by one hand from the doorframe. Stan and
Liz are trapped in their lab, he said. Can't get their door open. I'm going to get help. He hurried
out again. After a moment he called out, Hey, I can't get to the stairs. It's locked! My key card
doesn't work, either. The metallic sound of Naresh yanking on the handle echoed off the walls.
Wheeler scowled.
Well, go try the stairs to the garage! he shouted.
Naresh, grumbling, walked back down the hall.
Wheeler peered again into the cavity of the robot chest and finished splicing the last wire into the
coil, wondering how the fish controlled such a massive piece of equipment. A panel at the base of
the robot's neck seemed to be the interface, but how did Minion access it? Very little video footage
of Minion existed, and Wheeler had closely studied what little there was, trying to see if those
tendril things were actually tentacles, but they didn't seem to move.
In any case, surely Minion couldn't touch the panel through the material of the containment unit,
whether with fins or tentacles. Neural implants? Perhaps the fish had electrodes in his brain. He
could hardly wait to get Minion in his possession so he could find out. Agent Corbin was pretty
hot to kill the fish, and no wonder, but Wheeler would have to convince him to at least wait until
he could determine exactly how Minion controlled the mechanical body. He would go with the
captives when Corbin took them back to Washington.
The darkness made it difficult to finish hooking up the last wire, but he was so close to finishing
he completed the task by feel. He exhaled and straightened, pulling off his safety goggles.
Footsteps behind him indicated that Naresh had come back.
Wheeler picked up the control panel he had made specifically for the job, heavy wires trailing
from it that ran into the robot suit.
Look at this, Naresh, let's see if we can get this baby to move. He moved the joystick and the
robot body raised its arm straight out to the side. Wheeler's face split into a huge grin.
There, it works, he said, tilting his head over his shoulder while keeping an eye on the robot.
I've got control of one arm. Hello, Naresh, he said in a falsetto voice, shifting the controls to
make the arm raise up higher. He only managed a feeble up and down movement, though, and he
tried jiggling the joystick to make it wave. Come over here and gimme five!
Naresh cleared his throat. I-I can't. Uh, Joe, I think you should turn around.
But I can't move, Naresh, I don't have a brain! Wheeler trilled.
The robot body moved with a sudden jerk of its shoulders. Wheeler started back in surprise.

Then the thing came straight at him, and its right hand reached out and grabbed a handful of his
shirt and lab coat. Shocked, he looked stupidly down at the controls, then at the metal fist
tightening its grip on his clothing, then back at the robot that, even headless, radiated menace.
Behind him a dry voice said, Well, at least the legs appear to be functional.
Another voice cried, Aw man, I can't move the other arm at all! Sir, he's messed it up!
Gasping, heart pounding, Wheeler grabbed at the robot's fist. The thing had such a grip he
couldn't turn around, but by looking over his shoulder he caught a glimpse of Naresh, with his
hands up in the air.
Don't worry, Minion, I'm sure we can fix whatever theyve done. All Right, Joe Scientist, as you
see, Minion can control his robot suit when he is within range. I suggest you put down that control
panel.
Yeah. Carefully, the first voice snapped.
Shaking, Wheeler looked around, but no table was close enough. After moving the control panel
back and forth, uselessly trying to set it down. Megamind snapped, For evil heaven's sake.
Naresh, lie face down on the floor and dont move.
Wheeler got his first look at the alien being known as Megamind when he came to his side then,
holding a gun in his black-gloved hand, wearing a black Inverness coat, collar turned up, with a
red scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. Minion glared at Wheeler from the baby harness
strapped to Megamind's chest. It said Snugli on the front. Wheeler handed over the control
panel.
Megamind peered at it and the rope of wires that attached it to the suit. Wheeler stared at the blue
skin, noticing how it paled and blended into pink along the aliens cheekbones and ear tips. What
a big head. Imagine the brain inside!
Can we cut them? Minion asked.
Megamind gave a slow shake of his head. I don't think that would be a good idea. We'll have to
take it with us and dismantle it properly, to ensure no damage is done. Or at least no further
damage. He glared at Wheeler, the looked around the lab. Ah, duct tape. Just the thing. Walk
the suit over here with us, Minion.
All together they proceeded to over to a shelf along the wall, Wheeler walking briskly along on
tiptoe so he wouldnt get dragged.
Move him over, will you? Megamind said, holstering the gun and tearing off a strip of tape.
The arm holding Wheeler straightened, forcing him to stumble to the side.
How do you do that? he blurted. How do you make it move?
The two aliens glanced at each other with sly looks.
Its magic, Megamind said, mouth twitching into a grin, waving a hand through the air and
waggling his eyebrows.
Yeah, magic, Minion said with a toothy grin of his own.
Megamind strapped the control panel to the side of the robot suit with three lengths of duct tape,

then lifted Minion out of the harness and placed him on top of the headless shoulders.
Finally! Minion cried. Now that's more like it. They smiled at each other.
Test out the legs a little more.
Minion danced a few steps, Wheeler shuffling along. They seem all right, he said doubtfully,
looking sideways at Wheeler. Guess they fixed them okay. Theyre not too stiff.
Good. We wont need the trolley then. Megamind turned, then did a double-take.
My de-gun! he shouted, and dashed across the room to pick it up. I can't believe it! I thought it
was locked up at the police station. Look, Minion! Well, this will save us a trip. Ha ha ha!
Minion laughed with delight and Wheeler's stomach turned over as Minion's arm shot up. Stop!
Stop! he gurgled. Minion lowered him to the ground again.
And you were just going to let me walk out of here without it, weren't you, you naughty
scientists? Megamind said, grinning an evil grin and looking down the barrel of the de-gun. Tsk,
tsk. He clucked his tongue and shook his head. Still broken. At least you haven't meddled with
it yet. Really, such a potentially dangerous object should not be left in the hands of the likes of you
government types.
They tied up Wheeler and Naresh, and left them on the floor. Megamind kicked away the
doorstop and the door closed and locked behind them, exacatly like all the others in the building,
just as hed programmed them to do.
Can we go to the police station anyway, Sir? Minion asked as they walked down the corridor.
Megamind gave him a puzzled frown. Why?
Minion made a fist. I was gonna go have a few words with Ulrich, he growled.
Megamind grinned and shook his head. No. At this point it would be a needless risk.
The little ichthyoids mouth turned down. Well...can we at least pay that Wachowski a visit? Ill
show him what its like to be a punching bag.
I dont think so, Minion. Wachowskis a mere tool. He will fall when Corbin falls. Your thirst for
rev-ahnge is noteworthy, but we must pick our battles.
As they reached the exit that led to the stairs to the parking garage, Megamind unhooked the new
key-o-matic from his belt, as the door had automatically locked behind them after theyd entered,
but Minion said, Ooo, wait, wait! Can I break down the door?
Megamind gave him an exasperated look. Settle down, filet mignon. Thats reinforced steel!
Your body would get damaged from the impact. Now I have no doubt that you could do it, he
continued as Minion made a little grumble of disappointment, If our lives depended on it, that
door wouldnt stand a chance! But lets not take unnecessary risks. All right? He clapped the
faithful ichthyoid on the shoulder.
Tell you what, he said, pressing the key-o-matic to the handle. Anybody gets in our way, you
get first crack at em.
------

Back in their mobile commando unit (aka the new van) Megamind pulled the red scarf up over the
lower part of his face so only his eyes were visible and straightened the upturned collar. Then he
held a wide brimmed black fedora over his eyes so his features were hidden. Actually wearing the
hat was out of the question as it was too small. For any hat to fit him, it would have to be
ridiculously huge.
How's that? he said.
A little more to the right, I can still see your head. There, you're all covered, Sir.
Is the cape visible?
Minion looked through the viewfinder on the camera. Yeah, I can see you from the waist up.
That short cape looks good, Sir.
Excellent. All right, Minion. Action.
----Throughout the federal building, every computer screen sprang to life. Every trapped, bored
employee in the FBI and DPI offices came away from the windows and darkened break rooms to
look at the black-clothed figure that appeared on every screen, holding a black hat in a blackgloved hand in front of his face.
Who knows what eeeee-vil lurks in the hearts of men, a low, raspy voice intoned. The Shadow
knows. Heh heh heh heh.
The hat was lowered to reveal Megamind's glittering eyes.
In his locked office, Corbin leaned on the desk, face hardening.
On the screen Megamind waggled his eyebrows a few times, then exhaled and yanked away the
red scarf. Oh, I don't know about this scarf. So scratchy, and you can't even see my incredibly
handsome features. I mean, this cape is all right. He swiveled back and forth, making the short
cape on the coat swish around. But I'm not quite settled on a look yet. At least I don't have to
worry about a secret identity. Hey, Agent Corbin, did you know there used to be this stodgy old
radio show about some vigilante called the Shadow? Some comic books, a bunch of novels, I
think there's even a movie out there somewhere, but I haven't had time to see it yet. Under the
circumstances, it seemed appropriate that I should borrow the persona. Know what I mean?
He smiled into the camera, then leaned in close. But don't worry, Agent Corbin, he said in a
stage whisper. Your secret is safe with me. He gave the camera a big wink. Chuckling, he
backed up again, twirling the hat on one finger before tossing it aside.
Hey, thanks for getting my de-gun back for me. Saves me the trouble of breaking into the police
station to retrieve it. Though if their security is anything like yours, it's not like it would have been
that much trouble. All the locks can be accessed from the central unit. I mean, really, he shook
his head. Look what happened. He shrugged and made a face. Live and learn, I always say.
Oh, and Minion got his robot suit back, see? Say hi, Minion.
The camera jiggled, Megamind left the frame, then Minion's face appeared. Hi, he said brightly.
Megamind's voice floated in from off-screen. Thanks to those lab rats you've got living in the
basement, one of his arms is out of order, but never fear, I'll fix that straight away. Minion's face
disappeared from the screen, the camera shook wildly as he turned it, showing the interior of a van
covered with blinking lights, and Megamind appeared again.

Well, I don't like leaving you poor agents in the lurch, so I've taken the liberty of informing the
fire department of your predicament. They should arrive shortly.
The black eyebrows made deep furrows in the blue brow. Oohhhhh, I just had a thought. You
might not like so much publicity, being such hush-hush government types. Probably a few media
folks will notice the commotion and tag along too. Well, darn it all to heck, I should have thought
about that before. But then again, publicity is publicity. What's a few more eggs on a few more
faces? He rolled his eyes and shrugged. Have fun climbing out the windows. Ciao ciao all!
Megamind smiled, waggled his fingers at the screen, and then made a cutting motion with one
hand. The screens went dark.
-----Later that evening, the warden watched the news, chin propped on one hand. On the screen,
figures climbed out windows and down ladders, assisted by firefighters. Melanie curled up in the
other easy chair, reading Advance Cytology.
Guess theyre alive and well, Dad, she said without looking up.
Looks like, Parker sighed, and took a sip from his Scotch on the rocks.
Director Lewis appeared on the screen, looking very irate. Offscreen a reported asked, Can you
explain how Megamind was able to get by your security so easily?
Well, I wouldnt say easily, Lewis said. But this is clearly a wake-up call. We plan a
complete overhaul of our system.
What sort of danger does this pose to the public, if Megamind can walk into any building he
chooses? What is the government going to do about it?
Lewis cleared his throat. We are doing everything we can to track down this clearly dangerous
individual. But I dont think...
Is it true you decided to evacuate the building, rather than wait for power to be restored, because
you believed Megamind had planted explosives, or was going to pump poisonous gas into the
vents?
Lewis blinked and shoved his glasses up his nose. What? No! Its just a precaution. Thats an
unsubstantiated rumor.
Melanie highlighted a few lines in the text book. Wow. Nice. Still want him in the family, Dad?
Parker glanced at her. He wouldnt send poison into the vents, Melanie. Blue would never do
anything like that. Sighing he raised the glass again. Helium, maybe, but not poison, he
muttered, and drank the rest of the Scotch. Im going to bed.
As he climbed the stairs, he was once again haunted by the nagging feeling that he was
overlooking something. Or someone.

The Sixth Uncle

Chapter Notes

"People aren't either wicked or noble. They're like chef salads, with good things and
bad things chopped and mixed together in a vinaigrette of confusion and conflict." Lemony Snicket, "The Grim Grotto"

Harry Chambers stood in line at the post office, waiting to mail his daughter her wedding gift. She
had eloped two months ago. The letter she'd written him had been full of enthusiasm, begging him
to understand, and declaring that Duncan was the love of her life.
Harry's ex-wife had called him while he was still in prison to voice her disappointment.
She says she's not pregnant. I don't believe it, she'd grumbled. That useless, no account...Says
he's a poet. Sits around staring at trees all day or some damn thing.I'll bet she'll end up supporting
him!
He went to stand behind a middle-aged woman with two fidgeting children and fished out the
photo that Brianna had sent him of her and her new husband. They both wore big smiles and
Harry thought the guy had a kind face. He felt sad that she hadn't had a regular wedding. Couldn't
she have waited until he was out? She'd known when his parole was going to start.
Sighing, he tucked the photo back into his pocket and shifted the package of bath towels under his
other arm as the line began to move forward. After this he would go spend some time at the track.
If Brianna had married a nice man, surely that was good luck, and he held onto that thought. He
had to work up the positive vibes to increase his chances. He dug around in another jacket pocket
for the racing form to study the numbers. Positive vibes and the right calculations, he just had to
find the right combination to help him win. After a few moments he tucked it back into his jacket.
Wiping his watery eyes with a handkerchief, he took another step forward and looked up into a
poster of Megamind and Minion tacked to the wall.
WANTED, the headline said, and, underneath that, $200,000 REWARD.
He gaped at it, frozen, then forced his eyes away and stared hard at the backs of the people in
front of him, but his heart thudded heavily in his chest. The children giggled and swung around on
the posts that marked the aisle while their mother scolded them.
Two hundred thousand dollars.
His scalp prickled with sweat with all those zeros staring at him. He had embezzled a lot of cash in
his life, but it had all been spread out over about twenty-two years or so. He'd never seen that
much money in one place at one time. Ever.
Shock at that impossible amount made his palms sweaty. He shifted the package under his other
arm and wiped his free hand on his pants. He'd had no idea that they were so...so wanted.
Couldn't this stupid line move faster?!

It was with considerable relief that he got the package delivered and he marched out of the post
office without looking at the poster again, but that gigantic number followed him out the door.
Walking down the sidewalk to the bus stop, his brain clicked and began working again, buzzing
with possibility.
The full enormity of hiding the most wanted fugitives of Metro City hit him like a sack of bricks.
Of course, he would never...he just couldn't...
Pretty Paulie was running in the fourth race that afternoon, at 43 to 1 odds. Next weekend, another
long shot, Light As Air, was running, currently at 57 to 1.
Imagine what he could do with that lump of cash!
With winnings like that, he could move out of that roach motel, buy his own car so he wouldn't
have to take the bus anymore, get some decent clothes that hadn't come from Big Savers or the
Salvation Army, clothes that nobody had ever worn even once...
He ran both his hands across the back of his neck, mouth dry. Somehow he reached the bus stop
without tripping over his own feet and stood at the curb, staring down the street.
A grubby white man who had been sitting on a low concrete wall sidled over to him but he
ignored him. If he didn't make eye contact, the panhandler would be less likely to ask him for
spare change.
That you, Harry? the man said, tilting his head, and Harry recognized Vic Spinelli, one of the
uncles.
Oh! Hey, Vic, he said, forcing a smile. Why now, why now, why now? he thought miserably,
feeling like an anchor had dropped into his stomach.
Good to see you, Vic said, grinning with yellow teeth. How ya been? Been out long?
No, not too long, replied Harry, looking around for the damn bus again. Hopefully Vic wasn't
taking the same bus.
Vic had only gotten into Blue's uncles by bribery. He'd been kicked out by another gang for being
a stoolie. Constantly ducking and hiding from his former buddies, he began slinking around after
Blue and Minion, because any disturbance around them tended to draw the protective presence of
the uncles, thereby bringing a small measure of protection for Vic. And he knew Blue was a
sucker for candy, so he'd wormed his way into the group by slipping the kid a steady supply of
sweets.
None of the uncles liked him much but driving him away took a time-sucking amount of energy
that none of them were willing to expend right then. Vic could take an enormous amount of abuse
and come back the next day, slinking and wheedling and begging for a place in the group. The
amount of force necessary to drive him off for good might have upset the kids too much, so the
other uncles, very reluctantly, allowed him to stay. And he was an okay guardian, so long as the
others were around to keep an eye on him. He wasn't dangerous, exactly, just a nuisance. The
other uncles never would have allowed him in if he really posed any sort of threat to Blue or
Minion, but he was careless and couldn't keep from running his mouth off.
Of course, Vic's skulking and eavesdropping sometimes proved advantageous to the uncles as
well, so his continued presence in the group depended heavily on this skill as, over time, even
Blue and Minion came to look on him with distrust and pity.

Vic launched straight into a rant about how not only the cops but the feds themselves kept coming
around and pestering him with questions about the kid.
I been tellin' 'em, I haven't seen him, not hide nor hair, not that he's got much of that, he giggled,
but my mom is getting' mad at me, like it's my fault these guys keep bangin' on the door. He
shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. But man, you see those
wanted posters at the post office? I was just in there the other day, I've got my own PO box. Got
some magazines I don't want comin' to the house, know what I mean? He winked broadly and
laughed, nudging Harry on the arm with his elbow. Harry nodded and pressed his lips together,
grinning in embarrassment.
Vic huffed out a long breath. Think about what you could do with that cash! I mean, I would
never, ever, say nothing, right? He waved his hands in the air and shook his head. Not like I've
seen him anyway. But man, those feds were the worst. Damn 'em. He frowned and muttered
something under his breath.
So what are you up to these days? Harry said, struggling to remember if Vic had any kind of
job, or did anything other than try to wriggle out of shoplifting charges.
Vic glanced at him sideways, Why? Who wants to know? he said suspiciously.
I...uh...
Vic burst out laughing. I'm just messin' with ya! Geez, man, chill out. Not doing too much. Went
to the movies yesterday, told mom I'm looking for a job just to get her out of my hair. I'm looking
at my options, got some stuff lined up, but nothing's come through yet, he said vaguely. So
where you headed?
Harry peered down the street, willing the bus to come and put him out of his misery. Oh, you
know, the track. Got some good tips.
Gonna hit the big time today, I'll bet! Vic said jovially, nudging him again. Harry took half a
step to the side to get out of elbow range.
The bus swung into view around the corner and he took a deep breath of relief. I think that's my
bus. Nice to see you again, Vic. Take care of yourself, now. He stuck out his hand and Vic
shook it with a goofy grin.
Hey, that's my bus too. But hey, you look busy. Don't let me keep you! See you around, man.
He slapped Harry's shoulder and wandered over to the line loosely forming by the bus stop sign.
Harry gritted his teeth and got in line too.
Vic sat at the back. Harry took a place near the front on the hard plastic seat with worn covers.
Harry looked out the window while his thoughts chased each other around like rabid squirrels and
became even more treacherous.
Maybe it really would be better off if those boys were returned to the warden. Surely Mister
Parker would never turn them over to the ones who had treated them so cruelly, no matter what
sort of warrants they came up with. He knew Parker had a good lawyer, she could protect them,
couldn't she? Build a wall of legalese around them so tight that no one could get at them.
And if so many were hot on their trail, especially with a reward like that, wouldn't someone get
the reward anyway? Why shouldn't it be Harry?

He pulled both hands down over his face, blinking hard.

How could he even think about it? Megamind slipped out every night with Minion strapped to
him, and always came back laden with food, and bags of mysterious gadgets that he'd stow away
in a corner. The corner cabinet was so full of Pop Tarts you could hardly get it closed.
And just the other day Harry found four hundred dollars stuffed in his wallet that definitely hadn't
been there before, but when he tried to give it back, Megamind waved him off.
You saved our lives, Uncle Harry. I won't forget it. He'd grinned and tapped the side of his big
blue head. I couldn't if I tried!
Megamind had once again become his usual hyperactive self. Both he and Minion healed so well
that Harry actually had trouble remembering how messed up they'd been when he first found them
lying on his couch. Other than the thin white lines that marked his forearm, Megamind appeared to
be unscathed.
There was no evidence that they'd been beaten. Now Harry wished that he'd taken some pictures
of their injuries, but he'd had little opportunity to buy a camera, even if he'd thought of it. The
buses didn't run on Sunday, he'd had to go in to work on Monday, and before the week was out,
both of them had already healed.
What if Harry turned them in, and Parker didn't believe them about the beating and handed them
straight over to the ones who'd roughed them up?
Harry felt so miserable he almost got off the bus. If he got off at Tyndale Avenue he could catch
another one that would take him home.
Just in time he remembered that weasel Vic.
By casually turning his head he could see him out of the corner of his eye, still sitting in the back.
He couldn't remember if Vic had said where he was going. Harry didn't want him to wonder why
he hadn't gone to the track like he'd said.
Harry sighed. He'd better go through with his original plan, though he didn't feel much like betting
anymore.
When the bus stopped at Winchester Downs he got off quickly, and walked about half the way to
the grandstand before stealing a glance behind him. To his relief, he could still see Vic sitting in
the back as the bus pulled away. He continued on to the race track.
As he walked away, he didn't see the bus stop again at the corner and Vic step off and follow him.
----Vic sidled through the crowd at the track, being his usual invisible self. It was easy. People were
forever ignoring him or, having once seen him, did their best to forget he existed. But that was
okay, it didn't do to bring attention to yourself. He got along very well, not existing. You could
hear and see a lot that way.
Right away he could tell something was funny. Harry hadn't wanted to see him, and that was okay
too, nobody really liked seeing him, but his alarm was more than just discomfort at running into an
old pal he didn't want to talk to. He had been afraid, and he could hardly meet Vic's eyes. What
was Harry feeling so guilty about?
Now, Vic, being a practiced liar, could look any cop or his own mother straight in the eye without

flinching, but a lot of people couldn't. Harry always was pretty easy to read.
So he found a little nook out of the wind, watched the horses racing by for a couple of hours,
watched Harry, who stood at the rail. Man, he'd never seen Harry so excited before, his droopy
hound dog face lit up with intensity. Harry shouted and cheered the horses on, then he'd double
over and groan when the results showed up on the board.
Then Vic went and got a soda, went to the john, came back, had a little panic attack when he
couldn't see Harry anywhere, then caught sight of him heading for the exit, shoulders slumped. He
ambled out after him.
It was touch and go on the last bus as the crowd thinned, but Vic hid behind some guy lugging a
tuba case and successfully avoided notice.
----Ta da! Megamind sang, waving his arms at Minion with a flourish. Minion, so tall now that the
top of his containment unit almost scraped the ceiling, waved his fins and blushed. The
floorboards creaked under the weight.
Well, look at that, Harry said, forcing a smile onto his face. You got your robot suit back! He
did not wonder how they had gotten it back. He was getting really good at shutting down that part
of his mind that asked inconvenient questions.
This calls for a celebration, said Megamind. He leaped over to the wobbly kitchen table and
waved his arm at the Chinese takeout containers. Behold, a feast!
Harry's mouth watered in spite of himself. He'd smelled the delicious food out in the hallway.
Well, that's just fine, he said, grinning. Guess you boys are back in business, huh?
You could say that. And what's more, I have an announcement to make. Megamind's grin
became strained. We've found a new lair. He straightened his shoulders and crossed his arms.
It's quite close by, actually, though of course I am not at liberty to tell you where, you
understand. He cleared his throat self-consciously.
Oh.
Megamind shifted his feet. Um. Yes. Because I promised we would only stay at your place for a
little while and I think we've stretched the definition of 'a few days' to its limit.
Oh, Harry said again, feeling awkward. He had gotten used to having them around. Minion
smiled bravely but his spines drooped. Megamind crossed his arms and looked out the window.
It's a fine place, Uncle Harry...
Once we get the pigeon poop scraped out, Minion muttered.
Megamind shot him a glare. It's not that bad. He sniffed and examined his nails. And what do
you mean by 'we'?
Aw, come on, Sir, you said you'd...
Laughing, Megamind stuck his fingers in his ears. I can't hear you! Lalalalalalala!
A pounding on the floor under their feet indicated that the downstairs neighbor was banging on
the ceiling with a broom handle.

Shhhhhh! Shh! said Harry, grimacing and waving his hands. Simultaneously, they clapped their
hands over their mouths. They looked at each other for a moment, their eyes bright with glee, then
lowered their hands.
Let's eat, Megamind said. Help yourself, Uncle Harry.
Uh, listen, guys, you can still drop by anytime you want. In fact, I'd like it if you stayed. I am
not like Vic, Harry thought, his lips tightening in determination. Looking for an angle, a scheme,
an advantage. He would prove it. He would do the right thing.
Really? Do you mean it? Minion said.
Megamind brightened, but he also looked hesitant. I don't...know... he said. We may have
overstayed our welcome. Are you sure? He glanced at Minion. The old pigeon coop was quite
large and had proved adequate for planning their operation against the federal building. It was
more spacious than the shed they'd first bunked in, but he really hadn't been looking forward to
sleeping there.
Harry assured them both that he would love it if they stayed. He didn't tell them he'd run into Vic
Spinelli, since he knew they were not all that friendly with that particular uncle.
-----Night had fallen, and the shadows were deep. Vic stood in a doorway and lit a cigarette and
watched Harry go into a slipshod boarding house with crumbling steps. A minute later, a light
came on in one of the upper windows.
Hmmm. That one had shown the blue flickering light of a TV screen. Had he left the TV on all
day while he was gone?
Something to think about.
Vic would never, ever, ever go around telling stories. It pained him when people accused him of
blabbing. It was just that, sometimes in a pinch, the right words in the right ear could save him a
world of hurt, especially during those little misunderstandings when he was innocently minding
his own business and just happened to pick up a few unregarded items that no one would miss
anyway. Strange how mad people got when it was clearly their own fault if they left doors and
windows unlocked, and valuable stuff just lying around.
Vic collected little bits and pieces of intel the way some guys wandered around with metal
detectors, looking to see what they could dig up. Sometimes they dug up a real treasure.
He liked that word, intel. Sounded so military, like he could be a spy, a real espionage agent.
Or, as the blue kid might have said, es- pye-oh-nadge.
For a second he thought he saw a large shoulder outlined against a curtain and frowned. Harry
wasn't that tall, was he? But it was only for a second, then the shadow was gone as whoever it
was moved deeper into the room.
It wasn't much, really, but Vic filed away it as another thing to think about. He had another
cigarette, mulled things over for a while, then stomped out the stub and made his way home.
------

It was while he was clearing out some old files that Brad came across the recordings. For a
moment he couldn't place them, since Corbin hadn't given him any surveillance duties lately, but
then he remembered that he had never turned off the tracking system.
What with Megamind tracking them down at Agent Corbin's place he'd completely forgotten
about it.
But there it was, all this time it had been faithfully sending out its little signal, and recording
everything.
Out of curiosity he opened the program and listened to the most recent recording.
This is where we like to set up camp when spring comes, man, an eager voice whispered,
coming out of the speakers. Gets a lot of cross wind, so's we don't get the smell from the dump,
and we get a nice view, and the roof here is still pretty solid, man. When you come to Earth, I'll
show you where...
A more distant, wearier voice said, Curly?
There was a scratchy noise, as if the device had been dunked under a covering, and the first voice
said, Yeah, Reg?
Can you tell your little blue friends it's time for bed?
Uhhhhh, I don't know what you're talkin' about, man. Don't know about you, man, that's crazy
talk. The voice chuckled nervously.
Brad listened to muffled sounds of what might have been a body turning over in a pile of
newspapers. There was silence for a while, then the voice came back, Curly presumably, in an
even quieter whisper. That's all for now, blue men. And blue women, too, and your kids. Oh,
and when you come to Earth, just let me know, I'll let the ambassador know. Or I'll try to,
anyway. He is a nice kid, I got to shake his hand once, remember? But hard to get a hold of, you
know? I gotta go. Signing off from planet Earth.
A few more rustling sounds, then silence. Brad leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over
his chest, pulling on his lip thoughtfully.
Man, he ought to let Corbin know right away. It sounded like some homeless dude had pocketed
the tracking device, but he talked like he knew Megamind. Unless he was completely off his
rocker, but if Corbin somehow found out that Brad knew about this and hadn't told him, well,
Brad didn't like to think of his chances for survival.
This Curly guy would be easy to track down. Brad picked up the phone and dialed.
-----Megamind leaned back so far in the kitchen chair he was in danger of falling over. With his
fingers steepled in front of him, he kept one foot on the table and idly adjusted his position as
needed to maintain balance.
A small container of half-eaten frozen yogurt quietly melted on the table. Despite Minion's
assurances, it didn't taste all that much like real ice cream to him, and certainly not like real
chocolate.
Perhaps later he would get some Rocky Road, after the unpleasant business of the evening was
completed. Yes, that would give him a bit of incentive.

His eyes gleamed in the glow of the television, the only light in the apartment.
Little reflections showed on Minion's bowl where he stood with his back to the wall. With the
kitchen cleaned and the dishes put away, he had nothing more to do except watch TV and wait.
He felt no need to pace, and his robot body never tired so he didn't need to sit down either. Harry
snored on the mustard yellow couch, a copy of the Metro City Times sports page lying on his
chest.
Have you decided, Sir? Minion said quietly.
Megamind gave a long sigh through his nose and lowered his hands, resting one arm on the table
and letting the chair settle onto the floor.
He pressed his lips together. He was not looking forward to the next part of his plan, which would
necessitate his coming into contact with people he did not want to associate with, but if they
wanted to survive, he had no choice.
The hard part was deciding who to contact first, as both options were disagreeable. One was more
public, and therefore more exposed, more dangerous. The other somewhat safer, but less
palatable.
Walking over to the corner where his possessions lay in a loose pile, he retrieved the de-gun in its
holster and buckled it around his waist. He picked up the sonic pest dispeller from the floor to
make sure it was still working. One of these devices sat in each corner of the room. For perhaps
the first time in its existence, the apartment was pest-free. The black Inverness coat lay across the
back of a chair and he swept it on, the short cape hanging from its shoulders flaring out briefly.
Adjusting the high collar he padded over to Harry's blue denim jacket where it lay over the back
of the couch and slipped the wallet out. As expected, there were only a couple of one dollar bills
left. How in the world did Harry even make it through the day, he wondered, as he reached for his
own pocket.
Sir, Minion whispered as he pulled out a roll of cash and began counting out bills, We need
some money ourselves.
Megamind glanced at him, then stuck five hundred dollars into the almost empty wallet and tucked
it back into the jacket. He is our benefactor, Minion.
The big robot feet shuffled unhappily. I know. It's just... don't give it all away.
Megamind raised an eyebrow and held up the thick roll of cash. Don't worry. Still plenty here.
More than enough to cover street value. And I plan to bargain hard. He clapped Minion on the
arm. Let's go, my scaly friend.
Harry gave a snort and rolled over. The newspaper drifted to the floor of the empty apartment.

Best Laid Plans

Chapter Notes

"Trust me. I'm a genius." -Artemis Fowl, by Eion Colfer

The western edge of Gafford Park was by a chunk of woodland next to a stretch of abandoned
lots overgrown with weeds. During the day dog walkers and ambitious joggers sometimes used
the paths, and the grass received regular mowings by park maintenance workers, but at night it
became a hangout for a particular group of junkies.
They were just settling in under the footbridge for a good smoke when Minion appeared in their
midst.
Survival instincts came to the fore and they scattered like a flock of underfed pigeons, except for
the one who slipped on some mud and was snagged by Minion.
He wheeled the struggling man around as Megamind stepped forward. How about him, Sir?
Megamind chuckled. Yes, I suppose this one will do. He never forgot a face, and had seen this
one furtively passing packets back and forth on the streets on a few occasions.
The junkie's blood-shot eyes widened. Don't snort me! he wailed.
Calm yourself, drug dealer, Megamind said. I am here on business.
Clearly he needed to be shown the money, Megamind thought, and pulled out the wad of cash. At
the sight of the money, the man ceased his frantic struggles, looking from one alien face to the
other, and then to the money, which had captured his undivided attention.
Now if you... Megamind paused as the man's words came back to him. Did you say 'snort'?
The man's eyes darted around uncertainly. Yeah, because Timbo, you put him in a cube once,
and he saw you get these other people into cubes, and you crushed 'em, and did lines with 'em,
man, like a real nasty cocaine binge. Just like soylent green.
Frowning, Megamind looked at Minion, who shrugged and rolled his eyes.
What is soylent green? he asked, hoping that an explanation for the unfamiliar term would shed
some light on the bizarre announcement.
The man's forehead wrinkled. It's people, man.
It was no help at all. People had way too much time on their hands. Just when he thought he'd
heard them all, some new rumor would appear that made him feel as if he'd stepped off the end of
a sidewalk only to discover that the curb was twenty feet high.
He shook his head. Look, drug-addicted person, this... he drew the de-gun. The man tried to
duck under Minion's arms. ...is a dehydration gun. He decided it was best not to mention the destroy setting. I don't put people into cubes. When I fire on a person or an object within the
acceptable mass parameters, all of the moisture contained within...

His voice trailed off. The man's face showed nothing but bewilderment.
He altered course. If this Timbo person were a cube, how could he have seen me crushing other
cubes into powder and snorting them? he said, and shuddered. Besides, the cubes are practically
indestructible. He walked out from under the foot bridge and looked around. Minion came along,
pulling the man with him.
Megamind aimed at a park bench and shot it. Walking over to it he picked up the cube and,
placing it on a flat stone from the crumbling path, stomped on it with his heel a few times. He
picked it up and handed it to the man. See? he said. Not a mark on it. Even if Minion jumped
up and down on it, it wouldn't get damaged.
The man turned the cube over and over in his hands, and squeezed it with a grunt. Huh. The
corners of his mouth tilted into a grin. Good old Timbo, he chuckled. But even the wonders of
the cube paled next to the chunk of cash Megamind held, and the man kept looking at it hopefully.
So what do I call you? I can't keep calling you 'drug dealer,' he said, holstering the de-gun.
Iggy, he said, staring at the money roll.
If Minion lets go, you won't run off?
Iggy gave a quick shake of the head. At this point they would have had to drive him away with
whips.
So how much for a kilo of your finest cocaine?
That broke the spell. Iggy stopped rubbing his arms and gaped at him. He darted forward, grabbed
Megamind's elbow, and hurried him back under the bridge. Megamind was too surprised to
protest. Iggy gestured wildly for Minion to come in, though the puzzled henchfish was already
following after them. He had been half ready to crack him over the head when he grabbed Sir's
arm.
Are you crazy? I don't have that much on me, he whispered, craning his neck around as if
expecting an attack from all sides. Nobody does. Unless you're a top dog. His eyes narrowed in
suspicion. Are you settin' up? Because Bruce Otto is gonna have something to say about it if you
try to set up your own business around here.
I am not setting up anything, Megamind said. I merely wish to make a one-time purchase.
Iggy looked doubtful. Well, I still don't have that much, he said, shaking his head. I could get
it, but I need to go to Otto. And he's going to want to talk to you. He can be hard to find, though.
Like, really hard. He coughed into his fist and gave a little waggle with his other hand.
Either Iggy was showing the first signs of Parkinson's disease, or he was trolling for a tip.
Megamind flicked off a twenty-dollar bill from the wad and held it out. It disappeared with
remarkable speed into Iggy's pocket.
Megamind sighed. Where and when?
You know Lucky Jack's on 125th ? Be there in an hour.
And how do I know there wont be a squadron of cops sitting there, waiting to pounce?
Megamind asked, eyes narrowing.

Iggy flapped his hand dismissively. Are you kidding? Bruce Ottos not exactly simpatico with
the cops. Theyd haul him in. Same with me. Hey, uh... he said with a hopeful grin, holding up
the cube, Can I keep the bench?
Be my guest, Megamind said with a smirk. Just add water when you get it home.
-------I'm still not sure about this, Sir, Minion said as he eased his bulk behind the wheel of the station
wagon and shut the door. We found Corbin's computer guy. Isn't that good enough?
Megamind gave him an exasperated look. It's all part of my two-pronged attack. Operation:
Frame Agent Corbin Like We Framed Justin Henkler by Planting False Evidence. It's an ancient
and time-honored tradition, and will provide that extra pow factor! Megamind cried, smacking his
fist into his hand. We can't have a two-pronged attack with only one prong. How ridiculous is
that?
Well, it just seems like Operation: Frame Agent Corbin is a little too...
Megamind raised his index finger. That's Operation: Frame Agent Corbin Like We Framed
Justin Henkler by Planting False Evidence, Minion.
Er...Operation...Frame...er...can we shorten it, Sir?
Well, I suppose so, said Megamind. But Operation: FACLWFJHPFE doesn't exactly roll off
the tongue.
Minion huffed out a sigh. Why not just 'the Operation'?
Because that's what the last one was called! And a very disappointing name it was, too. No style
to it, Megamind said, waving his hands in the air and letting them fall to his lap again. I am in
charge of naming all operations, plans, and ee-vil schemes from now on.
-------Megamind spent a half hour casing the area around Happy Jack's before he was satisfied that there
really weren't any cops in the vicinity. It was possible that someone else inside the bar would try to
cash in on the reward being offered for him even if Bruce Otto wouldn't, so he made sure to locate
all the exits. There were two good ones, the back door and the window of the restroom, which
was big enough for Minion to get through even if they had to break it down.
He stepped over the threshold of the bar, and froze.
The warden sat at the bar, beer mug half way to his lips, staring at him.
Megamind's back bumped into Minion's torso as he backpedaled.
No, not the warden, he realized, heart thudding. The warden's son, Dan Parker. That wastrel. He
even had a mustache.
Megamind made a show of adjusting his black trench coat. He had better night vision than Earth
humans (like a damn cat, some of the prisoners said) but it had still taken a moment to adjust to the
gloom and bad lighting. Glancing at Minion, he could see that the ichthyoid was equally shocked,
as his mouth was hanging open, but then he clamped his teeth together and gave Megamind a little
nod to show that he had recovered from his surprise.

Dan was only twenty-five but his heavy abuse of drugs had aged him so he looked almost as old
as his father, and not aged well, either. His eyes were sunken and dark and his cheeks sagged,
giving him a jowly look. Greasy dark hair hung in strands over his forehead. He slowly put the
mug on the stained bar and stared at them, the skin around his eyes tightening.
Megamind sternly reminded himself that he was no longer six years old. He lifted his chin, gave
Dan a cold look, and walked into the room.
Iggy hovered by a round wooden table halfway down the room, next to a broad-shouldered man
with his head sunk into his chest as if his neck had given up. Another man the size of a small
mountain slowly pushed his chair back and stood up in size twenty Oxfords. His crew cut brushed
against the florescent lights.
It was not crowded. A few people sat on stools along the bar and a few more sat around in booths
and tables in the long room, all of them staring. The bartender put put down the glass she was
polishing and put one hand on the bar and the other on her hip, and glared at them. A baseball
game played on the television. The people at the bar didn't turn around as they passed, but their
heads swiveled to keep an eye on them.
Iggy met him halfway. There's Otto, he said, nodding back toward the sitting man. I just told
him you wanted to work for him. Hey, believe me, it's better this way, he said, as Megamind
scowled at him. Otherwise he wouldn't meet with you at all. He began to pat Megamind's
shoulder, thought better of it, and scuttled out the door.
Megamind suppressed a sigh and walked over to the table. Otto lifted his head and his eyes shifted
away from the game on the TV to glare at him.
I have a business proposition, Mister Otto, said Megamind, deciding that a little mutual respect
could be established.
I don't like freaks. Tell you that right now, Otto rumbled. The hand that rested on the table had a
tattoo of a snarling wolf's head on it, and it twitched. A liver spot gave the wolf an eyepatch. And
I got enough deadbeats on the payroll.
So much for respect. May I? Megamind gestured at one of the chairs. Otto simply continued to
glare at him. The mountainous bodyguard shifted his jaw.
Megamind pulled the chair out and sat down, leaning his elbows on the table and steepling his
fingers in front of him. Minion stood at his shoulder. I believe there has been a misunderstanding.
I don't want to work for you, I merely wish to buy some of your product. I was informed that you
arrange these bulk purchases?
Otto took a drink from a shot glass and slammed it back down on the ring-marked wood. I got
this purple bastard already hornin' in on my turf. What do you think of that? Calls himself Psycho
Delic.
Megamind wondered if Otto had even heard him. I know of this...purple man, but he is no friend
of mine, I assure you.
There was a loud cheer from the television, and Otto transferred his hostility towards the screen.
Look at that. Another run, he grumbled. Put Ogilvie on the mound, you bums! Tigers are
gonna lose. He poured another shot, downed it, then glared at Megamind again.
So you don't know him. You expect me to believe that? Otto's hackles were almost visible.
I see him sometimes at the freak convention, Megamind said.

Even in the half light of the bar he could see Otto's face darken. You think you're hot shit
because you got away from the feds? I don't buy that for a second. He sneered as he looked
Megamind up and down, or at least that part of him that was visible over the table. Scrawny runt
like you? I seen Corbin, there ain't no way a toothpick like you could beat up a guy like that. Take
a hike, narc.
Megamind burst out laughing out of pure shock. Hahahaha! A narc? Seriously? You think...
He shook his head. Yes, Mister Otto, my escape from federal custody was all an elaborate ruse to
entrap you.
Otto glowered and poured another shot. I don't like smart-asses, neither. Just get the hell out
before I have Ralph throw you out.
Mount Thug cracked his knuckles. Megamind heard several slightly louder creaks as Minion
bunched his fists. I'd like to see him try, the henchfish growled.
Easy now, Megamind said, putting his hand up to Minion's chest. A fight now would wreck
everything. Though Ralph had several inches on Minion, he had no doubt that his henchfish could
throw this bodyguard through the window, but it would put a serious cramp in the deal. Now,
about my escape. Even an experienced fighter like Corbin can be taken by surprise. I hit him with
something he didn't expect.
Otto cocked his head. Oh yeah? What?
Megamind smiled and tapped the side of his blue head. This. I'll bet you could hear the collision
all across town.
Otto's shoulders began to shake and a wheeze came out of his mouth. Megamind stiffened in
alarm, wondering if he were having an asthma attack, but no, the man was laughing, a great long
wheeze broken by little gasps. Megamind watched his face with interest. The corners of the mans
mouth didn't turn up at all. If anything, they seemed to go down even farther.
Yeah, I'll bet, Otto said, and took a drink straight from the whiskey bottle. He gave a last,
shortened wheeze. Giant noggin like that.
Megamind felt his smile become strained, but he held it in place. At least he's amused. Though I
would rather he weren't amused at my expense. Let me give you a little piece of information, for
free. I'm not working for the feds, but Psycho Delic is.
Otto looked sharply at him. He'd suspected that Psycho Delic was being handled, but he just
hadn't figured out by whom. He thought it was some other drug lord in another city attempting to
squeeze Otto out of business.
Megamind rested his elbows on the table again. In fact, if my...party goes as planned, this thorn
in your side would most likely be removed. He didn't have anything personal against Psycho
Delic, but he was fairly certain that when Corbin went down, his lackeys would be taken down
too.
Otto leaned back in his chair, straightening his arms against the table. His fingers tapped against
the edge a few times, the wolf tattoo trembling. How you gonna do that? What's my guarantee?
Nothing is for certain in this world, Megamind said, smiling. He interlocked his fingers. And
you know I can't go into details. After all, what's to stop you from running your mouth off to the
feds yourself, if you get taken in?

Otto scoffed. They don't got nothing on me. What's your little party going to do for me?
Isn't it obvious? You get a profit from this simple business transaction, and Psycho Delic goes
away. All without you having to lift a finger. The feds have been a thorn in my side as well.
Technically speaking, he didn't need Otto's product in particular. Any highly illegal substance
would do, but he was growing impatient to put his plan into action and didn't want to go through
all the bother of tracking down yet another 'top dog' who would probably be equally unpleasant.
He didn't know any drug dealers personally, because his uncles had steered him clear of them.
Otto nodded. Okay, frea...kid. We can deal.
------As Psycho Delic strolled down the sidewalk he tugged the black ascot up a little higher to make
sure the glowing lights on the inhibitor collar were hidden.
A fine mist drizzled out of the sky, making everything damp. There wasn't a breeze, so every
overflowing garbage can and gutter perfumed the night. But he wasn't due at his cell until eleven
o'clock and he was damned if he was going back early.
Besides, he'd found one of his regular girls, and the scotch, oxycontin, and sheep wormer were
hitting his system just right, so for a short while all was right with the world.
Crystal or Jasmine or whatever her name was kept up a stream of chatter that he normally would
have busted her for, but he was feeling unexpectedly mellow at the moment, almost cheerful. He
might even pay her afterwards.
He rubbed his forehead. Maybe a little less scotch next time.
...never really came back after that last album, and she's like, what, eighty years old or something,
I bet she's got one of them rejuvenation chambers, said Crystal or possibly Jasmine, high heels
clicking rapidly by his side as she hurried to keep up with his long stride. I don't know why she
bothers, it's not like she's had any hits since the seventies, just 'cause she got cancer or something,
I'll bet people feel sorry for her...
He'd lost track of which has-been celebrity she was talking about. At least he didn't need to hold
up his end of the conversation. Crystal and/or Jasmine talked enough for three. As they turned the
corner and he saw the row of bars, he looked down at her, mellow mood evaporating. I thought
your place was just around the corner.
I had to move, weren't you listening? Just down the street, she said with an anxious smile.
Almost there.
Still frowning he walked a little faster.
A group of damp punks crowded together under an awning, passing a bottle back and forth.
Hey, Crystal! one of them bawled after them. You gonna do me next?
They howled with laughter. Crystal threw them a dirty look over her shoulder and jabbed her
middle finger at them, but she maintained her death grip on Psycho Delic's elbow. No way would
she risk losing him to some other girl.
None of the men were high enough or stupid enough to heckle Psycho Delic.
Crystal grumbled under her breath, then resumed her chatter about other celebrity has-beens.

Madonna is soooo much better...We can take this way, she said brightly, pointing a red-painted
fingernail at an alley. He shrugged and let her tug him along.
Iggy loomed out of the shadows so quick that Psycho Delic almost pasted him. Iggy yelped,
throwing his arms up in front of his face and backing away from the smoke that boiled off Psycho
Delic's fingers.
What do you want? Psycho Delic snapped, lowering his hand.
Where you been, man? I left like twenty messages! he cried. I found 'em.
I'm busy, Psycho Delic said and started walking again.
Iggy flapped his arms in exasperation. The blue geek and the robot! They're in Lucky Jack's
bar!
Psycho Delic stopped short and looked back at him in surprise. He walked back to the end of the
alley, Crystal glued to his elbow. Stepping into the mouth of the alley he looked at the yellow and
green neon sign of the four leaf clover hanging over the bar.
You sure? he said, squinting. The windows were small and tinted, and it was impossible to see
inside. He let the red light grow in his eyes as he looked at Iggy. There's a penalty if you're
wasting my time.
Not like I could get 'em mixed up with anyone else. I'm telling you, it's them. And I'm the one
who got them to go there, he added, hoping that all his hard work would pay off with an
additional reward.
Well, I'll be damned, Psycho Delic muttered, heart racing with anticipation, and began to dig in
his pocket for the comm, but then he hesitated and a smile twisted his lips into a grin. He had a
better plan.
He held Crystal's chin in his hand and tilted her head up. Change of plan, sweetheart, he said.
Maybe another time.
What? You're leaving? she cried, but he pulled his arm out of her grip and walked toward Iggy,
who looked at him with dog-like anticipation.
Nice job, Iggy, he said, and sent a streamer of smoke into his mouth. Iggy closed his eyes and
inhaled.
Crystal grabbed the sleeve of his coat. But what about me? You can't... She swallowed
nervously at the scowl on Pyscho Delic's face but so great was her need that she didn't let go.
I said another time, he said coldly. Behind him, Iggy's eyes were glazing over. You ever want
me to come back, you quit bugging me. Crystal forced her fingers to open and release the purple
sleeve.
Psycho Delic smiled. Good girl.
Iggy took three steps to the right. His shoulder bumped against the brick wall of the alley and
slowly he slid down to settle in a heap on the cement, an idiotic grin on his face, well on his way
to Happyland.
Psycho Delic left the alley and strode back down the street to the gang of damp hoodlums.

Hey, any of you assholes want to make a quick fifty bucks? he said, grinning. That got their
attention, but when he told them what he wanted, they became less than enthusiastic.
You mean the robot? I dunno, man, how do you beat up a robot?
Why don't you just shoot them? another guy muttered.
Psycho Delic smiled and his eyes glowed redder. Nah, they have to be taken alive. And you'll
have this. He pulled out the government-issue taser. Corbin had every one of his agents supplied
with the devices, with orders to carry them at all times.
Psycho Delic waited while they glanced at each other. Come on, guys, an easy fifty, for each of
you. Plus, he added, as they muttered and shook their heads, Let me give you a little courage.
Make you feel real good, too.
They all stared at his uplifted hand. Purple smoke rose from it as if from an invisible fire. One of
them had gotten a taste of his smoke before, Joe he thought his name was, and the guy watched
the smoke hungrily. He could feel them wavering. They were young, bored, and foolish enough
to throw themselves into just about any fight, for less cause. Plus he could see that the bottle they
were passing around was almost empty.
They glanced at each other again. Joe's bright-eyed face was impossible to miss. Joey goes first,
one of them said with a smirk, shoving him forward.
Hey! Joey cried, but he quickly righted himself and shuffled toward him, embarrassed and
nervous at having been picked out, but unable to resist the call. There was some good-natured
shoving as the others began daring each other to go for it.
A low chuckle started deep in Psycho Delic's chest. Joey was addicted to him, and soon most of
his buddies would be, too. With his powers dampened he could only dose one at a time, but it
would do. He'd get back into Corbin's good graces with this arrest, and then he'd get his apartment
back for sure.
-------Enough with the statistics already, Otto groaned, holding his head. Megamind had been wearing
him down for several minutes with his cost analysis of transportation, production, and availability
of the substance in question. No more, he said, waving a hand. Okay. I'll make it thirty
thousand. But no less.
Megamind smiled. Very well. Now for the matter of delivery. I suggest...
Shut up, Otto snapped. He dug a notebook out of his dusty pocket and snapped his fingers
impatiently. His henchman gave him a pen. Come to this address, tomorrow. He began to slide
the paper over the table. Megamind could just make out the jumbled scrawl of the man's atrocious
handwriting. Better not be before noon. I figure...
Dan Parker lurched into the table, knocking over the bottle. Hey, maybe you don't remember me.
You remember me, Blue? he said, swaying. How come you didn't say hi?
Ralph grunted in surprise and grabbed Dan by the shirt. Dan struggled in his grip. Why didn't
you come see me? I could have gotten you the right stuff. His voice had become a whine and he
seemed oblivious of the bodyguard twisting his clothing out of shape. When Megamind entered
the bar he'd been relieved, at first, that he'd walked right on by, but now Dan was sozzled enough
to decide that he was insulted at being ignored.

Otto crumpled the paper in his fist. Who's this loser! He turned his beady eyes on Megamind.
You gonna tell me you don't know him, either?
Megamind grimaced. Just somebody I used to know. He's not important.
How do you like that? Dan cried. My parents take him in, and now he's too good to even talk
to his brother.
Otto looked at him, eyes narrowing. Megamind huffed out a breath. He's not my brother. He's a
waste of space, he said. Otto stared at him impassively. Well, foster brother, at most,
Megamind added, hating to admit it.
Otto sat back, making the chair creak and giving Megamind a long, slow look. Family's family,
kid. Even if it was a foster home, he said with a frown. You gotta stick by your family.
Yeah, that's what I say, Dan said.
Megamind struggled to keep from rolling his eyes. Can we please stick to the matter at hand? he
snapped. And they did not take me in, I was never in any kind of home, he said with a glare at
Dan. If the warden really cared, he...
Warden, Otto said, lip curling in puzzlement.
Megamind clamped his lips shut. Crap. One slip of the tongue, and this Neanderthal thinks it's
some sort of entrapment conspiracy again. He could see the wheels of suspicion once again
cranking into high gear behind in Otto's eyes.
I've been in prison my whole life, but I don't have anything to do with the warden, even if he is
my supposed father. His protests did not have the desired effect. If anything, Otto's face wrinkled
even more.
So maybe he let you out, to stretch your legs? Otto said coldly. And maybe you pay him back
by passing along a little info once in a while? He stood up with a scrape of the chair, shoving the
address into his pocket and rising ponderously to his feet. Deal's off. He waggled his finger at
Megamind's astonished face. You set things right with your family. I had a foster mom once.
That woman was a saint. He pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose.
I'm not a narc, you brainless dolt! Megamind cried, leaping to his feet. Otto tromped past him
and headed for the door. Ralph let go of Dan and followed after him.
Oh, come on! Let's talk about this! he called at Otto's back. You can't honestly think I'm some
kind of spy. Nobody let me out, I got myself out! Why don't you...
Otto walked out the door.
...fall under a bus, you paranoid twit, Megamind muttered, and let his hands fall to his sides.
Dan slumped against the bar. Wow, he muttered. What's his problem?
Teeth drawn back in a snarl, Megamind jabbed a finger at him. If you have two brain cells to rub
together you will crawl back into that bottle and never come near me again.
Dan's face tightened with anger. You think you're better than me, you little creep?
I know I'm better than you, Danny Boy, Megamind said with a sneer, and walked away.

Dan fell on his shoulders and wrapped an arm around his neck in a choke hold, bathing him in the
odors of sweat and booze. Minion shouted and lunged, but Megamind had already thrown an
elbow into his gut. The arm fell away and Dan crumpled to the floor, retching.
Hey, take it outside! the bartender shouted.
Megamind glanced at her. I was just leaving. He looked at Dan, curled up on the floor. You
might want to rent a rug shampooer, though, ma'am, he said.
Who you callin' ma'am? she snapped.
There is just no pleasing people. He took a deep breath and fixed his coat collar. Let's go, he
said, and turned on his heel. Hitting Dan didn't feel nearly as good as he'd thought it would. Guilt
and self-righteousness mingled uneasily in his stomach. Minion would have done far greater
damage. Dan got off easy, really. Megamind held on to that thought.
The bartender glared at them as she stowed some of the dustier bottles under the bar, as if she
didn't believe they were going to leave without trashing the place.
Megamind strode toward the door, wondering if he could still catch up with Otto, or whether he
had already gone, or whether it would even be worthwhile trying to convince him that he wasn't a
spy.
He shook his head. A narc! Because I just blend in everywhere, he thought disgustedly.
Then he caught sight of waving arms and the tops of people's heads through the bar's high tinted
windows and he stopped. There was also a roar, as if a horde of crazed football fans were coming
in, which was odd. In his experience they tended to flock together in the fall, and here it was
almost May. Had there been an unfortunate trading fiasco amongst the teams? Or maybe some
baseball fans had finally snapped, just to break up the monotony.
Maybe we should go out the back, he said.
The door crashed back against the wall as the mob piled in. They paused for a moment.
Megamind looked into their crazed eyes, and then they tackled Minion.

Another Glorious Rivalry is Born

Chapter Notes

I must thank two Megamind fans, studymaniac and dead-eyedplasticdesktoy of

Tumblr for their ideas about how to correct a certain weakness in Minion's robot suit.
This chapter wouldn't have been the same without them! And now for today's
quote...
"'Tell me, tutor,' I said. 'Is revenge a science or an art?'" -Mark Lawrence, Prince of
Thorns

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Minion had been in lots of fights, but usually people tried to get away from his pounding metal
fists, not hurl themselves at him en masse, howling like deranged gibbons.
Megamind got knocked head over heels by the charge. After falling over a table he rolled to his
feet and drew the de-gun.
What the hell is going on? Megamind thought as he dehydrated first a chair and then the man who
had been swinging it at Minion's dome.
Minion staggered under the weight of the bodies. He raised one arm, a frenzied attacker still
clinging to it. He swung the guy up and over and sent him into the wall. Incredibly, the man got
up again and leaped back into the fray.
The remaining bar patrons fled along with the bartender. A panicked customer crashed into
Megamind and he slammed into the bar. Side aching, he gritted his teeth and got to his feet, then
he ducked as one of Minion's attackers came flying toward him. The man skidded over the bar
and fell behind it, breaking liquor bottles along the way. That guy also got up and began climbing
back over the bar. Megamind dehydrated him.
Holding the de-gun in a two-handed grip, Megamind moved quickly around the brawl, trying to
get a clear shot. He didn't want to accidentally dehydrate Minion, especially since he didn't want
to end up facing that mob alone. They showed no fear of him or Minion. If Minion were no longer
available for this insane attack, he'd be next, and odds were good they'd overwhelm him before he
could shoot them all.
He walked through a cloud of smoke. Startled, he flinched and shook his head. Waving his hand
to clear the air, he shot two more men, and a third that charged him.
He rubbed his nose irritably. It was weird, it didn't smell like tobacco smoke at all, and left a sickly
sweet taste in the back of his throat.
The room spun and the floor tilted. He grabbed the side of his head with one hand.
Then the numbness hit. He dropped the de-gun as his legs began to fold. He staggered sideways,
and caught the edge of a table to keep from falling.
What was happening? What...

Panting, he looked around, and he saw a silent figure standing back by the restrooms.
Red eyes gleamed from under the brim of a purple fedora and a skeletal grin stood out from a face
that not even a mother could love.
Trouble, I am in trouble. The de-gun lay on the brown-checked carpet, but it looked very far
away. The walls and ceiling bowed inward and terror clutched at his chest. The building was
caving in!
No, that was not right, that was not logical, it was the effect of the drug-laden cloud he'd just
walked through. There was no sound of wood creaking or foundations groaning, it was all in his
head.
This knowledge did not make him feel any better. He eyed the bulging ceiling with alarm. There
could be anything up there, and soon whatever it was would break through.
No! he whispered, shaking his head, trying to clear it. Minion. Help.
His jaw went numb. A pink fog rolled through his brain as the numb feeling ran through his arms
and shoulders and torso and...
He fell on his knees, and then his hands, and that brown-checked carpet looked like just the right
place for a little rest.
With tremendous effort he braced his arms and kept his head off the floor. He could see every
thread of the carpet, and a little pile of pretzel crumbs, just beyond the end of his nose.
The pink fog put anchors on his eyelids. If he lay down he had a very bad feeling he would not
get up again. He breathed in and out, and watched his breath stir the crumbs and carpet fibers.
He knew he had to get up but it was taking all of his will power just to keep his eyes open.
A scuffed leather shoe came near and then a purple hand reached down and picked up the de-gun
by the barrel. Psycho Delic held it gingerly between two fingers, as if he were afraid it would
spontaneously combust.
Clearly an amateur with guns, Megamind thought, though he probably doesn't need one. Psycho
Delic got it turned the right way around and stuck it in the pocket of his tan trench coat.
A little ways beyond Psycho Delic, Megamind saw that his erstwhile foster brother Dan Parker
was still lying on the floor next to the puddle of sickness, gaping at the scene. When he realized
Megamind was looking at him, his lip curled, he muttered Screw this, and lurched to his feet,
and ran toward the back door.
Well, his hopes hadn't been high that Dan would bother to do anything for him, especially not
after Megamind clobbered him.
Megamind managed to turn his face towards the blurry struggle taking place on the other end of
the bar room.
Minion, he mumbled.
Minion was dragging a man off his back with one arm and trying to shake off two others who
were weighing down his other arm.
Perhaps later, when Minion isn't so busy.

Psycho Delic grinned. His remaining strands of hair floated around his head like wisps of smoke.
You better take a little nap, blue boy, he said, and pushed Megamind over with his foot.
Hey, Megamind thought as he rolled over onto his back. But even his indignation was feeble,
barely a spark, and drowning in pink fog.
Psycho Delic prodded him in the head with his toe. Corbin's thinking about lettin' you and me
have some quality time, he said, leering. What do you think of that? Sound like fun? There's
gonna be a fish fry, too. Chuckling, he moved away to watch the struggle across the room.
That sounded like all kinds of wrong. He would have been sickened if he could have found the
energy. The fish fry comment did not bode well for Minion's future, either.
Moving his heavy head, he watched Psycho Delic's feet walk back and forth.
The taser, you dickheads! Psycho Delic shouted. Use the taser! Who's got it? He readjusted
his ascot over the collar.
A collar.
A man flew screaming through the air and crashed into a dart board. Darts scattered across the
floor, one of them rolling under a nearby chair.
None of this was right, Megamind thought. He had to do something. But none of it seemed
important anymore, his freedom, his glorious plans, his survival.
But he was so tired. Maybe everything would work out all right somehow if he would just stop
struggling and go to sleep. That seemed like a good idea.
He knew, logically, that it was a very bad idea, and if he closed his eyes he would be worse than
dead, but somehow he did not care.
He stared at the bulging ceiling, which had begun to writhe like a nest of worms. Oddly, the fear
of it had grown numb as well, but there was an energy there and he clung to it.
This is not right, he told himself, managing to dredge up an iota of anger.
It didn't even matter what he felt! He must act! A hazy plan stumbled through the fog and he
grabbed at it.
By sheer stubbornness he forced his numb legs to push himself closer to the nearest fallen dart and
rolled onto his side. His hand was numb, but by watching it closely he could still move it. He
closed his fingers around the dart, pulling it close and hiding it under his side.
But he had no more strength left. The effort of seizing the dart left him winded and dizzy. I don't
have any strength. I can't do it.
He needed to get Psycho Delic to reverse the effects of whatever the drug cloud had done.
Nice collar, he mumbled. Damn it, his tongue felt thick as a plank and Psycho Delic couldn't
hear him over the crashes and the sounds of breaking glass. The combatants had gone out the door
and into the street.
Nice collar, he wheezed.
Psycho Delic glanced his way and tromped over.

You like it? he said, grinning. He pulled back the ascot to give him a full view of the plasticine
and metal contraption with its row of lights. Pretty, ain't it? I'll bet you get one too, geek.
Not f' long, Megamind said. I'd get out of it.
Psycho Delic's face twisted, his paper-thin skin wrinkling. Nobody gets out of it, he said
bitterly. Can't cut it off, it shocks you right away if you try. Can't short circuit it. I went to these
guys I know, techies and computer geeks, they all just shake their heads.
Megamind managed a dry chuckle. Had one in prison. Disabled it. Like that. He tried to snap
his fingers but missed.
Psycho Delic's eyes widened and the sneer faded. You had one just like this? And you escaped?
Easy, Megamind mumbled. Jus' need. Right tools.
Psycho Delic lifted a hand to the hated collar. The thing had been on him for five years now, only
removed for maintenance and refitting, and only after he'd been rendered unconscious. Since he
could not reliably be knocked out by most drugs, that meant regular electrocution, every six
months whether he behaved or not.
The feds looked the other way from his drug deals and his womanizing, and sometimes even gave
him other supers to play with, since he had a knack for torture, but he despised being at their beck
and call.
A bright flash of light from outside was followed by the sound of a heavy body hitting the ground.
It sounded like the fight was over. The taser had done its job. His mob of druggies were scattered
all around the bar room, a few of them whimpering.
Psycho Delic looked back and forth between the shattered door and Megamind. He took off his
hat and slapped it against his leg while he paced. The cops would probably be here soon, the little
blue geek and his fish would be turned over to Corbin, and Psycho Delic's chance at freedom
would be gone.
If they really did lock Psycho Delic alone in a room with Megamind, he might get a chance to
force the little geek to get the collar off, but that was a big risk. He said he needed tools. And the
feds would be watching through the mirror, and listening, too. But maybe after Corbin's thirst for
revenge had been satisfied, Psycho Delic could pay Megamind a visit then. But what if Corbin
killed him? That guy had a bad anger management problem. Or messed Megamind up so bad that
he wasn't in any shape to get the collar off?
Lemme go. I'll help you, Megamind mumbled.
It could be a trick, Psycho Delic thought, glaring at him. Little bastard could be lying.
He tugged at the collar, out of habit more than out of any real hope that it would suddenly pop off,
and he made his decision.
If you're lying, I will screw your mind up, boy, he said, tossing the hat on a table. Send you on
a trip so bad you will never get back. He crouched down, smoke swirling around his fingers.
This is a little booster, all right?
Megamind adjusted his grip on the dart. He realized he was actually going to have to use the
terrible little weapon. Despite his determination, his stomach turned over. Once my head clears,
I'll have to strike hard. But...a nonlethal area. Just to surprise him and throw him off balance.

Then I'll deck him with a chair or something.

Psycho Delic sent a stream of smoke down to Megamind's mouth. You better get to work right
away, or I'll...
Minion's hand landed on Psycho Delic's head and jerked him upright.
Aaah! Psycho Delic yelled, red eyes wide with shock, limbs flailing. Instinctively he struck out,
lashing a wave of smoke at Minion, but the purple haze wafted harmlessly over the containment
unit. No! The taser! he gasped. You were down!
I've got one word for you, Minion snarled, giving him a hard shake. Insulation. A thin stream
of smoke came out of his right shoulder joint and there was a brief sizzling noise. Sir, I think a
couple of circuits got fried. But the arm still works. Works good, doesn't it? he said viciously,
giving Psycho Delic another shake.
Urhlglh, Psycho Delic gurgled.
Megamind could feel the fog lifting and he sat up, still holding the dart. Aw, Minion, you ruined
my plan! he cried, relief flooding through him because now he didn't have to stab another living
being. See? he said, holding out the dart. I had everything under control. He tossed it away
and climbed to his feet.
Minion spread his fins in surprise. Er...sorry. I think, he said, frowning. It wasn't quite the
response he was expecting.
Psycho Delic belatedly groped for the de-gun.
Watch it! Megamind snapped, and Minion grabbed the purple wrist and squeezed. Psycho Delic
made a keening sound and dropped the de-gun.
Megamind caught it in mid-air and holstered it. There was a lingering odor of burnt rubber from
the insulation he'd added to the most vital areas of Minion's robot suit. With a smug smile he
addressed the captive. Minion's susceptibility to tasers has been fixed, as you can see.
Squaring his shoulders he walked back and forth, swung his arms out and brought them together
again, clapping his hands together at the end of each swing. He really was feeling very good.
Amazingly good. Especially now that the walls and ceiling had gone back to their proper places.
Whatever ghastly nightmare had been about to burst out of his subconscious could damn well stay
there!
All a matter of redirection and insulation. Teflon, rubber, and surface acoustic wave filters to
protect sensitive areas, particularly the command centers and Minion's containment unit, he said,
voice rising. Pure genius! My God, it's good to be alive!
Minion looked at him with concern. Are you all right, Sir?
Never better Minion! he shouted as his pacing quickened. Laughing, he turned to Psycho Delic.
And I never had one of those power-inhibiting collars! I don't even have any super powers, you
fool! Unless they found a way to repress my magnificent brain waves! Let's see them try to disrupt
my synapses! Ha! I fooled you! You foolish...fool!
He clapped both hands to his head as the surge of euphoria swept through him, almost painful in
its intensity. Panting, he strode back over to the villain dangling from Minion's fist. What did you
do to me! he shouted. He fought down a hysterical laugh.

It's his fault! Psycho Delic spat, his eyes darting at Minion.
What? Minion said. How could it be my fault?
It was supposed to be a little pick-me-up to clear the cobwebs, 'til his big fat gorilla paw landed
on my head, Psycho Delic said with a sneer. You got a full dose.
Megamind's heart felt like it was trying to hammer its way out. He paced back and forth, hitting
his fists against his head. A full dose of what? he groaned. How long?
A wicked smile twisted Psycho Delic's thin lips. We'll have to see.
Without warning Megamind grabbed Psycho Delic by the shirt and shook him. Since the man's
head was still immobilized in Minion's grip this caused a great deal of pain, as his head and neck
were suddenly at cross purposes. What did you do!? Megamind shouted.
Hey! Sir! Stop! Minion cried, trying to pull him away.
Ow! Get off me you little fuck! Psycho Delic screamed, and planted both smoking hands on
Megamind's face.
Minion extended the arm holding Psycho Delic and pinned him against the closest wall.
Megamind staggered and Minion stuck his arm around his back, holding him up under the arms.
Sir! Talk to me. Are you all right?
Megamind slowly looked up. Minion gaped as Megamind's eyes began to rotate in opposite
directions.
Sir, say something! Please! he begged.
Dios mio, Megamind whispered. Hay una hacha en mi cabeza. Pulling away, he seized a
chair in both hands and flung it with all his might at the untouched mirror hanging on the wall
behind the bar and shattered it.
Minion held up an arm against the flying glass. 'My God. There's an axe in my head.' he translated
silently. Why is he talking in Spanish?
Before the shards of the broken mirror finished falling, Megamind leaped at a dart board and
wrenched it off the wall and used another chair to clear a set of glasses and bottles off a table.
One of Minion's attackers regained consciousness and pushed himself to his hands and knees with
a groan. Megamind strode over to him, muttering in Spanish, and kicked him in the chest. The
man went sprawling back to the floor. Megamind kicked him again. No se saldran con la suya!
he shouted.
'You won't get away with this'? But the fight's over! Everybody else is unconscious, Minion
thought. He extended his free arm and pulled Megamind away from the helpless man. They'd
gotten this far without murder and he wanted to see that last.
Megamind tore free of his grip, ran a full lap around the room, leaped over the bar, and began
clearing all the bottles off the shelves.
Minion reeled Psycho Delic close. What did you dope him with? Tell me or I'll squeeze. He
tightened his grip.

Psycho Delic clutched at the crushing fingers on his skull. Don't squeeze, don't squeeze, he
gasped. Endorphins. Adrenalin. Lots of stuff. I like to mix it up.
Megamind leaped onto the bar again and began methodically flinging bottles one by one against
the far wall, his face bearing a look of mad concentration. Uno! Dos! Tres! he shouted, counting
each bottle as it smashed.
That sounds like the 'pick-me-up' you were talking about, Minion said. What about the second
dose?
Psycho Delic grimaced. A hormonal cascade. Catecholamines.
Minion was surprised that a guy who looked like a century old meth addict could use those big
words, but Psycho Delic had been a chemist before he turned into a sadistic nutjob. Minion bared
his teeth, and tightened his grip a little more. And that means...?
Aah! Fight or flight response! Psycho Delic gasped, clutching at the metal fingers. To make
him panic. I had to get him off me, you prick!
Great, Minion growled. The sounds of breaking glass ceased as Megamind ran out of
ammunition. Feverishly, Megamind rooted around for more unbroken bottles. Minion stared at
him, looking at his wide-rimmed eyes and the sheen of sweat on his blue head. He didnt look like
he was panicking. There must have been other nasty things in that last does, or else he was having
some kind of weird reaction. How long's it gonna last?
I don't know. Fuck you. Psycho Delic was through talking.
Minion clenched his teeth. He took hold of the purple man's arm with his free hand, let go of his
head, then clobbered him with a chair. Psycho Delic collapsed.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Sir, time to go! Minion shouted. But Megamind didn't seem to hear, and kept flinging bottles at
the wall.
Minion wrung his hands. Senor! Tiempo para ir! Por favor!
But his plea fell on deaf ears. Megamind paced back and forth along the bar, muttering. Como
estas? Soy loco. Y tu?"
Gritting his teeth, he strode over to Megamind, grabbed him around the waist, and lifted him off
the bar.
Doorak! Megamind roared. Vidpusty! Uhodi ot menya!
Rats, that sounds like Russian. Minion's Russian wasn't too good, though he thought he
recognized the word for 'idiot.' Yes, Sir, I'm sure I am, Minion said. Wrapping him in a bear hug
he carried Megamind out the back door just as a police car pulled to a stop outside the ruined front
of the bar.
--------Minion jogged through the back streets, listening to the sirens. He tried circling around to where
they'd left the van but the cops were all over the place, and he was forced to take a detour, getting
ever further away.

Carrying his enraged master bodily along was not helping matters, either. Once he attempted to let
him go, and Megamind immediately climbed halfway up a telephone pole and began shooting at a
row of windows, reducing them to cubes and leaving gaps in the side of the building. Minion had
to pull him down and confiscate the de-gun.
Megamind never ceased to shout, and kept switching between languages. It wasn't so bad when
he locked onto French or Spanish, but Minion couldn't keep up with the others.
When his voice began echoing through the streets, Minion was forced to clamp a hand over his
mouth, which only increased his outrage.
He jogged past a group of people who got off the sidewalk to get out of his way. One guy who
was talking on a cell phone stared after them, giving a play-by- play as Minion hurried by. Holy
crap, you're not gonna believe this, man, that robot fish just went by! Megamind's having a fit! I
dunno, man, maybe it went haywire.
It? Who's the 'it'? As if I didn't know. Minion was sorely tempted to go back and smash the phone.
But his hands were full of furious teenage alien genius, so he just hurried on his way.
Lights flashed against the brick wall. Minion ducked into the alley and crouched behind a
dumpster until the squad car roared past.
He hurried down the alley, hoping those pedestrians didn't flag the police car.
After a few more blocks he jogged into an area of even shabbier stores and vacant lots covered
with weeds, and he stopped in the shadow of a tattoo parlor to get his bearings. The sirens didn't
seem to be coming any closer, but he wondered how far he'd have to go to get to back to the van.
Sir, please be quiet, he begged for the umpteenth time. Even muffled, Megamind did not cease
shouting and it sounded to Minion like his throat was getting sore.
Cautiously he lifted his hand away from Megamind's mouth.
Mutinerie! Tout se paye! he shouted.
Oh good, he's gone back to French again. Let's see. 'Mutiny'...'you will pay for this'... Yikes, he's
pretty mad. Um, Monsieur, taisez-vous. S'il vous plait?
Megamind's eyes went wide with fury and he took a deep breath. Minion clamped his hand over
his mouth again just in time. Uh oh. Wasn't that the right phrase? Rattled, Minion tried to
remember the polite way to say 'please shut up.'
Hey, Code Blue!
Startled, Minion swung around to see Curly and Reg, the homeless men they'd talked with when
Megamind was searching for the tracking device that Agent Corbin, disguised as the criminal
Shadow, had planted on him.
At the sight of the struggling Megamind in the ichthyoid's robot arms, Curly's cheerful face
crumbled into dismay.
What happened, man? Why you got him all tied up?
He's not tied up! Minion cried. He's just...he's...going through ... something.

Curly nodded in understanding. Ohhhh, he breathed. Bad acid, huh?

No! Minion said indignantly. This bad guy doped him, and now he's out of his mind. Sir, stop
that, you'll break your teeth! Megamind was attempting to gnaw his way to freedom.
Minion walked on. To his annoyance, Curly tagged along, Reg padding along behind, casting
wary looks around him.
Bad news, man, some loser spiking your drink, Curly said conversationally, nodding. His head
glittered. Minion did a double take. A tin foil hat sat atop Curly's head. It was in the shape of a
pyramid and was tied under his chin with a length of twine. As the wind shifted, Minion noticed
that Curly was still avoiding any contact with soap.
Minion ducked down another alley.
Can't he walk?
I can't let him go. Whenever I set him down he turns into a maniac.
Minion paused in the entryway of a deli. He could try stealing a different car, but that would be
tough with Megamind all crazy. He didn't think he could do it one-handed. Megamind nearly
slipped out of his arms again and he adjusted his grip, almost dropping the de-gun in the process.
Sir would be pretty upset if Minion broke it.
The two men glanced at each other. Curly cleared his throat. Well, you got the cube gun thingy,
he said. Or it maybe ran out of batteries or something? He scratched the back of his head,
worried about offending Minion with a stupid question.
Minion closed his eyes and bumped his head against his dome. I am such an idiot, he muttered.
Thanks, Curly. I should have thought of that before.
Looking around, Minion saw an awning over a quick loan bank. The sidewalk underneath looked
reasonably dry.
He hurried over to it and braced himself, triple-checking the de-gun to make sure it was on dehydrate. I'm really sorry about this, Sir, but you're not in your right mind. Taking a huge gulp of
water he shoved Megamind into the doorway.
Megamind's face contorted with fury and he hurled abuse at Minion in Japanese.
Minion winced and pulled the trigger.
There was silence. Sadly, Minion picked up the cube and cradled it in his hand. He'll never
forgive me.
Curly patted him on the arm. Aw, he'll understand, man. You didn't have any choice. He was
buggin', man.
Yeah, you guys don't want the fuzz comin' along, said Reg, looking up and down the street. He
shuffled away a few steps, hoping Curly would take the hint and come along. He hadn't survived
all these years on the streets of Metro City by getting involved. A guy could get into big trouble,
getting involved. They'd already hung out with the alien guys way more than he thought was
wise.
Thanks, guys, Minion said. Curly, Reg, I wasn't very polite the last time we saw you. We had

a bad run-in with somebody, and I didn't feel like I was tough enough. I was just...
Curly lightly bumped him with his fist, face glowing with cheer and understanding. No prob,
Bob! Had a bad day, you were all bummed out, couple of raggedy dudes are all up in your face.
You're like the best bodyguard, dude. You're a good friend. Ain't that right, Reg?
Reg eyed Minion and nodded cautiously. He'd rather have a six-hundred pound robot fish be his
friend rather than his enemy.
Minion gave them a grateful smile. But the smile faded as he looked at the cube. What am I
supposed to do now? I can't take him back to Uncle Harry's like this. He'll still be all crazy once
he's re-hydrated.
You can come with us, said Curly. We got a place, it's quiet and, like, out of the way. He can,
you know, dry out there.
Reg looked sharply at him. Is he still gonna be shouting like that? I dont know, Curly, it might
bug the neighbors. He gave Minion a worried frown. Im sorry, man, but theres others like us.
Kids, families.
Minions fins drooped.Oh.
It wont be so bad, Curly protested. Cant be any worse than when Tracy got the DTs. Were
the only ones on that side of the building. Minion will hold him down, right? He smiled wide and
patted Minions big arm.
Yeah, of course, but we dont want to be a bother, Minion said, looking away.
Come on, Reg, there wont be any trouble.
Reg wavered. Minion wasnt trying to bully them into anything like hed feared. The henchfish
looked so lost he didnt have the heart to refuse any longer.
Well, okay. But just for tonight. And you have to hang on to him, man.
Minion accepted the invitation with gratitude. As they began to walk, Curly said, Uh, just keep
going, Reg, I'll catch up with you.
Ducking into an alley he pulled out the wadded up handkerchief that held his most precious
possession. Carefully he unfolded the tracking device.
Curly brought it to his mouth. Hey, blue guys, he whispered. Guess who's comin' to stay with
me tonight! Yeah. Code Blue, your amigo ambassador. I'll keep you updated. Curly out.
He bit his lip, feeling guilty about hiding it again, but Minion might get mad if he knew that Curly
had it this whole time. Wrapping it up, he slipped it back in his pocket and hurried after them.

Chapter End Notes

Over time I've become more and more interested in the characters that didn't make it
into the film, such as Psycho Delic. In my own little headcanon, I see Psycho Delic as
another hated rival of Megamind, second only to Metro Man, with whom he ends up
locking horns, repeatedly, on his rise to the top as Metro City's top super-villain.
Translation of Megamind's Russian phrases: "Idiot! Let me go! Go away!"

Breaking Points
Chapter Notes

The words mama and papa are remarkabley consistent across different languages.
(Theyre not universal, as there are always exceptions, but they are very common.)
This is probably because the sounds made by human lips, m, p, and b, are the
easiest for babies to produce when they are learning language. Since Megamind
comes from a humanoid species with the same mouth structure, I made mama and
papa part of his native tongue. (Pun intended.)
A foot on the neck is nine points of the law. -Terry Pratchett, Interesting Times

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Agent Finney came in promptly at eight o'clock, like he did every morning, and found the new
folder lying on his desk. Sipping his coffee, he read his assignment: to examine all the audio
recordings from a tracking device starting from... way back in February? Specifically to identify
the voices of the alien fugitives, provide a complete transcript of any and all conversations
including those voices, and map all movements of the tracker. Highest priority.
He frowned as he examined the dates. Why hadn't this come in sooner? It was almost May, for
crying out loud.
Did they even bother to give samples of the voices we're looking for? he snapped at his
assistant. This is months' worth of data.
Yeah, got the signatures right here. The assistant tapped the monitor.
Finney settled back. Well, that's something, anyway. So it wasnt quite as bad as hed thought.
The field agents tended to throw a mess at the techs and expect them to wave a magic wand and
make it all better. Just because they werent out chasing suspects and slapping collars on them,
there was an unspoken assumption that they werent real agents. But were the ones who make
them look good.
Finney called up the first audio recordings which identified the sample voices. All right, let's start
from the beginning, he said, and they both put on their headphones.
The computer fed them the first recording. Though the tracking device had been placed on the
primary target, it hadn't been activated until many minutes after the fact. He scanned the notes and
clucked his tongue, irritated. The target had discovered and removed the tracker shortly after
placement. So why were they bothering...? Oh. It looked like the tracking device had been picked
up by another person altogether, a person who may have had direct contact with the primary.
The computer pinged, indicating a voice match. He backed up the recording a little bit so he
wouldnt miss anything, and leaned forward, listening carefully.
Hey, Code Blue! There was a rustle of clothing, the sound of footsteps, and a man giggling a
little.
Stop! Easy, Minion. Dont overreact. Code Blue?

There was the faint sound of a man clearing his throat, and another voice said, Uh... yeah...it's...
It's what we say when we hear you've been by, man! the first speaker shouted excitedly. You
go to a store, the whole place is left wide open, wide open, man, all that free stuff, man, I even
slept overnight a coupla times!
Oh, I see, Megamind said in a strained voice. I visit a store, I've left the place unlocked, and
you... gentlemen...pay a visit.
Finney and the assistant transcribed the conversation, compared their copies, and gave them to
another assistant to type up. Then they sat back as they waited for the computer to find another
recording of the voice samples.
--------------Psycho Delic had him, he had the little blue freak right there! Corbin shouted. Why wasnt I
notified?
For like two minutes! What difference does it make? Bates snapped. You want to get waked
up just so they can tell you he got away again? What were you gonna do, go running over there to
help the cops sweep up the trash?
I expect to be kept informed! Psycho couldnt even... Corbin glared at the door to his office
which had cautiously creaked open.
Sparkle stood there, fidgeting. She wore her costume today and her ponytail which hung out the
back of her head covering looked like shed made an effort to brush it.
What? he snapped.
I just wanted to see how you were doing, she said, her voice a squeak. She stepped in, closing
the door behind her. Can we talk in private?
Bates began to stand.
Where do you think you're going? Corbin said.
Bates rolled his eyes, shook his head, and strolled to the other side of the room, reading through a
file he held and avoiding Sparkle's eyes.
Corbin stood up and came around the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. Well? Kind of busy
here.
Sparkle shifted her weight from foot to foot, glancing at Bates. She swallowed and came closer,
talking in such a quiet voice that Corbin could barely understand her. His rage went up another
notch. He hated mumbling.
It's just that I was worried, she whispered. After your...your accident...
Corbin snorted. Wasn't an accident, sweetheart. Come on, out with it.
She stepped closer and laid a hand on his arm, her eyes anxiously searching his face. But you
haven't called or anything. I miss you. Maybe I could come over tonight?
He slapped her hard enough to turn her head.

Her hand flew to her cheek. He stood over her, jabbing a finger at her to illustrate his point. In a
low voice he said, When I want that, I will tell you when I...
Then she turned her face to him, and her eyes were twin suns. She opened her mouth with a
sound like escaping steam. Hssssssss.
Corbin's eyes widened. The heat radiating off her was like a six hundred degree oven.
She lifted off the floor, bright sparks floating around her arms as she raised them. Her hands
glowed even brighter than her eyes. Sparks skittered and danced over the carpet and the papers on
the desk, leaving scorch marks.
The backs of Corbins legs hit the desk as he backpedaled. He wished he hadn't left his gun
hanging on the coat rack. If a fire started, the sprinklers would go off which might bring her to her
senses, but it might be too late by then. Sparkle's ponytail fanned out behind her head like a
crown.
Bates! said Corbin, his voice a croak, and he would have told him to take her out, but then her
head bumped against the ceiling and she blinked.
The blinding light faded and the sparks winked out. Her eyes were wide, but normal, pupils mere
pinpricks. She dropped to the floor so quickly that she stumbled. She lifted her hands, staring at
them in horror, and burst into tears. I'm so sorry, Ed! she cried and flung her arms around him.
Aah! he yelped. Her hands were almost burning through his shirt. He grabbed her elbows and
held her arms away from his body while she hung her head and wept.
He looked over at Bates. The other agent had his gun trained on her. With a grim look, he
holstered it.
Corbin swallowed hard. Sparkle, he said. It's all right. Why don't you go to the bathroom and
get yourself together? Okay?
Sniffling she looked up at him and nodded. He cautiously let her go and she left, wiping her
cheeks.
Corbin went around to the chair at his desk and fell into it. He rummaged around in a bottom
drawer and grabbed the flask.
Bates scowled. Man, we better get a collar on her right now! I almost had to pop her. We can't
afford another investigation.
Mute, Corbin shook his head and took a swig, feeling the burn of the scotch steady his hands.
Not just yet.
Bates gave him a disgusted look. You dont have to do it! I'll have Feiffer knock her out when
she comes back from the restroom.
Corbin slammed his fist on the desk. I can handle her, damn it! I'll invite her over tonight. Ill
collar her myself.
Bates mouth fell open. The look he gave Corbin was amazement tinged with admiration. Man,
you're either crazy, or you got balls. You better hope she doesn't burn 'em off. You still gonna
sleep with her?
Corbin didn't answer. Quite frankly he didn't want to touch her ever again, but no reason to let

Bates know that.

He took another swig, careful to tilt his head so that none of the liquid would escape from the
place where the scars made his lip pull back in a slight sneer. Soon hed meet with a plastic
surgeon to get it fixed, hopefully. Having to keep tilting his jaw and head while he ate or drank
made him feel like he was developing a nervous tic. He just didnt have time right now to make
the appointment. Later, after they caught that little blue bastard.
If there was any useful advice he ever learned from his father, who had ruined his health working
for the Boston police department and gotten stabbed in the back for all his years of service, it was
to never show weakness, and to take what he could get. Corbin had wiped out every other vestige
of his origins, the hick New England accent being the first thing hed shed as soon as he left
home.
There was another knock at the door and Agent Finney stuck his head in.
Corbin slipped the flask back in the drawer. Transcription done already?
The technician adjusted his glasses. Not yet, but I found some ...
Then what the hell are you doing up here? Corbin snapped. Do I have to tell everyone how to
do their jobs?
The technician narrowed his eyes. I should hope not, Agent, he said coldly. They glared at each
other.
Bates cleared his throat. What you got for us?
The technician adjusted his shirt sleeves. Something came up that I thought you would be
interested to know, he said. We believe the primary target is currently in contact with the
recording device.
Corbin jumped to his feet. What? You mean NOW? Where?
Finney adjusted his glasses. A neighborhood by the docks. Heres a map.
---------------Corbin assembled his team, even getting a hold of Freezer Burn and giving him directions to meet
them. Ulrich, that useless lump, was still sitting in a police cell. So far DPI had managed to block
the attempts by Austria to extradite Ulrich, but hadnt quite gotten him back into their own custody
yet. The Metro City police were still pretty ticked off at Ulrichs attack on their dogs and
lieutenant.
Corbin ordered Ross to bring Psycho Delic along. Ross thought about reminding Corbin that the
super was in no shape for a manhunt, but thought better of it.
Psycho Delic was brought up from DPIs cell. Corbin snapped his fingers impatiently at Ross,
who, with a pang of misgiving, handed over the remote control for Psycho Delics collar.
Walk with me, Corbin said, and strode down the hall to the garage, Psycho Delic sullenly
keeping pace. The other agents trailed behind them.
The purple mans coat flapped open, the battered fedora perched on the bandage wrapped around
his ugly skull, and his clothes were wrinkled and still smelled of cigarette smoke from Lucky
Jacks Bar, and the perfume of whatever whore hed been with last.

Corbin almost gave him a shock just for being a slob. Youre a lucky man, he said. Want to
know why?
From long experience Psycho Delic knew that it was best to answer no matter how stupid the
question. Why? he asked in a flat voice.
Because this is your big chance to make me happy again. Little freak spanked you pretty good,
didnt he?
Psycho Delic ground his teeth. The action sent a jolt of pain through his head. He had a
concussion, and not for the first time he wished he could medicate himself. Out of desperation
hed taken an entire bottle of Tylenol, and his stomach was making some weird gurgling sounds,
but the medicine was having no effect at all on his splitting headache. I wouldve had him if it
wasnt for that damn robot, he said. Next time, Ill...
Yeah, and theres that thing Im still kind of confused about, Corbin interrupted. Minion just
came over and grabbed you. You said you thought he was down because he got tasered, and it
turns out tasers dont work on him anymore. Thanks for finding that out. But a huge robot clumps
up behind you and you didnt notice? Megamind was down, too, you said, so he couldnt have
been making trouble. What were you doing?
Not a muscle moved in Psycho Delics face. Nothing.
Maybe you were having a little chat with the blue boy? Getting to know each other, making big
plans?
No, Psycho Delic said.
Their footsteps in the hallway seemed very loud.
What I need to know is, are you still part of the team? Corbins voice was hard.
Psycho Delic glanced at the remote in the agents hand and swallowed. Yes, he mumbled.
Corbin smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. Thats what I like to hear.
Rage made Psycho Delics eyes glow like red hot coals, but he looked away so that Corbin
wouldnt see. One of these days, he thought with savage determination. One of these days Ill get
out of this collar, and you wont have that little remote, and all your fancy kung fu moves wont
help you when I fry your brain.
Now, heres what I want from you today, said Corbin. I know you like to put little hooks in
your smoke to get people addicted to you, because you like to see em crawl. Were going to an
area where the little freak is at, and youre going to call him.
Psycho Delic gave him a puzzled look. Call him?
Thats right. Well close the place off, but Megaminds slipperier than fricking Houdini, so you
are going to make your presence known to him. Youre going to call him to come to you.
What, you mean like walk around going here little freak boy, come here?
Thats right. Their footsteps echoed as they came out of the stairwell and entered the garage.
The agents rapidly filed to their cars, but Psycho Delics steps slowed.
But it doesnt work like that, he said. You fucking moron, he added silently. Maybe in a week,

when he starts to get the craving, maybe then he might start looking for me to beg for a hit, but I
cant just call people so they come running.
Besides, he wasnt sure his hook, as Corbin called it, had taken hold of the little blue geek.
Megamind hadnt reacted in the way hed expected.
Usually guys ran screaming into the night after getting pasted with the hormonal cascade, but
Megamind had started speaking in tongues and attacked the entire bar room. Maybe it was his
alien biology at work, or his fast healing skills had warped the effects of Psycho Delics drug
cloud.
Soon as he sees you and these jerks hes gonna run, he said, nodding at the agents getting into
the vehicles. Even if he does have the hunger. Its not mind control. I cant...
Corbin tilted his head. How do you know unless you try? And you are going to try. He raised
the remote. You better try real hard.
Sparkle drifted along at the back, pale and silent. Corbin brought her along, but made her ride in
another vehicle.
---------Megamind returned to consciousness because his cheek was numb. It seemed to be welded into
the crook of Minions arm.
Speaking of crooks, there was also a crick in his neck because of the unnatural angle he had
acquired while sleeping face down, and as he attempted to lift his head, he swore he heard his
back creak. Crooks, cricks, and creaks about summed up the state of things.
He tried to lift his head but Minions arms were locked around him so tightly that he could barely
move, and his brain was wrapped in fog.
Why was Minion holding him? He craned his sore neck up toward the containment unit, and
could just see Minion sleeping peacefully.
Minion, he croaked. Geez, he needed some water. It brought to mind disturbing memories of
waking up in the car the morning after theyd escaped from Corbin and company.
But he didnt seem to be injured this time. His limbs moved freely, or as freely as they could
within the robotic embrace, and he wasnt in pain, exactly, though he was sore from sleeping in a
weird position and his head throbbed. There was an odd lingering taste in his mouth like
strawberry tar, and hed had some sick dream about zombie clowns and video games. It felt so
real... and a purple dessicated face with yellowing teeth sneering at him...
With the unstoppability of a steamroller, certain memories of the previous night caught up to him.
There were some gaping holes, but what he did remember made his face burn. He closed his eyes
and buried his face in Minions arm. He had been completely out of control, trapped in a
nightmare, switching languages as if a devil in his brain was switching channels. Shooting at
things that werent there.
He got one arm free and pounded on the metal shoulder with his fist. Minion, come on, wake up!
Hey!
Minion awoke with a jerk. To Megaminds amazement, he immediately began singing in Ahrini,
the language of their home planet.

{All the little niwa flying, flying,

All the little niwa flying home.
All the little niwa nesting, nesting,
All the little...}
{Minion, what... a lullaby? What am I, two?} he croaked, falling into their childhood tongue.
Minion stopped and gave him a look of pure relief. {Oh, youre back! Thank the stars! I must
have sung that five hundred times. Almost lost my mind.}
{Let go of me,} Megamind grumbled, pushing on the metal arms locked around him. Minion let
him go and he limped a few steps into the room.
Piles of trash lay randomly against the walls. Three desks covered with appliances were opposite
the only door. Two broken swivel chairs sat next to a card table under one of the windows. The
card table had a prosthetic leg made of a two-by-four and was piled high with cans of partially
eaten food and take-out containers, along with a few odd triangular shapes.
Several of these pyramids sat around the room. Megamind picked one up from the table and
realized it was a pyramid hat made from used aluminum foil. A few bits of blackened food clung
to the edges.
He looked out through the blinds at the one- and two-story buildings, all with boarded up
windows. There was the sound of a truck backing up somewhere in the distance. A raggedy man
was scooping water out of a huge pothole in the middle of the street, an equally shabby dog
lapping it up next to him.
Something moved on the ceiling, and he realized it was a mobile of little pyramids, also made of
foil. Several of these hung from the ceiling, moving slowly in the air currents. White triangles
were painted on the walls. It was like some deranged version of his lost lair, and he wondered if
he was still hallucinating.
Slowly he backed toward Minion. Why were you singing that lullaby? he said irritably. But
even as he asked the question, he remembered why. He covered his face with his hands.
Well, you said you couldnt sleep, Minion said. Unless I sang to you like...er... He cleared his
throat....like Mama did.
Ohhhh, nooo, Megamind groaned and sank down, crouching on the floor in a sort of modified
fetal position.
Minion bent over and patted him on the back. But you were talking in Ahrini, no one else could
understand you!
Megamind dropped his hands and peered up at him with wrinkled brows. What do you mean no
one else? Who else?
A pile of rags on the far side of the room sat up, making him jump up. Hey, hey! Curly said
cheerfully. Look whos up! How you feelin, Code Blue?
Oh thats right. The soap-a-phobic. No wonder the room had such an overwhelming personality.
Megamind had a very hazy memory of meeting him last night, when Minion...

Slowly he turned a look of steel on his faithful fish. You SHOT me, he said, narrowing his
eyes.
Minion drew himself up. Im very sorry about that, Sir, but I didnt have much choice. You were
totally nuts."
Megamind stuck out his chin. Ill have my de-gun back, if you please, he said, frost coating
every word. Minion handed it back with caution, and Megamind returned it to the holster.
Curly ambled over to a little refrigerator and pulled out a package of hot dogs. Score! Theres still
some dogs left. You guys want breakfast?
Megamind looked at the greasy package in alarm. He doubted that there was any electrical power
in the building and he didnt want to think about how long those hot dogs had been sitting there,
quietly growing new life forms.
He flinched when another pile of rags sat up, rubbing its eyes. How many people are in here?
he cried. He strode around the room, glaring at the trash.
Reg watched him narrowly from the second pile. He okay?
Yeah, man, hes good. Got it out of his system, Curly said. We were just about to eat. He
went over to one of the desks and pushed aside a dismembered telephone to reveal a propane
camping stove. He lit it with a disposable lighter. He picked up a gallon jug half full of water,
poured a little into a saucepan and dumped the hot dogs into it. Anybody want some coffee? I got
instant.
No coffee, Megamind and Minion said together. Minion picked up the water jug and stood in
front of Megamind to stop his frenetic examination of the room. Here, take some, youll feel a lot
better. No one else is in this building, Sir.
Got the whole place to ourselves, Curly said.
Wonder why? Megamind grumbled. He almost made a snide remark about overpowering odors
being the best guarantee of personal space, but he bit it back. He was in a rotten mood but not
rotten enough to hurt this harmless crackpots feelings. Megamind was so thirsty he didnt even
ask if there were any cups.
Wow, Curly said, watching him guzzle most of the half gallon. You must be part fish. Makes
sense, makes a lot of sense. He nodded sagely. Ah-ri must have had even more water than ol
Earth, do you think?
Megamind screwed the cap back on the jug very carefully and fixed Minion with another glare. I
thought you said no one could understand me. You translated? He had a hazy recollection of
rambling on and on about Mama and Papa. Bad enough to blather on and on without everyone
knowing what he was blathering about. How many others had witnessed his meltdown? His ears
and cheeks burned again.
Minion tapped his fingertips together nervously. Not everything. Just a little. It was mostly just
me talking about stuff. It was a long night, he mumbled.
Quite frankly it was a relief to have someone to talk to who wasnt practically foaming at the
mouth. Though to be fair, Megamind was in a depressive funk by then, and had stopped trying to
flee into the night and was flopped bonelessly in Minions arms, talking in a steady drone about
destiny and death and lost worlds, and could Minion sing that one song that Mama used to sing?

The word Mama was the same in English as it was in Ahrini, and Curly asked what it was all
about, and so, between singing the lullaby (which quieted Sir right down for a few minutes), he
told Curly and Reg the whole story of how theyd landed on Earth.
The Alien Oversight Committee once questioned Sir when he was about four, attempting to
uncover an alien invasion plot, but the interrogation frightened him and he clammed up, and,
when they persisted, finally began crying. The warden put a stop to it.
No one ever thought to ask Minion anything. The warden and the uncles assumed that they were
too young to remember their home planet. Curly was the first person to ever ask Minion about his
past. It was really quite gratifying to have Curly hang on his words as if he were some great
storyteller, and even Reg, who had retired to his bed early and done his best to ignore Megaminds
rants, rolled over to listen.
Curly turned to Minion and said, I been thinkin about what you said last night, about you two
bein orphans and all alone in the world...
Minion met Megaminds hardening glare. I did not put it like that, Sir. Really, he said, waving
his hands.
Curly spoke on, cheerfully. ...but if the blue people could make a itty bitty spaceship, they should
be able to make a big one, right? Theres probably lots of em!
Megaminds legs went weak. He groped for one of the chairs and sat down, rubbing his temples.
It was too early in the morning for this drivel.
Reg coughed and said, Uh, hey, Curly, dont you think you should check on the food? I think...
Curly glanced toward the little stove. Nah, its fine, man. He went back to his spiel. And when
they get here, its gonna be a whole new age, man! Youre like the ambassador, Code Blue.
Youre like the bridge between Earth and the blue people! Itll be the Age of Aquarius, peace and
light, man! He gave Megamind a big toothy grin, eyes sparkling.
Megaminds neck muscles tightened. Theyre all dead, you delusional idiot! No one is coming!
No majestic alien race is going to fly in from the other side of the universe to save Earth from
itself! Though he felt like screaming, he made his voice calm. Curly... he said.
Hey, you know what? Curly shouted so suddenly that Megaminds elbow shot out and knocked
half the food containers off the table. Your mom could be out there right now, looking for you,
man! You just gotta sit tight.
Minion waved his hands. Whoa, hold on, I dont know about that!
Megamind clenched his fists. I am not going to let him start rambling on about my mother.
Curly... he said again.
Because thats what I woulda done, Curly said, and his face drooped. When I was little, my
mom had to go make a phone call once, and she said shed be right back. She told me I had to stay
in the house. And she was real late getting back. He sniffed. Aint that right, Reg?
Reg took the cigarette out of his mouth and nodded. Thats right, Curly. She probably just got
held up somewhere, he said gently.
Curly nodded vigorously and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Yeah, and I told em that, too, but
they didnt listen. I was supposed to stay there in the house sos she could find me, but they
wouldnt let me. Said I had to go with them, and I got put in a home, man, a guvment home. He

bit his lip, jaw quivering.

But you didnt let them get you down, Curly, Reg said, blowing smoke out in a stream.
Remember?
Curlys eyes shone with tears, but then he blinked and the soft wrinkles of his face joined up in a
smile again. Yeah, thats right, I was too smart for em, man. The guvments got ways of readin
your mind, but this here hat stops the brainwaves. He pointed at the foil hat on his greasy hair.
Because my mom mustve known something about the aliens and thats why she had to
vamoose, and they know shes coming back, so they want to catch her when she does, only they
wont, because they wont be able to read my mind. See?
Completely mystified, Megamind nodded.
Curly nodded happily. When I heard a real live alien baby landed right here on Earth, that was
like the greatest day of my life! Because it means were not alone, man, and someday were gonna
join up with the rest of the universe! Hey, when your folks come, can I go for a ride on the
spaceship sometime? he said anxiously. Only I cant leave Earth for good or anything, cause I
gotta be in the vicinity when my mom comes back.
Megamind glanced at Minion and Reg, frozen in place and braced for his explosion. Then he
looked into Curlys happy, innocent eyes and thought about how some people get stronger
through adversity and some people break, and he decided that maybe Curlys delusions were
preferable to Curlys reality. Besides, if he made the man cry hed never be able to live with
himself.
Yes. Yes, of course you can come along for a ride. Why not? he said, leaning back in the
creaking chair. It almost tipped over and he grabbed the table edge. But it might be a while, he
warned, hoping to stave off any questions about when the starship would come along.
Curly boxed at the air. All RIGHT! And Ill bet itll happen sooner than you think, Code Blue,
he said, waving his finger and giving him a big wink. Oh, hey, the dogs are done. He sauntered
over to the hot plate.
Megamind eased out of the chair and sidled over to Minion. Get me out of here, he whispered
through his teeth.
But Minion had a rare look of disapproval on his face. Sir, I think we can at least stay for
breakfast, he said sternly. Its the least we can do, after they invited us into their home. And
especially since you were...you know... kind of difficult last night. Also, he wasnt quite ready to
tell him that the van had been left behind, many blocks away.
Megamind threw his hands up in the air. Sure! Why not? he cried. Ive been chased, cut,
kicked, punched, strangled, and gotten a nice set of scars on my arm! Havent tried food poisoning
yet! Cant wait to find out what thats like! Before my last meal, Im going for a nourishing walk.
Minions eye ridges shot up. Now? Its the middle of the...
I dont care! I need some fresh air. Wheres my coat?
Minion pointed silently at the black trench coat lying across one of the desks.
Megamind swung it on, shoved his arms into the sleeves, and snapped up the collar. Take a look
at the street, Minion, I dont think the place is exactly a hotbed of activity. Curly, where are we?
Near the pier? The old fish market?

Yeah, man. Hey, it oughta be okay, man, he said, at Minions concerned look. Nobody around
here but squatters like us. A lot of em probably went downtown by now for work. In fact, me and
Reg were thinkin about going to the subway crosstown, for noon rush hour. Sometimes its...
Megamind didnt stick around for the full explanation of the homeless panhandling schedule, but
Curlys voice followed him down the darkened hallway.
-----------Minion sighed. He was glad that Sir hadnt blown his top. Curlys worldview was kind of
exasperating. He was sure Megamind would feel better after a little walk.
Minion accepted the hot dog Curly offered, but he too was a little concerned about the lack of
refrigeration. Er, Ill save it for later. And Curly, you shouldnt talka bout Sirs mother anymore.
Curly looked bewildered. Oh, how come?
Minion realized that explaining could take up the rest of the morning. Its... its an alien thing, he
said helplessly.
It seemed to work. Curlys mouth and eyes opened wide. Ohhh, yeah, its cultural, right?he
said, grinning and tapping the side of his nose. No prob, Bob.
Reg gestured at the hot dog congealing on Minions paper plate. Dont worry about the food, he
said. I got a bag of ice yesterday, put it in the fridge. Wont lie, we got the hot dogs out of the
dumpster, but they hadnt been opened. He took a drag of the cigarette. The thing about
dumpsters, if you go to the same ones regular, you know whats just been tossed and whats been
sittin for a while. Those hadnt been there long. He gave Minion a reassuring nod and tucked in
to his own plate of food.
So, you got a bag of ice, but got food from the dumpster? Minion asked.
We had enough money to either buy food for one meal, or I figured we could use it to buy some
ice, find food to save, and eat for two, three days.
Curly sat on his bed of rags and began work on another hat, taping foil over a cardboard frame.
Have a seat, man, he said, gesturing at the other chair.
Oh, Id probably break it. Besides, this robot body doesnt get tired.
Reg looked at Minion sideways. You mind if I take a closer look at you? he asked shyly. When
Minion said it was okay, Reg sidled over and peered up at the containment unit, and walked
around the robot suit. Wow, you really are just a little fish, he said. And you move this great
big thing around. Thats amazing.
There was such wonder in his voice that Minion blushed. Sir made this for me, he said, his little
body puffed with pride. He can build anything.
I believe it. Reg went back to the table. That song, those little... niwa? What are those? he
asked, taking a sip of coffee.
Minion waved his fins while he thought about how to describe them. They were like little snakes
with green wings. They shimmered.
You mean like bat wings?

No, actually, their wings were made of modified scales that looked a lot like feathers. They were
about the size of robins, and I think they were warm-blooded. Minion bit his lip. His biology
lessons had just gotten started when the world ended. He sighed, thinking of home and of all the
things that had been lost.
The hot dog didnt seem so terrifying anymore. Reg and Curly looked like they werent suffering
from stomachaches, so Minion decided to risk it. They watched him open the top of the
containment unit and bite it in two.
Not bad, eh? Curly said. And only two weeks past the expiration date.
Minion stopped chewing. I have to... er... I better go and... something I need to... take care of...
he croaked, and hurried out of the room. Safely out of sight in the hallway, he spat it out. Boy, it
sure took a lot of work, being polite.
-----------The early May morning was cool and Megamind shoved his hands in his pockets. The sun shone
on the upper stories of the buildings, making a dark canyon of the street.
It was like an abandoned war zone. Shattered windows gaped from storefronts, their boards
scavenged long ago. Huge potholes riddled the street. A street lamp tilted at a 45 degree angle
across the sidewalk.
Through a gap in the buildings a giant crane swung a crate off a ship at the pier. It was business as
usual at the Port Authority. The decayed street he was walking down might as well have been in
another world.
Some of the buildings had collapsed roofs. In an empty lot there were a few tents and rough
houses made out of scavenged boards. Fires flickered within metal barrels. People slumped by the
fires, giving him weary looks as if it was too much effort to get excited about the appearance of an
alien in their midst. They didnt seem unfriendly, but their depression dragged at him. A baby
cried from one of the huts. He walked on briskly.
Blankets and concrete blocks inexpertly plugged some of the gaping holes in old storefronts,
showing that theyd been claimed by squatters.
He turned a corner, then edged between a partially collapsed wall and the skeleton of a fifty year
old truck, and Lake Michigan opened out before him. Seagulls wheeled overhead.
Some distance down the rocky beach a man, a woman, and another woman in a wheelchair were
fishing. They stared at him to see if he was going to do anything interesting, then turned their
attention back to their poles, though the two able-bodied ones shifted sideways so they could keep
an eye on him.
He flung a few rocks into the water. The fresh wind coming off the lake made him feel better,
though Curlys spiel still rankled. Why did these UFO loonies always think that aliens were going
to make Earth a hippie paradise?
Though it could have been worse. Curly could have been the other sort of loonie, the sort who
believed in alien abductions and thought aliens were going to take over the world.
Ha! He should take over the world. Thatd show them.
An ee-vil smile stretched out his lips. Mustnt be greedy. This city will do nicely. Yes. Why not?
Take over the city, and he and Minion would never have to run again.

He heaved a chunk of concrete into the waves. Funny how inspiration worked.
He supposed he should head back, pretend to eat one of those horrible hot dogs, and make small
talk. Perhaps hanging out here for the day would be the best option, while he figured out how to
salvage his evil plan. Go track down drug dealer Otto again, or find Corbins pet computer
hacker?
He wouldnt be able to handle much more of Curlys ramblings, though. Hed have to impress
upon him the importance of silence.
I wonder where Minion parked the van? Some of those potholes were big enough to swallow a
Volkswagen beetle.
The sound of a car door made him look around. He couldnt see where it was because of the wall,
but it sounded close by. Mens voices murmured.
With a sense of unease, he peered around the rubble and his eyes widened.
Agents Feiffer and Pitt walked over to another feds car that had just pulled up. Two more federal
agents got out, and Freezer Burn came out of the back seat.
Megamind jerked his head back, heart hammering. What the----? Fieffer and Pitt! What were those
losers doing here?!
One of the agents said, Okay, start here, Freezer Burn. Block the street and make the wall all the
way down to the lake. Then come back and continue on around the back of these buildings.
The ice made a crackling noise as it spread.
Megamind ran back towards Minion, parallel to the street hed just walked down, using the
broken wall for cover.

Chapter End Notes

Now I wish I could have included more about their original language and their home
planet, but these ideas were developed over time. Otherwise I would have had them
sneakily talking in Ahrini more. Having their own language that no one else can
understand would certainly be useful!
More thoughts: I imagine there were many languages spoken on Ah-Ri, but probably
one or two were widespread and which most everyone knew, just as a practical
matter.

The Hunt for Code Blue

Chapter Notes

"This was no time to go totally mad. You had to maintain standards." -Terry
Pratchett, Nation

Sparkle glided along the air currents. From up here she could see the pattern of men making a
rough half circle around the neighborhood. It was such a large area that DPI didnt have enough
agents to cover it so the FBI was supplying extra agents to help out.
Some agents were talking to three people fishing on the beach. Sparkle watched as the
fisherpeople shook their heads and shrugged at the agents questions. The agents made them come
along to where the rest of the squatters were being herded, though their progress was slowed by
the fact that they had to carry the one in the wheelchair over the rocks.
Sparkle floated over the buildings, most of them one- and two-story wooden structures, several of
which leaned against each other like weary old men. They were dwarfed by the more modern
buildings a few short blocks away and occasionally a shadow from the massive crane at the Port
Authority sliced across the winding street.
Freezer Burns ice wall made a thick white curve along the southeastern side, and was about a
third of the way done. Eight feet high and slippery, it would stop most runners, though someone
really determined could scale it if he happened to have a set of crampons on his shoes, but hed be
spotted immediately.
With the lake on one side and the agents enclosing the area on the other, it was only a matter of
time before Megamind was forced out of hiding.
Her orders were to keep her distance and watch, to alert Corbin of anyone attempting to flee, but
her thoughts were heavy and she didnt pay attention to how low she was drifting until she almost
ran into a corner of a building. With a start she flew higher. The communicator in her ear crackled.
She flinched.
What the hell are you doing? You see anything? Corbin snapped.
Sparkle grimaced. Why did he watch her all the time? It wasnt like she had anywhere to go.
She put her hand to the communicators respond button. No, I dont see either of them. Wait.
Someone running, near Freezer Burns location. They ran up against the wall.
She watched dully as whoever it was traveled along the wall, agents in pursuit. He made a leap
and grabbed for the top of the wall but he slipped off and was forced to the ground.
Her communicator crackled again. All right, we got him. Not either of the targets. Keep a
lookout.
The communicator went silent. Gulls wheeled and cried around her.
She liked flying, and was grateful to Edward for helping her unlock her power of flight. Her other

power was too terrible to even...

Her throat tightened and she dug her fingernails into her arm. She almost lost control again, she
must never lose control. It was so horrible, what happened to her last boyfriend.
The image of Larry, screaming and beating at the flames consuming his hair, flashed through her
mind.
Im so sorry, she whispered, and swiped at the tears blurring her sight. Larry would have to live
with the scars and wear wigs for the rest of his life.
Her cheek still stung from where Corbin had slapped her. Shed just been trying to be nice, but
Corbin didnt do nice. He had only gotten worse since Minion almost bit his face off.
She should be angry about that. Edward Corbin was her lover and protector. He was the one who
cut a deal with the prosecutor, saved her from a prison sentence. Shed only been fifteen at the
time and scared shitless, but Corbin, he helped her out. Minion had made things worse for her.
And Megamind! That little brute, he held a gun against Edwards head, he could have killed him.
She really should be angry about that, too.
Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, as if some wild animal were struggling to get out.
Sometimes she wondered if going to prison for what she did to Larry would really be worse than
what she had to put up with now.
Corbin had waited. Waited until she turned sixteen, the age of consent in most states, before
seducing her.
And he didnt even have to work very hard at that, she thought bitterly. Shed been so pathetically
grateful for the attention.
She was twenty-one now, and what did she have? A man who took her for granted and used her
when convenient, no friends, no family, at least no family she dared contact.
A wave of resentment washed over her. What was with Megamind? Couldnt he see that fighting
back was hopeless? A little freak with nothing, he could run and fight all he liked, Corbin would
catch him in the end.
Yes, she really ought to be very angry.
--------------Megamind darted into one of the rotted buildings, startling the group of men and women living
there. He hurried to the front window and lifted the edge of a torn blanket covering it, trying to see
the street.
One of the squatters held up a bottle. Hey, man, want a little hair of the dog? Feel better in no
time.
Megamind shot her a confused look. Dog hair? I dont need any dog hair. It must be some new
drink he hadnt heard of. Surely they could have come up with a more appetizing name.
He peered out the window again. He could hear voices from about three blocks down. Though he
couldnt quite see what was happening it sounded like the feds were working their way along the
street from both ends.

In the room behind him the squatters exchanged meaningful looks. Gossip spread quickly. It was
both entertainment and a way of looking out for one another. Rosie needed diapers for her kid?
They took up a collection, or picked up diapers when there was a sale. Jamals cough getting
worse? Somebody found him some medicine, or took him to the clinic on the free day. Hannah
and Rico fighting again? Well, sometimes all they could do was plug their ears, but once in a
while a few neighbors dropping by with a little weed could help smooth things over. Everybody
knew about Reg and Curlys special guests. They heard Megamind shouting and carrying on half
the night, but everybody had problems, so who were they to judge?
You looking for somebody? another asked.
There are government agents after me. Theyre coming down the street right now, Megamind
whispered.
More meaningful looks travelled around the room. The woman with the bottle pushed the
newspapers off her lap, got to her feet, and shuffled over to Megamind.
Okay, just keep cool, man, she said in a soothing voice. Why doncha sit down over here, have
a coupla swigs, try and relax. Yer just havin a watchamacallit, an episode. Wow, you really do
got a big head.
No kidding, Megamind muttered, glancing up. His eyes widened when he saw her raised finger
hovering in the air. She was actually about to poke him in the head! He fixed her with a scowl and
she quickly drew back the offending hand. He turned his attention back to the window. He didnt
dare lean out far enough to get a good look.
The homeless woman belched gently. Scuse me. Its nothin to be ashamed of, man, happens to
the best of us. I remember this one time I dropped acid, and I was so out of it I thought pink
leopards were chasin me. Pink! I was lucky I had my buddy Mariko, she was from Japan, you
know, this was back in college, and she...
Megamind whirled. Listen, you numskull, Im not hallucinating! There are real federal agents out
there rounding everyone up, and if you dont watch out youll be next!
There was a shout from outside, and a babble of protesting voices.
Another squatter lurched to his feet, holding onto the wall. Whats goin on out there, Sandy?
Sandy jerked the blanket aside and leaned out.
Megamind ducked under the sill. What are you doing? he hissed. Close that!
Sandy said, Looks like some dudes are... damn, I think they are feds.
The man laughed nervously. Oh, ha ha, Sandy. His gaze shifted uneasily from her to
Megamind.
Two other men exchanged wide-eyed looks and quickly began shoving their things into
backpacks.
Sandy stood on her toes, looking down the street. Im serious. They all got sunglasses and
trenchcoats. Holy crap, a girl just flew by!
Say what?!
You sure it wasnt Metro Man?

I know what a girl looks like, doofus! She was wearin green.
Everyone jumped to their feet and crowded around the window, except for the two men who
clearly had urgent business somewhere other than the middle of a dragnet and raced out of the
room even quicker than Megamind.
The men ran toward the back of the building. Megamind took a side door. He went into the alley
and peered around the corner.
Now he could see them. The feds were about three blocks down to the right. The street curved so
he couldnt tell how far away they were on the left. Curly and Regs place was across the way.
He looked up but couldnt see the flying girl. He guessed it was Sparkle. From what little he knew
of her he didnt think she would try to apprehend him, but if she spotted him, it was all over.
People were shuffling out of the buildings and huts. At least he wasnt the only one on the street.
Jerking his black trenchcoat over his head, he crossed over, weaving around potholes.
Walk, do not run. As if someone with a coat over his head wasnt conspicuous enough.
-------------I was wondering, how come your names Minion? Reg asked, taking another cigarette out of a
crumpled pack and lighting it.
Minion hesitated. Megamind probably wouldnt like it if he kept talking about all this personal
stuff, but what was the harm? It wasnt like it was a real secret.
Its more of a title, he said. In our language, its really more like meen-yahn which means
protector and guardian of this one.
This one what?
Minion shrugged. I dont know. Just this one. The one Im guarding.
He looked at their polite yet confused faces. Well, it makes sense in Ahrini. Sirs just always
called me that. My real names Niri, but Sir had trouble pronouncing his Rs for a while. We
found out what minion meant in English, and we thought it was sort of funny. Plus everyone
else was calling me Minion by then so it stuck.
Reg took a long thoughtful drag of his cigarette. Minion hoped Reg didnt ask about Megaminds
name. He decided he better not mention Sirs birth name was Amlin. Sir had once said, Ive got
enough trouble with peabrains calling me Meg, I dont want to have to put up with Lin, too.
But something else seemed to be on Regs mind. He pressed his spent cigarrette into the floor and
said, Curly, I think its time, dont you?
Curly became very engrossed in his foil hat. Time for what? he said, carefully taping on another
piece.
For you to give it back, man. Curly glanced at Minion then back down again. Hell be mad.
There was a distant shout outside. Minion turned in his bowl, listening. There was no real reason
for the uneasiness that crawled across his dorsals, but maybe he ought to go take a look outside
anyway. It worried him a little that Megamind wasnt back yet.
He took a few steps toward the hall but he paused as Reg started speaking again.

Naw, he wont get mad, Reg said. If Curly found something you lost youd be happy to have it
back, right Minion?
Puzzled, Minion nodded. Distractedly he peered down the dusty hall. The building wasnt so big,
but this far back it was hard to hear what was happening in the street. Well, yeah. Did I drop
something last night?
Come on, Curly, youve had it long enough, said Reg. Go on and give it back. You know they
were looking for it.
With another glance down the hall, Minion stifled a sigh and turned back to Reg and Curly,
wondering what was so important. He was pretty sure he hadnt dropped anything last night, but
that was no excuse for rudeness.
With a nervous, hangdog look, Curly shuffled over to him and unwrapped a handkerchief.
Minions fins slowly clamped themselves to his sides at the sight of the tracking device. Oh, there
it is, he said in a strained voice. Is it recording everything? Pinpointing our location? That...part
that fell off. That thing. Fell right off my suit. He gave Curly a brittle smile.
With care, he plucked the evil little thing off the handkerchief, hoping that maybe it was broken.
No, damn, the little red light still glowed. Ill... reattach it right away. Very important that
whoever was listening on the other end not know that Minion knew about the device.
All he could think of was to get rid of it as soon as possible. Very, very quietly. Can...I just...I
need to...go in the other room, he said. Sort of...of private.
Minion trotted into the hallway, thoughts screaming through his brain. I have to find Sir! Throw
this thing away or...
Megamind crashed into him and bounced off the opposite wall. Watch where youre going!
Megamind said, managing to whisper and screech at the same time. We have to...
With their self-preservation firmly in mind, Minion immediately put him in a headlock and clapped
a hand over his mouth. Megaminds shock and rage at getting grabbed so roughly was a tangible
feeling that travelled up his robotic arm and made one of his gears squeak but Minion hung on. He
held Sir against his chest and held up the tracking device in front of Megaminds furious green
eyes.
Megamind froze in his grip, eyes bulging.
Minion carefully released him.
Megamind gaped at it, struggling to come to grips with the sudden appearance of this viper in their
midst.
Shakily he used hand signals to communicate with Minion, a system they developed in the prison.
How? When? Where? WHO?
Curly, Minion signed back. Had it all this time.
Megaminds head snapped around at the sound of more voices out in the street, coming closer.
Theyre here, Megamind signed at his henchfishs questioning look.

Minion started to sign back, What do we...

Curly and Reg appeared in the hallway. Hey, man, did you get your little doohickey all...
Megamind leaped over to him in a single bound, clapped a hand over his mouth, and shoved him
back down the hall, past the startled Reg.
Whoa, whats up? Whats... Regs voice petered out as Minion frantically made shushing
gestures.
Puzzled, Reg cautiously followed after Megamind and Curly.
Minion stayed where he was. If the tracking device really did have a mic in it, it shouldnt pick up
any of the conversation from that far away and Megamind could explain the situation.
Megamind didnt stop until they were back in the, for want of a better word, living room.
When I take my hand away, Megamind whispered, do not say a word. Not one word. Nod if
you understand.
Curly gave a hesitant nod.
Megamind took half a step back. Close proximity to Curly was singeing his nose hairs. He
breathed through his mouth. That tracking device, youve had it the whole time?
Yeah, man, I thought I could listen in for ya in case any messages...
Megamind made frantic shushing motions with his hands. Curly was speaking in his ordinary
back-of-the-room voice, which could scare birds out of the trees.
Reg appeared in the doorway and was cautiously looking around toward the front of the building,
where there seemed to be increasing activity.
Megamind clenched and unclenched his hands, wondering what in the hell Curly thought the
tracking device was, but there was no time for deep philosophical discussions. He whispered,
Curly, that little doohickey was made by the government. They may be listening!
-------Two more runners. Heading west, Sparkle said into the communicator. They didnt look much
like either Megamind or Minion, but her orders were clear. All runners.
She watched as the two figures ran out onto the beach, followed closely by several agents. She
frowned. They ran along the lakeshore, uselessly. What was the point? she thought. They couldnt
go into the lake and they must see Freezer Burns ice wall at the end of the beach. But even when
more agents came out from between the buildings and blocked them, the runners dodged and
whirled as if another way to escape would magically appear.
The agents drew their guns, made them raise their hands, brought them down.
Shaking her head, she floated higher.
-------Agent Pitt pulled one of the men upright and yanked off the mans hat. Uncover him, he said,
gesturing at the other suspect and another agent yanked back his red sweatshirt hood. These
obviously were not the alien fugitives, but Corbin was being a complete dick.

obviously were not the alien fugitives, but Corbin was being a complete dick.
Kind of jumpy, Pitt said. Lets see what you got. He nodded at the FBI agents. They didnt
work with FBI too often, but at least these guys were on the same page. They didnt hesitate or
make any dumb protests about illegal searches. They opened the bums backpacks and spilled
them out.
Two bongs, cigarette papers, and a ziploc bag with gray leaves in it fell onto the rocks.
Agent Feiffer shifted uneasily and said, Hey, Neil, I dont think were supposed to...
Pitt shot his partner a warning look. Unlike the FBI, Feiffer never seemed to get the hang of how
things really got done. Feiffer always made a fuss.
Pitt glared Feiffer down and then turned his attention back to the bums. You having a little party,
guys? Got some nice cells for party guys like you.
The bums glanced at each other. Not ours, one of them mumbled.
Really. You know, it doesnt have to be you guys going in that cell. Could be the cells really for
the other ones were looking for. See any aliens around here? And I dont mean from south of the
border.
----------Curlys eyes and mouth widened. For REAL? he said in a whisper only slightly quieter than his
speaking voice.
Megamind nodded grimly. For real.
To his surprise, Curlys bristled face reformed into his usual cheerful smile. Well, good thing I
had my foil shields all set up, the man said happily, waving his arm around at the pyramids
hanging from the ceiling. Blocks all the signals, man. Not to worry!
Megaminds mouth opened and closed. Curly, the feds are here now," he sputtered. "They are
outside, clearing the buildings! Cant you hear?
Curly cocked his head. There did seem to be more activity out there, but he wore a preoccupied
look as if he were only half listening, and his brow wrinkled as he looked around at his mobiles.
Huh. Thats weird. One of the shields must be off. Walking over to one of the dangling
pyramids, he turned it around, peering at it. Some foil fell off. I think I got some more that I
can... He began trundling over to his bed of rags.
Megamind grabbed his arm. Forget the foil! Its too late for foil! There has never been a worse
time for foil! Just keep quiet! Can do that much? Can you keep quiet? he hissed, glaring at Reg
and then back at Curly. Ive got to figure out what to do with the tracking device. Do not. Say. A
word.
He went past Reg and returned to Minion, waiting and fidgeting out in the hall.
Smash it? Minion signed.
No, Megaminds response was emphatic. He paced around in a circle, brain churning. The feds
must not have a lock on the trackers location or else they would have come directly to Curly and
Regs buidling. Maybe he should destroy it, or toss it. But what if Curly picked it up again? The
feds would catch him and really make his life hell.

Maybe there was a chance he could still use it to his advantage. Redirect. Send if off in a car, he
signed. Wild goose chase.
Minion nodded his body up and down. Megamind snatched the little device from him and ran
down the hall to the back, Minion, Reg, and Curly trotting along behind.
Or maybe some new paint for the wall pyramids, maybe thats why... Curly muttered to himself.
Shhh! Geez, man, stop, Reg whispered, casting an uneasy look at Minions huge back. He
should have known there would be trouble. Getting involved, it always brought trouble.
Worked pretty good so far. Curly sighed.
---------Corbin strode up and down the current crop of the dregs of society. Or strode as well as he was
able. There were so many holes and cracks in the pavement he had to be careful not to trip. This
neighborhood needed some serious renovation, with a wrecking ball and a flamethrower.
He glared at the blank faces of the people in the line-up, but none of the bums would meet his eye.
Questioning them had been pointless. Nobody saw nothin', and didn't know no aliens, neither.
Interference from radio signals at the Port Authority prevented them from pinpointing the exact
location of the tracking device. Normally they could get to within about five feet, but the invisible
signals fleeting around them reduced the accuracy by a significant amount. Still, Finney estimated
that a sweep of squatter central would flush out their quarry.
All hats off, he snapped, yanking a faded Dallas Cowboys cap off a mans head. He scowled at
his agents as he strode up and down the line. Take a good look at everyone. Is that so hard to
remember? Megamind walked right by the cops wearing a goddam shawl, people. I want heads
bare, faces visible.
Agents ordered people to take off their hoods and hats, and even made a woman uncover her
crying toddler.
Corbin snapped, Psycho Delic, shouldnt you be doing something?
Face like stone, Psycho Delic stalked down the street, Agent Ross trailing along behind. Hey!
Megamind! Where are you? he yelled, feeling like an idiot. His head throbbed. It was obvious
that Corbin was just making him do busy work, to punish him for his failure to capture Megamind.
Corbin went back up the street. His earpiece squawked and he put his hand to it. Yeah, Finney?
Just picked up Megaminds voice. Sounds like he rejoined the group.
Corbin looked around. How far we have to go? he asked Bates.
Few more buildings. Searching the shacks now.
The earpiece squawked again. Pitt and Feiffer picked up two guys who say they know where
Megamind is. Or at least where he spent the night.
Where?
Stand by. They werent too good at description. Pitts bringing them from the lakeside. Theyll
point it out.

-------Megamind looked out of a back window, but pulled back quickly. Men strolled along the alley
and the backlot next door. He could hear a strange crackling sort of noise and guessed that Freezer
Burn was at work somewhere out there still forming an ice wall around the neighborhood,
somewhere behind those buildings.
Soon well be boxed in, he thought, heart sinking. He closed his eyes and brought to mind what
he knew of the neighborhood. He could visualize the streets they could take to get out of the area.
If they could get to the pier, he could stash the tracking device on somebodys car, or maybe a
ship, preferably an out-going ship. Send Corbin on a trip across the lake, thatd be the ticket.
He signed to Minion. Have to get past them. Wheres the van?
Minion grimaced. Back at the bar.
Megamind gritted his teeth. Theyd be on foot. Unless they could steal one of the agents cars.
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. That idea even had a little flair, using one of the enemys
vehicles.
Reg dropped a pack of cigarettes in the dust. Hastily he scooped them up again but when he
pulled out his lighter, Megamind waved and scowled at him until Reg put it away. The agents
might pick up the scent of a freshly lit cigarette.
He ran his free hand over his head, scowling. Reg and Curly needed to stay put. They would be
fine as long as they did what the feds told them and kept their mouths shut.
Stay here, he mouthed at them.
Regs eyes darted around uncertainly. What? he whispered.
Megamind pulled his hand down his face, fuming, wondering how to communicate with them
without going through an idiotic game of cha-rah-des. He'd have to give the tracking device back
to Minion and take them aside for another tiresome conference.
Later he would remember that Curly bore a determined, intent look that was at odds with his
normal appearance of happy befuddlement, but at the time Megamind had a number of pressing
concerns and the significance of Curlys change in demeanor didnt register until it was too late.
A voice, distant but getting closer, echoed through the alley. Hey, Megamind! Get your ass out
here!
The blood drained out of his face.
What with one thing and another he hadnt had much time to think about Psycho Delic.
Only twelve hours ago hed gotten three heavy doses of Psycho Delics drug cloud, and even his
impressive healing abilities were having trouble expunging it.
Psycho Delic called out again. Where are ya? Little runt.
The voice was faint, muffled by distance, but Megamind had never felt such a powerful pull, or
such revulsion, as if a rotted hand had reached out and grabbed him by the neck. He took one
slow step down the hall.

He flinched when Minion placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked up into the ichthyoids
concerned face. Minions eyes shifted down briefly before coming back to look into Megaminds
face. Cautiously the other robotic hand signed, Why did you draw the de-gun?
Megamind looked down at the de-gun, where he held it at waist level. He hadnt even been aware
of what he was doing. A wave of coldness ran down his back.
Taking a look around, Megamind mumbled, and clamped his lips together, looking down at
little tracking device in his fist. He shouldnt have spoken out loud. Maybe...maybe he could just...
talk to Psycho Delic, just for a minute...
His eye twitched and bile rose in his throat. Or maybe shoot him. Set the de-gun to de-stroy and
shoot at that grinning purple face until there was nothing left to shoot at. Loathing filled him. He
felt as though he teetered on the edge of a cliff, with darkness below, threatening to swallow him.
Shaking, Megamind holstered the de-gun. Hold my hand, he signed.
Minion blinked. Say what?
Just do it, Megamind signed frantically. Dont let me...
Then Curly lunged at him, knocking him over into a pile of gunnysacks.

Strange Angels
Through the glass on the already closed set of doors, the killer machine stepped into view.
I have a plan, Dahl said.
Does it involve running? Hester asked.
-John Scalzi, Redshirts
-----Megamind got a sudden close-up of Curlys bulging eyes and bristly beard a split second before
the man sent him tumbling into a pile of gunnysacks, left over from the old fish market days.
A cloud of rotting burlap exploded around him and he got a noseful of ancient fish odor. By the
time Minion helped him to his feet and he got the dust out of his face, Curly was gone, but he
could still hear Curlys voice, shouting. Run for it, man, hey, hes makin a run for it, hurry! This
way! Youre snoozin youre losin, man!
That was when Megamind realized the tracking device was gone. Curly had taken it.
You moron! he whispered hoarsely. You...you... idiot!
He rounded on Minion and Reg, both of whom looked as bewildered as he felt. Why didnt you
stop him? he whispered, barely keeping his voice below a shriek. Theyll kill him!
Reg and Minion waved their arms helplessly and talked at once, furiously whispering. I didnt
know he was gonna do that! I tried, Sir, but it happened so fast! ...took off, man, I didnt think
he could even run... ...grab him but he went around the...
They all shut up as another voice and the sound of running footsteps reached them.
A runner! Runner sighted! Repeat, suspect heading north, northwest...
They pressed into a crouch against the wall as the shadows of running agents flitted by the
window.
After the footsteps pounded away, they cautiously lifted their heads. Megamind blinked at the
anger in Regs face.
You got to get out of here, Reg said. He pointed a surprisingly authoritative arm down the hall.
Side door over there.
More footsteps echoed from the front of the building. Slower, more thoughtful agents were
coming in.
Get! Reg whispered fiercely.
Megamind and Minion slipped out. They were forced to hide again in the next building to let
another pair of agents go past.
It sounded like they were having a little talk with Reg, and they were not being very nice about it,
either.

Megaminds legs went weak and his throat tightened. He crouched down against the wall and
covered his ears.
He didnt want to hear anymore. He didnt want to listen to them interrogating Reg, or think about
what might be happening to Curly. These men who had let them into their home, these men who
had nothing, and now were paying for their act of kindness.
No one was safe. Not when he was around. He was poison.
And he could tell exactly where Psycho Delic was. He didnt know how he knew, he just did. He
knew the other super was getting farther away, stalking down the the street, occasionally
shouting. Megamind could almost hear the words in his head. Where are you, you little snot?
He was definitely going to grill Minion further about the possible psychic abilities of his species.
Not psychic? It sure felt like some kind of twisted mind meld.
Waves of heat passed over him as if he were running a fever. Anguish over his inability to do
anything for Curly and Reg, fury over being unwillingly linked to Psycho Delic, the emotional
overload threatened to consume him.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he pressed the side of his head against the cool metal of Minions leg for
a brief eternity.
Minion gave him a gentle shake of the shoulder. Megamind looked up at him in despair.
The ichthyoids face was grim. Its over. Lets go, he signed.
Megamind scrubbed a hand over his nose. Its over. Minion understood why he was having a
minor meltdown. Minions presence was the only thing that kept him from going after those
bastards, de-gun blazing.
The feds had carted Reg off to go with the other people theyd rounded up. Or beaten him. No,
probably not that. Even with his hands clamped over his ears he probably would have heard the
sounds.
Megamind didnt think he could handle the truth just then, so he didnt ask.
Reg could have easily saved himself trouble by ratting them out, but he hadnt.
At least Minion didnt bother with Im sure theyll be okay, nothing to worry about or any
other such tripe.
He couldnt hear Psycho Delic, or even sense his presence anymore, though the terrible
compulsion to seek him out and destroy him burned underneath Megaminds ribcage like a
banked fire, waiting to spring to life again.
Maybe if he ignored it long enough it would go away.
There was nothing to do but press on. Megamind set his jaw and let Minion hoist him to his feet.
---------At headquarters, Finney frowned as he tried to decipher all the racket. There was a lot of shuffling
around, furtive footsteps, then the sound of what might have been a brief struggle and someone
exhaling sharply as if hed had the wind knocked out of him, then some crazy person yelling.

Dont we have a lock on it yet? he snapped.

The other techs shook their heads. No, too much static from the pier. But trackers definitely
moving. Arent they done clearing the buildings? Cant be that hard.
Agent Corbin, look for runners, Finney said.
Where? Corbins crackly voice responded.
Still dont have a lock. Just look, Finney said impatiently. Friggin interference, he grumbled.
Hed told them to update the system how many times?
-------Hi yaaa! Curly shouted, kicking out the boards in the window. He jammed his foil hat more
firmly on his head and climbed through, running into the next building.
Man, this was fun!
He wondered how the feds had tracked them down. He suspected that his foil hats and shields
hadnt quite done the job of deflecting the feds sonar, but he would make it up to Code Blue.
Code Blue was one smart hombre, hed know exactly what Curly was doing, he would know
instantly what had to be done.
Hed watched, fascinated, as Code Blue talked with his buddy in that secret sign language. They
were figuring out how to escape, he was sure of it, and Curly knew exactly how to help. Make a
big distraction, that was the ticket.
He hadnt run out into the street, of course. He might be crazy, but he wasnt stupid.
It kind of slowed him down some, having to run from building to building, because there were lots
of bricks and leftover timber and peoples sleeping bags and stuff, but there were plenty of
windows and, in some cases, big holes in the wall, for him to run through.
Plus all the stuff he dodged around sort of slowed up the guys chasing him, too.
He glanced over his shoulder and his eyes widened. Yikes, it wasnt slowing em down quite as
much as he thought. Plus he could see in the gaps off to his side that a few of these guys were
running ahead of him, trying to cut him off.
Wheezing, he clambered over another windowsill.
A man tackled him and he hit the dirt. He coughed and spat while the fed pinned him face down.
Aw, nooo, Curly complained. My hat! Hey, anybody see my hat? His head felt cold.
Squinting, he tried to look around for it, but all he could see was a bunch of feet surrounding him.
He craned his neck but couldnt see beyond anybodys knees.
He was hauled upright. The first face he saw looked like it had gotten up close and personal with
a chain saw.
Jiminy Christmas, man, you might want to see a doctor bout that lip. Dont it dry your teeth
out?
The man didnt seem to appreciate the advice. Curly looked around at the group of agents in
fascination.

fascination.
Wow, you all really do got black coats and sunglasses, he said. Is that, like, the uniform?
One of the agents handed the tracking device to the scarred dude. He glared at Curly, then jerked
his chin at the other agents.
Two of them grabbed Curlys arms and pulled him into the building directly behind them.
They passed into shadow, the warmth of the sun disappearing like itd been cut off.
The scarred dude came up to him and got right in his face, cracking his knuckles. Where is he?
he said in the coldest voice Curly had ever heard.
Well, if there was one thing Curly knew, it was you didnt tell The Man anything if you could
help it. Wheres who, man? I think you got the wrong...
The scarred dude belted him in the stomach.
Curly tried to wrap his arms around himself but the other guys had too tight a grip on his arms.
Even over the sound of his own gagging, Curly heard a clean, snickety sort of noise which drew
his attention.
Scarface had a knife in his hand, a big one. The big brick-faced guy on the right took hold of
Curlys hand and held it up. The scarred dude grabbed Curlys pointer finger and laid the knife at
the spot where it joined his hand.
Next time, I use this, the rat bastard said.
Hey, not cool, man, not cool, Curly gasped. Sweating, he tried to think of a way to stall, but the
hot pain in his belly was slowing him down. He couldnt take his eyes off the knife. This dude
had issues.
The man said, You think anyones going to care what happens to some smelly old bum? Im
only going to ask you once more. Where is Megamind?
Inspiration struck. Say, you know what, I think they were tryin to get to the beach, man, hes
part fish, you know. They were gonna swim for it.
Scarface ran his thumb along the edge of the blade. Do I need to tell you whatll happen if youre
lying? Curly shook his head hard. The beach, man, seriously. His heart sank. He was a
positive thinker, but right now it was hard to see if anything good would happen to get him out of
this little ol problemo, but hed just have to hope for the best. Maybe the guy was just trying to
scare him. He sure hoped so, otherwise Curly was gonna have a hard time with missing fingers.
Scarface ordered the other agents. Sweep the lakeshore again.
---------Megamind and Minion crouched behind a pile of crates in an alley, studying the ice wall. Not
everyone had gone haring after Curly. Several agents still patrolled the wall. None of them were
visible at the moment, but he could hear voices on the other side.
We can shoot the wall, make a run for it, Megamind signed.
Theyll hear it.

Hoist me over, then haul yourself over.

Theyll see us.
Why am I the only one coming up with ideas? Megamind signed angrily.
The faint crackle of a communicator almost directly over their heads made him stop in midgesture. Minions eyes grew round with alarm.
They looked up.
Sparkle hovered overhead, long sleeves rippling in the breeze.
Looking them in the eye, she put her hand to her ear and murmured, Nothing yet. Standby.
Megaminds lungs felt like they were squeezing shut. He and Minion stared at her like headlightfrozen rabbits.
She didnt turn us in. Why didnt she turn us in? Megamind thought. He would have very much
liked to consult Minion on this important matter, but his hands had turned to bricks.
Sparkle looked at them from under her eyelids, face impassive. Slowly she rotated, gazing out and
around as if she were scanning the area.
I should dehydrate her, he thought, but she was above the roofline and probably was visible to at
least a few agents. Someone might see the shot. And shed said Standby. Whoever was on the
other end of her communicator would be expecting a response.
Besides, she hadnt told on them.
This was not necessarily a good sign, but it was a definite leaning in that general direction.
Of course, this caused a new set of troubling possibilities to worry over. Maybe she wanted to
capture them by herself. Or kill them. But she would have blasted them by now. Or scare them.
Doing a pretty good job of that last one.
Maybe she wanted to make a deal. But about what? What the hell did she want?
Sparkle rotated until she was facing them again, then floated down into the alley, her boots settling
onto the ground with a soft crunch.
Rising from his crouch, he searched her face, looking for clues as to whether or not they should
fight or talk or run. He turned sideways away from her, and carefully pulled aside the edge of his
trenchcoat so he could draw the de-gun fast, if needed.
She raised her glowing hands and curled them into claws. Hands where I can see them, she
said.
He let the edge of the coat fall and carefully lifted his hands. Okay, so she was no fool.
Her head jutted forward like a bulls and her lips were pressed together. Her flowing green sleeves
brushed against the ground.
She did not have a friendly look.
But she hadnt turned them in.

He held onto that hope very cautiously and recalled what he knew of her: power of flight,
employed by the Department of Paranormal Investigations for six years, had the ability to produce
massive energy blasts of unknown composition, but this was largely untested. She rarely displayed
this unique talent due to a psychological block stemming from past trauma. Occasionally she lost
control, and once caused a three-story warehouse to explode.
She hadnt turned them in. But she could. At any moment.
First Curly, now Sparkle. My life is in the hands of crazy people.
Sparkle took a step closer, her brow wrinkling as she looked him up and down. You really are
just a kid, she said, her voice rising high, as if she were either disappointed or surprised.
He rose to his full five foot, two-and-three-quarter inch height and lifted his chin. You were
expecting someone taller? Age is overrated, madam, he said coldly. Thats it, Im growing some
facial hair. No more of this baby face.
Her nose wrinkled at madam, just as hed intended. She huffed out a breath and shook her head.
Why didnt you kill him? she asked in a low voice.
Somehow Megamind didnt need to ask who him was.
It wasnt... necessary, he said.
Her face twisted. She bared her teeth and her eyes closed to slits. A tear ran down her cheek, and
he noticed that a slight bruise was darkening there.
You should have! she said, choking out the words. Her eyes began to glow, growing brighter
and darker as if she were attached to a dimmer switch. She opened and closed her hands, then
rubbed her wrist over her face. The tear sizzled away at the touch of her hand.
How is she doing that? he couldnt help wondering. How does her cheek stay cool but her hand
heat up?
She stuck her jaw out and glared at him. Dont you think its necessary now? she said, waving
her arm around as if to encompass the sweep of the manhunt taking place. Sparks flew off her arm
and skittered along the brick wall.
Im not a murderer, he said, keeping his voice calm. Why dont you do it? Youre closer to him
than I am.
Sparkles face twisted with fury and turned beet red. Whats that supposed to mean? she hissed.
What did you hear? Her eyes glowed white again, and so did her fists. A strange hum seemed to
rise from her, just on the cusp of hearing.
Minion tugged on his shoulder. Sir, dont make her mad, he whispered. Maybe you should let
me...
Megamind shook him off. He felt as if he had plunged into deep waters and didnt know how to
swim, with sharks circling, and it was exhilirating.
Here was an opponent! Here was someone he could negotiate with, a silver road of confrontation
laid out before him, he was completely ad-libbing, but finally here was a chance to use his wits, an
invigorating change from all the skulking and hiding.
As long as she didnt suddenly blast him, of course.

He took a step forward, though the heat rising off her made his eyebrows start to crisp. You must
see him all the time. You work together, dont you?
A strange look passed over her face that he couldnt interpret. Yes, she said. But you had him.
You could have done it, she said. The corners of her mouth turned down and she looked close to
tears again.
Looking at her bruised cheek again, he made a guess. Why do you want him dead? Because he
gave you that shiner?
She was silent for a moment. Walked into a door, she said levelly.
He nodded. Here was a code he was familiar with. I used to walk into doors all the time, when I
was in shool, he said, watching her carefully. Her face was a grim mask, but she was listening.
There was this...other boy who decided to make my life a living hell. To make an example of me,
I suppose, with his superior strength. But whenever my father... He grimaced. I mean
...whenever anyone asked, Id say I hit my head on the desk or something.
Her eyes lost their deadly glow and turned normal human brown. She rubbed her elbow and
muttered, Yeah. Or the corner of a cupboard. Or tripped, She gave a short, harsh laugh. Stupid
thing for me to say. I can fly, how can I trip?
He resisted the urge to look up and down the alley. He wasnt up to enduring this little heart-toheart for too long. The sooner he figured out her intentions, the better, before a couple of feds
came strolling around the corner.
What were they going to do next, start sharing their hopes and dreams?
He wasnt thrilled with revealing his own emotional scars, but it could help her decide to let them
go, and escape herself. He quite liked that idea. It would weaken Corbin, stripping him of one of
his allies.
I think the hatred I had for myself, that was as bad as the physical pain, he said. He didnt even
have to make anything up. The pain of that self-loathing and the feelings of helplessness from the
old shool days had faded, but they were still there, tucked away and safely contained.
At his side, Minion shifted the bulky robotic suit and turned in his bowl to look at him. Megamind
sensed the ichthyoids compassion like a warm glow, but he kept his gaze on Sparkle. There
simply was no time for any more sharing of hurt feelings.
Megamind winced as the memories of a more recent, more savage beating flashed through his
mind. Far worse physical damage than anything that brat Wayne Scott had ever put him through,
but strangely, the beating from the feds hadnt traumatized him the way the rejection of his
classmates had.
Odd, once he thought about it. Maybe he just had too much scar tissue on his soul now, or maybe
it was because hed fought back and freed himself. The curative powers of using Corbins own
gun against him could not be underestimated.
He touched the side of his jaw. Corbin hits hard, doesnt he? Believe me, I know, he said.
Sparkle rocked back and forth, clutching her long green sleeves. This was a mistake, she
muttered. I shouldnt have done this.
Megamind felt sweat break out on his face. What was she deciding? Shouldnt have done what?

He was sympathetic to her plight but he had his own plight to worry about. Clearly she wanted to
escape Corbin, but she didnt seem entirely committed to the task. If it came down to choosing
between him and Minion or her, then he would choose him and Minion.
Keeping his eyes on her, he lowered his hand to the holster. This time she didnt seem to notice
that he was reaching for the de-gun.
Minion made a nervous little squeak. Megamind shot him a glare and the ichthyoid clamped his
hands over his containment unit where his mouth was.
His fingertips brushed the handle.
Sparkles communicator crackled, making all three of them start. Agent Corbin sounded quite
peeved. Sparkle, whats your position? he barked. Are you even airborne? What the hell are
you doing?
Sparkle grabbed at the little device in her ear. Um. Just. Checking. Checking on the south side,
she said in a tight voice.
Get your ass moving already! Get over to the lakeshore and help with the sweep.
Okay, she said quietly, and clicked off the communicator.
She and Megamind exchanged a look of complete understanding. Corbin is a dirtbag.
Megamind realized his fingers still touched the de-gun.
She gave him a cold, calculating look, and he knew that she knew he was thinking about shooting
her.
She said, If you dehydrated me, then he would take me back, no questions asked. He thinks Im
a useless idiot anyway. Id be off the hook.
Megamind swallowed hard. Er. Yes? he said. I suppose so. His heart pounded in his ears.
Or if I turned you in now, hed be pleased. Happy. Hed be good to me again. Her lip stretched
into a sneer. For a while. Her face hardened. I dont want to go back.
Er. No? Of course not, he said, sweat trickling down his back. It wasnt just the heat radiating
off her. These waters were really deep, with deadly undertows.
She chewed on her lip, and became silent again. She appeared to be mulling over a large number
of things.
What if she asked him to shoot her? Did she know about the de-stroy setting? Was she THAT
desperate to escape Corbin? He would never agree to such a request, but he felt sick at the thought
that she might ask.
He tugged at his collar. Perhaps he ought to contribute something to the conversation before she
reached a conclusion that he might not like. If you let us go I promise I will do much worse than
kill him. I will ruin him. He raised his hand and clenched his fist.
She gave him a thoughtful look. To his immense relief, she nodded.
You can use your communicator to lead them astray, he said.
No, she said with finality. No more talking. He twists every word I... Her face contorted with

No, she said with finality. No more talking. He twists every word I... Her face contorted with
fury. She yanked the communicator out of her ear, flung it to the ground, and stomped on it.
Theyre always telling us not to talk to suspects, she said. Builds empathy. I shouldnt have
talked with you. And now I cant go back.
She jerked her chin toward the ice wall. Go. Not as many agents that way. And soon there wont
be any. Ill draw them off.
A ghost of smile tugged at her mouth. She took a deep breath, like the intake of a furnace and her
eyes and hands glowed again. A wisp of steam escaped her lips.
They backpedaled. The temperature had shot up a few hundred degrees.
An extremely powerful super who hadnt spent any time working on controlling her powers, on
making adjustments and fine-tuning her abilities, could result in a very messy situation.
Maybe you should think this through a little more, Megamind said, waving a hand in her line of
sight, but she didnt seem to see him anymore. She was almost too bright to look at. You can just
fly away. Youre not even collared, they cant track you, can they? Im not sure its such a...
She lifted off the ground, bright yellow sparks skittering off the alleys walls. Megamind and
Minion yelped as sparks landed on them and they slapped them away.
She shot into the sky, trailing streaks of energy like a giant firework.
Uh oh, Minion muttered.
There was an explosion that shook the ground.
They crouched behind the crate pile, the only cover in the alley. It wasnt even big enough,
Minions shoulder stuck out, but the agents running past them were too preoccupied to take a
good look.
Megamind uncovered his head. Well, at least theyre going to be kept busy for a while, he said
shakily.
They ran toward the eight-foot high barrier. Megamind drew the de-gun to make a hole.
Suddenly a tidal wave of light shot across the ice wall.
Look out! Minion shouted, and landed on him.
The wall exploded, sending shards of melting ice in all directions. Ice chunks ricocheted off
Minions back.
In the distance they heard a man screaming, My wall! You blew up my wall, you crazy bi....
AAAAAHH! Another explosion rocked the ground.
Freezer Burn, Minion muttered.
Thatd be my guess, Megamind said, crawling out from under Minions bulk.
Once a fuse is lit there is nothing you can do but run for it, so they did.

A Hero Will Rise

Chapter Notes

"Why can't we for once have a meeting in Starbucks?" -Eoin Colfer, "The Lost
Colony"

The ground shook again as another car exploded.

Shes gone crazy, Bates muttered.
Corbin shook his head and ran his hand through his singed hair. No, if shed cracked, the whole
blockd be up in flames. He scowled. She was aiming. One of those plasma blasts had gotten
close to giving him a hotfoot he would never have recovered from. Her main targets had, so far,
been the ice wall that Freezer Burn constructed and their cars.
She wasnt just randomly firing, she was helping Megamind get away.
Theyd taken cover in one of the buildings. Corbin looked around at the crouching men, the
agents, Freezer Burn, Psycho Delic. Most of the bums had scattered, though Megaminds pals
hadnt gotten away. Reg and Curly, both cuffed, sat on the floor with their backs against a pile of
concrete blocks.
Agent Feiffers voice crackled in his earpiece. What now, Agent Corbin?
Psycho Delic muttered, How bout you go out there and show her whos boss?
Corbin filed that away as an insolence to be mulled over and punished later. Stand by, he said
into the comm. Corbin ran his gaze around the other men, judging their capabilities. Freezer
Burn, Ill need you to create a diversion.
What? Me?! Freezer Burns eyes were as big as saucers. Go out there? Did you see her blow
apart my wall?
Forget the stupid wall. If you can ice her hands, thatll disable her, at least for a minute, then we
can take her out.
But its so hot. And Im all dried out.
Its not even 70 degrees, Corbin snapped. And you got a whole damn Great Lake to feed off,
right across the street. Lots of humidity. Freezer Burn created ice by drawing on his own bodys
water reserves and the moisture in the immediate environment.
Yeah, but...
A flash of light sent them ducking for cover. Outside, a section of asphalt mushroomed. A few
moments later gravel pattered down. Someone must have poked his head out of one of the
buildings. Sparkle was keeping them penned in.
Corbin glared at the quivering Freezer Burn. Give him Snow Queen or Ice-Capade any day.
Freezer Burn would get one more chance to prove his worth. If not, well, Corbin would get to

shop for an ice-powered replacement. He hardened his voice, allowing no room for any more
argument. You better grow a pair, right now. On my signal, run out and hit her quick. Even if
you miss...
Freezer Burn made a gurgling noise.
Corbin held up a warning finger. ...even if you miss, and I know you wont, itll distract her.
Well be right behind you.
Bates and another agent pushed Freezer Burn to the entrance.
Corbin touched his communicator. All agents, ready weapons, move into position, get a visual on
Sparkle.
Every agent in the room drew his gun.
Curly turned to Reg, his eyes wide. Hey, are they gonna shoot that girl? Reg, I think theyre
gonna shoot her! They cant do that!
Shhh! Reg hissed, shooting a nervous look at the agents. He wasnt too happy about it either,
but it wasnt like they could do anything. Besides, that girl was nuts.
Corbin stared intently out at the street. Smoke and dust drifted around a series of new potholes. A
shadow glided past overhead. That must be her. On my signal, he murmured. Freezer Burn
goes first. Be prepared to move out immediately. Fire at will.
He nodded at Bates, who put one hand on Freezer Burns shoulder and got ready to shove, if
necessary.
Freezer Burn, eyes wild, thought about icing Bates and making a run for it, but he caught the look
in Corbins face. He slumped in Batess grip. If he tried that, the agents wouldnt hesitate to shoot
him, and he wasnt any more bullet proof than Sparkle. Quaking in his blue and white boots, he
whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut. He lifted his hands and Corbin felt a cool breeze waft over
his cheek as Freezer Burn activated his power.
And then a young mans voice boomed cheerfully across the sky. There a problem here, miss?
There was a startled female yelp from above, and then a tremendous explosion high above the
rooftops. The afteraffects sent shafts of light through the windows, making everyone cover their
eyes. There was a big splash as something plummeted into the lake, followed by a rumble as a
small tidal wave crashed onto the rocky shore.
The agents looked at each other, then hurried outside. Even Freezer Burn forgot his terror and
cautiously stepped out behind them. Water ran down the street, filling up the potholes. Corbin
scanned the sky, wondering what had happened. There was no sign of Sparkle.
Metro Man appeared overhead, paused in the air, looking around with a scowl. He disappeared
behind the buildings again, and there was a splash as another small tidal wave crashed through the
alleys and extinguished the burning cars.
The bums and agents came out to watch Metro Man soaring into the sky again. He flew up higher
and higher, circling around in a widening arc. Then he touched down in the middle of the street.
There was a ragged cheer from the homeless, and even a couple of agents joined in.
Metro Man wrung water out of his cape. When Corbin walked over to him, the hero flipped his
wet hair back, ruffling it out. There was a huge hole burned into his shirtfront, and the edges of the

fabric were blackened, but his massive chest was unscathed. Corbin took out his badge and
identified himself.
Metro Man flashed a wide smile. Afternoon, sir! he said. Thought I could be of assistance.
Wheres the culprit?
Metro Mans smile faded and he shook his head. She got away. Her energy blasts were a lot
stronger than I thought. Took me by surprise. She knocked me into the lake, and by the time I got
into the air again, I didnt see her anywhere. Ruefully he brushed at the soot on what was left of
his suit. My suit didnt hold up so good either.
A female voice in the crowd shouted Wooooo! and there was a smattering of applause. Metro
Man heard one woman whisper Too bad she didnt burn it all off, followed by some giggling
and a muted argument over his age. He felt his cheeks get hot but he threw a sideways look
towards them, and cocked an eyebrow just to let them know he could hear every word. This also
seemed to be a big hit, and it didnt seem to faze them like hed hoped. He tuned them out as best
he could and refocused on Agent Corbin.
I suggest you go look for her immediately. Shes gone rogue," said Corbin.
Metro Mans eyebrows went up. Gone rogue?
Im the Acting Director of the Department, he said. Conducting a joint operation with the
FBI. He looked around, gesturing the other agents on the street. Were attempting to capture
Megamind, and now we have another problem. Would you be willing to assist us in apprehending
him, Minion, and the girl? We could use all the help we can get.
You said she went rogue. That means shes an agent?"
One of our specialists. Cant imagine why she turned.
Psycho Delic snickered in the back. Corbin shot him a glare that should have burned him into the
nearest wall.
Metro Man looked at the purple man, who gave him a long, slow grin. Uh...sure. Be glad to,
Metro Man said tearing his gaze back to Corbin. I took a good look around, but Im afraid the
flying girl escaped, and I didnt see Megamind either. Is he still in the area?
No, Im sure hes long gone by now. Her names Sparkle. She helped him get away.
A shout came from behind Corbin. They were gonna kill her!
Metro Man looked over at Curly, splashing through the puddles toward them. Corbin scowled and
gestured impatiently at his agents. Two of them moved quickly to intercept Curly.
Metro Man gave Corbin a startled look. Is that true? Corbin gritted his teeth, angry that
everyone had been so busy gawking at the hero they hadnt minded the prisoners. We were in a
tight spot. Had no reason to believe she wouldnt have killed us. Not all of us are invulnerable,
son.
The agents were dragging Curly away. These are bad dudes, Metro Man, bad dudes! he cried.
He was gonna cut off my finger!
Metro Mans eyes sharpened.

Hes crazy, said Corbin.

Wait a minute, fellas, please, Metro Man said, floating over the wet street toward them.
The agents stopped hauling Curly away. Curly shook his shoulders in an attempt to straighten his
coat and gave them an indignant look before turning to Metro Man.
Metro Man nodded. Hey there, friend. Who tried to cut off your finger?
Him, over there, Curly said, jerking his chin at Corbin. Scarface.
Corbin strode around the flooded potholes. I would never do a thing like that.
He did too! Curly cried indignantly. Said if I didnt tell where Code Blue was, hes gonna cut
me!
Metro Mans brows wrinkled. Code Blue? Megamind?
Uh-huh, uh-huh, Curly nodded vigorously. Hes my friend, man, I dont rat out my friends.
Rage was a barely banked fire in Corbins eyes. Hes obviously confused. Can you really put
any stock in what some crazy person says? Hes drunk.
Curlys mouth dropped open. I aint drunk! I dont drink! Metro Man, you gotta listen, Code
Blues the bridge, man, hes gonna bring in the new age...
They threatened me too, Metro Man, Reg said suddenly. They hit me and shoved me, and...
There! See? Curly yelled.
This isnt anything to concern a young hero, Corbin said in a voice like steel. Both of these
men are suspected of harboring known fugitives, loitering, and being in illegal possession of
government property.
You mean that little doohickey? Hes got it in for us, man, I didnt steal nothin, and that was a
recording device, he was spying.
Very expensive surveillance equipment, and its perfectly legal.
Metro Man looked from Corbin to the suspects, then he did something truly brave. Sir, I dont
believe you are making a legal arrest, he said. I respectfully request that you let them go.
I dont think so. They are in my custody.
Then let me take them to the nearest police precinct. They can be held there without fear.
Corbin glared at him. Are you accusing me of abusing suspects? Just on their word?
Yes, sir, I am.
Corbin stepped closer to the young hero. What are you going to do about it? he said quietly.
Beat me up if I dont follow along with your little agenda?
Oh, no, sir, Id never do that, sir. Metro Man shook his head, frowning, as if the very idea was
repellent.
Good. Corbin smiled. He thought so. This kids a real Boy Scout.

But I would file a complaint with the Inspector General, and the Internal Affairs office, and Ill
have to consult with my parents lawyer to see what other action needs to be taken. Metro Man
folded his arms over his chest.
They looked at each other, faces expressionless.
Corbin clenched and unclenched his fist. A Boy Scout with some legal pull. Which precinct will
you be taking them to? Corbin asked.
Metro Man heard sirens in the distance. He didnt need his super hearing to tell they were coming
closer, everyone could hear that cops were on the way, drawn by the explosions. How bout I
turn them over to the officers coming along here? Metro Man said, feeling a funny little knot in
his stomach.
Metro Man didnt normally feel fear, not like other people did, but this knot in his stomach was the
kind of thing that came up whenever he did something his dad didnt approve of. Apprehension.
Anxiety. The nagging feeling that he wasnt being a good boy. Good, decent boys trusted
authority figures and obeyed the rules.
But Metro Man had learned that sometimes, law enforcement officers didnt always follow the
rules. He respected cops, and knew they faced danger every day, but they were only human.
Bullies could hide behind badges.
------At the police station Metro Man's state of undress caught a lot more sideways female glances,
creating minor casualties. Officer Hollins ran into a door and one of the dispatchers almost
sprained her wrist tripping over a wastebasket.
He borrowed a coat from Sergeant Gerard, the biggest guy on the force. It barely covered his bare
chest and he still accidentally ripped the sleeves but at least he was decently covered, once he got
the buttons closed.
He sat down with Reg and Curly, and made sure there was a prisoners rights advocate there to
record their conversation when he asked them to tell the full story of what had happened. It took a
long time, mostly because Curly kept excitedly interrupting about how the blue people were going
to usher in a new age of peace and harmony, but with the help of Reg, they eventually got through
it.
Afterwards, Metro Man called his parents lawyer and asked her for a real big favor. To take on
Reg and Curlys case.
She was a hard sell and strongly advised him to leave it to the public defender, but after some
sweet-talking on his part, she agreed to send one of her clerks to the station to get a copy of their
statements. This doesnt mean I can take their case, she warned him. Lord Scott is going to
wonder about these extra fees, Wayne. I dont do pro bono.
Yeah, I know, Ill talk to him. Thanks a lot, Mrs. Tolliver. He hung up the phone with a heavy
sigh. His father would not like this at all, using up their lawyers precious time for charity work for
a couple of homeless guys.
------Megamind hurried through the alleys. Hed caught a glimpse of Metro Man flying by, on his way
to investigate all those explosions, no doubt, and the sighting added extra urgency to his

movements. He cocked his head, listening. The explosions have stopped, he murmured.
Maybe she got away, Minion said uncertainly.
Megaminds lips tightened. Maybe. Or maybe Mr. Goody Two-shoes had knocked her out of
the sky and delivered her right back into the hands of her abuser.
There was nothing they could do. Hed told her to take off, but did she listen?
This was why he hated getting to know people. If he didnt keep up the persona of pure ee-vil he
ended up caring.
They hurried on their way, slipping from one shadowed alley to the next. As Megamind turned
the corner that would take them back to their van, they came face to face with Iggy, the man who
had arranged their fateful meeting with Bruce Otto.
Iggy bore a pained look on his face, as if hed spent the night in a pile of garbage in a drugged
stupor, which, in fact, he had. Having just regained consciousness, he was making his shuffling
way home.
Iggy peered at them short-sightedly, then stiffened. His bloodshot eyes widened.
Megamind narrowed his own eyes as a suspicion took hold.
Staggering back, Iggy managed to force his wobbling limbs into a low-speed jog, back the way
hed come.
The suspicion morphed into certainty.
Seize him, Megamind said.
Minion shot out one of his retractable arms and snagged him by the neck of his scuffy jacket. Iggy
yelped and wriggled, but Minion held a chunk of his shirt, too, and the henchfish tightened his
grip, twisting the clothing so that his prey couldnt slip out. Iggy scrabbled at the nearest wall and
dragged his feet, but Minion easily reeled him in.
You dont seem very happy to see us, Iggy, Megamind said in a cold voice. Dont you want to
know what happened at our meeting with Bruce Otto?
I dont... its just, I got stuff to do. An appointment, Iggy mumbled. He reeked of fear.
No one else knew we would be at Lucky Jacks, said Megamind. When lo and behold, we are
targeted, and attacked.
I didnt do it, I swear, I dont even know Psycho Delic. Iggys mouth snapped shut and he
swallowed hard. He never was at his best in the morning.
Minion growled, You set us up.
Iggy grimaced. Please dont hurt me.
Megaminde eyebrows shot up and he pressed a hand to his chest. Me? Hurt you? You wound
me, Iggy. But just out of curiosity, I wonder what Bruce Otto would say if he knew you were
secretly working for his competitor. Kind, gentle soul that he is, Im sure hell understand.
Iggy whimpered, Oh no, please, no, dont tell him. Ill do whatever you want. Here, just
lemme... He fumbled in his jacket.

lemme... He fumbled in his jacket.

Minion grabbed his wrist and yanked hard. Iggy wailed, Its your money, man! Im just givin it
back!
Megamind frowned at the folded bill in Iggys fist. Thats a five, he said. I gave you a twenty.
Do you really think it will make up for your vile act of betrayal?
Iggy patted at his coat with his free hand. Its here somewhere.
A sudden, terrible realization wiped Megaminds sneer off his face. He jabbed his hands into his
own pockets, his coat, pants, and shirt, and he even looked down his shirt, which was a stupid and
desperate act. He would have noticed if a great big wad of cash fell inside his shirt. Minion, did
you take that roll of cash off me last night? he asked.
Minion drew a sharp breath. Oh no. No, I didnt. Dont tell me you...
Lost it, Megamind groaned, and put his hands over his head. The whole forty-one thousand.
Iggy whimpered, Oh Jesus, oh shit, I didnt take it, man.
Megaminds shoulders slumped. There was no telling where it had fallen out. His marvelous, twopronged plan Operation: Frame Agent Corbin Like We Framed Justin Henkler was in ruins. They
had nothing to buy illegal contraband to plant on him, and no time to regain their loss. It had taken
weeks to steal.
Search him, Megamind said dully, but without any real hope. He seriously doubted that Iggy
could have picked his pocket.
Minion grabbed at Iggys ankles, preparing to turn him upside down and shake him out.
Gently, Megamind snapped. Iggys face was so pale he looked like he was going to puke.
Megamind wasnt concerned with this dingbats well being, it was entirely because he didnt want
to put up with the stench.
Grumbling, Minion set Iggy down and turned out all his pockets, finding an empty cigarrette pack,
a cell phone, and the twenty dollar tip that Megamind had given him, as well as the dehydrated
park bench, but that was all.
Megamind worked his jaw and stared at nothing in particular.
Iggy clasped his hands together, driven into further terror by Megaminds silence. He glanced at
the glowering Minion, but found no sympathy. Maybe Megamind was thinking about telling
Minion to break his legs, or worse. I had to do it, he said. I had to tell Psycho Delic. He made
me do it. Hes got this power, this purple smoke, its the sweetest thing you ever tried.
Megamind felt a hole open somewhere under his ribs, and his breathing grew harsh.
Iggy searched Megaminds face, desperate for some sign of understanding. Yeah, you know
what I mean, dont you? You got some of his haze, right?
Megamind took half a step back.
Iggy reached out a hand. Its in your eyes. I can tell, he said.
Minion tightened his grip on Iggys shoulder. Hey, why dont you shut up.

Iggy grimaced and pried helplessly at the metal hand. He hooks you in, he whispered.
Megamind drew the de-gun and fired.
Minion looked at the little cube lying in the dirt, then back at Megamind, a concerned wrinkle
between his brows.
Megamind shoved the de-gun back into the holster, his hand barely shaking, and turned his back.
We need to focus, Minion. Right now we need to get our vehicle back. Everything else... will
have to wait. Megamind went down the alley. Minion sighed and hurried after him.
They peered around the corner, where their van was getting hooked to the back of a tow truck.
Two police officers chatted with the tow truck driver. A group of neer-do-wells shared cigarettes
under the awning of a quickie loan shop. Down the block, a pot-bellied man was hosing off the
sidewalk of Lucky Jacks bar, occasionally splashing the yellow police tape criss-crossing over the
shattered entrance.
Rats, Minion muttered. Well, theres plenty of other cars around. We can take our pick.
Megamind glared at the cops. The last twenty-four hours had been nothing but one disaster after
another. Reg, Curly, and Sparkle, people he was reluctantly forced to accept as friends, or at least
allies, were paying the price for his freedom and it was just debt piled on debt.
He couldnt do anything to help them, other than try to take out Corbin, which was quite frankly
looking to be harder and harder to do. He had to concentrate on the second part of the plan, which
was now the only part of the plan left, and get it done right. Well, at least he could do something
about the van.
He strode out of the alley and down the street toward the cops. Minion said, Hey, wait! but he
kept going.
The cops were so engrossed in small talk they never even noticed him coming down the sidewalk,
until Megamind opened fire.
One cop dehydrated, then the other got hit as he turned around in surprise, grabbing at his own
gun.
Megamind didnt break stride, but walked up to the shocked driver and aimed at his head.
Unhook my van immediately, he said.
The driver reached into the truck and fumbled for the switch. Slowly the winch lowered the front
tires of the van back onto the ground. Megamind walked the driver to the back, aiming at him the
whole time, while Minion swiveled around in his bowl, trying to keep all the gawking bystanders
in sight.
Smash the radio, Megamind said.
Er, what? Which radio? Minion asked, swiveling around again and tapping his fingertips
together. His fins trembled.
Megamind raised his eyebrows in an exasperated way and jerked his head at the tow truck. The
CB radio, Minion. In there.
Oh, right, right. Minion punched the CB to smithereens.
The driver fumbled the chains off the van. Hold him, Megamind ordered Minion. The driver

was not going to cause any trouble anyway, but it was important to make it clear who was in
control.
The henchfish took hold of the drivers upper arm and Megamind blasted the policemens squad
car into cubes.
Someone shouted, Yeah! Shoot em up! Down with cops!
Suspiciously he looked around. The guys hanging out by the loan shop were grinning. One of
them, presumably the one who had philosophical differences with the establishment, clapped his
hands with gusto.
The guy hosing off the sidewalk scowled, but didnt look inclined to make a protest at this lack of
respect.
Megamind felt the strain in his shoulders relax. A ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth. He studied
the police tape over the bar entrance and thought about looking for his missing money in there, but
if the money had been dropped in the bar, the cops had probably found it. Incompetent stooges
they might be, but a fat wad of dough would be hard to miss.
As they pulled away, tires squealing, there was a ragged cheer from the anarchists.
Now that is more like it, he said with a grim smile.
-----Sparkle held her knees tight to her chest. The traffic on the overpass made the bridge shake,
especially when trucks rumbled over, but she wasnt budging until nightfall.
She squeezed her legs hard. She hoped she hadnt killed him. Metro Man was supposed to be
invulnerable. He must be all right, even if she had blasted him into the lake. Shed just been so
surprised.
There werent very many flying supers in the world, but shed never run into him before. She
should have thought about that, that he would come to investigate the explosions. Surprise helped
her make her escape, but she didnt think shed be that lucky a second time. Now that he knew the
strength of her plasma blasts, hed be better prepared next time. If he were still alive, that is.
She scrubbed her hands over her eyes. Well, he had to be all right, didnt he? So she fled, in a
panic, and knew she had to get out of sight as soon as possible, because she didnt know how fast
he could fly, so she hid under the bridge, and here she was stuck, unless he found her with his xray vision. She could sneak out after the heat was off and...
Oh no. She couldnt go back to her apartment. Not now. Her tentative plan had been to keep
Corbin and the others cornered until she was sure the alien boy and his fish friend got away, then
fly back to her apartment immediately for a change into civilian clothes and to get her money.
Once she was out of this ridiculous green suit, she would just be an anonymous young woman,
and she would get on the first bus out of town.
Damn Metro Man! Hed delayed her, forcing her to hide, and DPI was probably staking out her
place by now.
Tears stung her eyes and she pounded on her knees. She was so screwed. She couldnt fly away,
Metro Man would catch her. She couldnt walk around town in this outfit. Maybe she could steal
some clothes, money... her stomach growled. Food.

Hey! You up there!

Her back tried to burrow its way into the concrete behind her. Someone had spotted her.
It sounded like a woman, and so far as Sparkle knew, she was the only woman at this branch of
DPI. Police? FBI?
With a weary sense of doom, she thought Oh what the hell. I could fly away fast, and hide again,
maybe. Cautiously she stuck her head around the pylon.
A woman with fiery red hair done up in spikes stood on the shoulder of the road, wearing a short
black jacket, a red shirt, and a black mini skirt. Her hands were on her hips and a frown was on
her face. A man in a white t-shirt with torn off sleeves leaned against a white El Camino parked
on the shoulder. The shiny metal trailer attached to it looked like it was in better shape than the
car.
Sparkle felt like undercover cops wouldnt wear quite so much make-up or give off such a
scuzzbucket feel. Even the guy looked like he might be wearing mascara, like hed just gotten
finished with his garage band competition.
Come down here so I can talk to you, the woman called.
Sparkle looked suspiciously up and down the road going under the overpass, but there were only
a few cars and trucks driving by. Traffic rumbled over her head. If they were cops, they were
supposed to show their badges. Were they trying to trick her? Was a sniper hiding somewhere,
waiting to pick her off? Shed seen it happen before. DPI was not known for its patience or
compassion. Shed never seen these people before, and she knew most of Corbins cronies,
including the really shady ones.
Even from so high up Sparkle could see the womans frown deepen. Well? the woman
snapped. I dont got all day.
Let me see your badges, Sparkle called. She wanted to know who she was dealing with.
The woman shook her head and stomped her pointy black boot. Her eyes narrowed as she looked
up at Sparkle again. She lifted one of her hands to waist height. A ball of fire appeared within her
clawed fingers.
Sparkle drew a breath. Another super.
Red waved her hand and the flame winked out. She tapped her foot again and cocked her head.
Sparkle floated down to the road. Red looked to be in her late thirties, crows feet visible even
under a heavy coating of foundation. There was a harsh set to her red lips that reminded Sparkle
too much of Corbin. Names Hot Flash. She held out her manicured hand.
Sparkle shifted her weight. Her smile at Sparkles hesitation came close to mockery. I dont bite,
honey.
Well, its just that... my hands might be too hot, still. I might burn you. Sparkled glanced at her
hands with a critical eye, but she caught the wary look that passed over Hot Flashs face. People
were hardly ever scared of Sparkle. It gave her a little feeling of satisfaction that she supposed she
ought to be ashamed of, then decided not to.
The fact that Hot Flash was worried about getting burned was an interesting fact. Not immune to
all heat sources, then? That was worth remembering. If there was any good to come out of her

association with Corbin, it was the skill of ferreting out weakness. I guess theyre cool enough,
she said airily, and firmly shook the other womans hand. Im Sparkle.
Hot Flash smirked. Cute. How about you come with us? Got a business proposition for ya. Hot
Flash half turned to go to the car.
Sparkle didnt move. Whos he? She cast a nervous look at the silent t-shirted man. He was big
and a snake tattoo covered his beefy left arm.
Thats Link, my boyfriend. Dont worry about him, hes normal. What the hell you so scared of?
Didnt you just blow up half the south side?
Sparkle felt her throat close up and she hugged her arms, her little feeling of power evaporating.
What difference does that make? she said. You could drug me, or shoot me.
Look at it this way, said Hot Flash. You cant stay here. People seen you. She jerked her head
at the roadway. Two more cars drove by, tires amplified by the space under the overpass. But its
up to you, she said, shrugging. Come with us, or take a chance on Wonder Boy plucking you
out of the sky. Her smile turned into a leer. Unless youd like that.
Sparkle rocked back and forth, biting her lip.
Hot Flash rolled her eyes. Fine. I guess Im wasting my time. She turned and strode back to the
car, heels clicking. Link opened the driver side door.
Wait, Sparkle said. Where are we going?
Hot Flash smiled. Taking a little road trip. Links band has a gig down in Missouri and theres a
girlfriend I want to go visit on the way. Us girls got to stick together, right?
--------------Corbin leaned back in his chair. This is for real? he asked Agent Stone.
Stone nodded and glanced over his notes. Yep. Soons I mentioned prison, Jenkins sang like a
canary. He didnt even demand to have counsel present. Not much of a law student if you ask
me.
Technically, Ronnie Jenkins wasnt guilty of anything, except for possibly being a greedy idiot.
They could try prosecuting him for knowingly accepting stolen goods, but it would be almost
impossible to prove. Ronnie could simply deny knowing that the money hed gotten from
Megamind had been stolen. But Stone had hinted there might be certain charges pressed against
him, and Ronnie had been only too happy to talk. The interrogation hadnt provided anything
useful, really, but Stone was glad hed turned up someone he could throw to Corbin.
Corbin tapped his finger against his scarred lip.
So the warden knew where Megamind was hiding out, Stone said, as Corbin continued to stare
into space with that disquieting smile. Do we bring him in?
Corbin shook his head. No, we dont have enough of a case. Not yet. Add this to John Parkers
file. Lets wait and see what else turns up.

Hacked
Brad got the door to the apartment closed, and all the locks locked. He clicked on the light, took
three steps forward, and froze.
Megamind sat stretched out on the couch, thumbing through one of Brads vintage comic books.
Ollo, Bradley Newton, he said without looking up. Hows tricks?
Brad knew it must be a ploy to put him off balance. It was working. Surely Megamind hadnt
been sitting there reading in the dark, though the way those green eyes shone, Brad wouldnt have
been surprised if he really had been.
The squeak of metal joints made Brad whip his head around. Minion stood by the closed door,
face expressionless, and casually crossed his arms over his chest, giving the impression, and a very
good one it was too, of huge muscles flexing.
Brad swallowed and shuffled around to face the young alien flipping through his comics. Howd
you find me? he asked dully, and then his eyes darted to the photographs scattered on the coffee
table.
Believe it or not, Brad, I was prepared to be sympathetic, Megamind said, still apparently
engrossed in the comic. Ive had first-hand experience with Corbins recruitment methods so I
thought he strong-armed you into working for him. It was nave-ee-tay on my part, assuming hed
threatened to beat you or some such. But I suppose one cant do that sort of thing to just anyone,
he added with a sigh. Especially people with American citizenship and legitimate tax-payer status
and whatnot.
Navy.... what? Brads heart was pounding, but his frightened brain latched onto the odd word.
Megamind scowled. Nave-ee-tay, he said, flapping a hand in irritation. Inexperience. Lack of
wordliness.
Brad shook his head helplessly. Hey, Im sorry about... about everything that happened, but I
cant help you. Tell you what, if you leave now, I wont even say anything. To anyone.
There was complete silence, except for the brief metallic sound of Minion shifting his weight and
the creak of the floorboards under his feet. Megamind set the comic book down on his lap,
steepled his fingers over his chest, and looked at Brad, eyes glittering. Oh, dont say that, said
Megamind. I think you will be extremely helpful.
Quite a chore, tracking you down, he continued. Fortunately it occured to me that there may
have been a particular reason for Corbin to want you to help him break in to Tanaka Industries all
those months ago. Not easy finding one peson with only their first name to go by, in all the several
hundred people that Tanaka employs, but there you were.
Tossing the comic book onto the stack, he swung his feet onto the floor and stood up. Hidden
away in the Negotiated Departure file. Corbin could have found just about any old computer
hacker, but the best hacker of all would be someone who worked for Tanaka. Or at least used to
work for Tanaka, before his little...hobby got him in trouble. Megamind glanced at the
photographs splayed on the table.
Brad protested, Hey, Im not doing anything wrong. I didnt take those photos.
Megaminds mouth twitched. And yet, they are in your possesesion, he said. You really

Megaminds mouth twitched. And yet, they are in your possesesion, he said. You really
shouldnt have been looking up these kinds of things at work. Careless. Especially for one with
such extensive computer knowledge.
But Im not doing anything wrong! Brad snapped. Theyre art.
Oh, yes, this one is especially artistic, Megamind said, snatching up one of the photos. He
flipped it Brad, hard.
Brad flung his arm up and the sharp corner of the photo jabbed him before it fell to the carpet.
Id rather deal with drug lords than pedophiles, Megamind growled. If it werent for...
A pedo--- thats sick! Brad said indignantly. Im no pedophile! I just look.
These are photographs, Brad, of real children, younger than I am, and someone had to shoot
them, Megamind said, voice rising.
But theyre girls. Its okay to look at girls. Thats normal.
Megaminds face hardened. He stalked around the table, fists clenched.
Brad backed up hastily, almost running into Minion. Flinching away he changed course until he
had his back to a wall. His shoulder knocked the digital clock off its hanger. He had a sudden
flashback to high school, and the sharp-edged kids who used to hang out behind the building,
smoking cigarettes and talking trash. Brad had lived in mortal fear of them. Megamind would have
fit right in.
Angry green eyes bored into his for several moments, and then Megamind took a deep breath and
straightened, lowering his fists. Then I count myself lucky that I am not normal, he said coldly.
Im going to go out on a limb here and guess that, in exchange for not going to prison, Corbin
offered you a way out. Help him break in to Tanaka, and hed get you off the hook. Ill make you
a similar deal. Give me the security codes for DPI and I will let you leave town.
I cant help you, Brad whispered. I cant.
If you refuse, I will send this evidence to the police, your nearest and dearest relatives, and all
your associates at the Sky High Comic Shop.
Brad rubbed his mouth, trying to think of a way out, and grasped at one last straw. Corbin will
get me off the hook again. It seemed a little reckless to say, but he had run out of options.
Megamind looked at him steadily. Are you sure about that? Really sure? Now that the whole
Tanaka business is over and done with, are you really that useful to him anymore? If your butt
lands in jail again because of your little hobby, what makes you think Corbin will let you live?
Especially with what you know?
Brad licked his lips again, mind racing. He would never squeal on Corbin, he valued life too much
for that, but he was supposed to keep his nose clean. Corbin didnt like it when his people got
arrested. Sometimes his displeasure became very pointed. You have to promise to let me go, he
said. I need to get out of town.
Megamind nodded. Yes. As far away as possible.
----------The records of DPI safely accessed, Megamind downloaded everything into his laptop. He

dehydrated Brad. He planned on keeping his word to allow him to leave town, but not just yet. As
nervous as Brad was, Megamind didnt want to take the chance that Brad would have a panic
attack and tell Corbin that Megamind had gotten into DPIs records. Afterwards, after Corbin was
taken down, then hed let Brad go.
Megaminds own jitteriness was growing. A repulsive hunger was growing within him, a hunger
that had nothing to do with food. His thoughts kept straying to Psycho Delic, and he did not like
it. So long as he had a plan to put into action hed been able to keep it at bay, but now that the
confrontation with Brad was completed, it was becoming more insistent, like a string was tied to
him and it was tugging him toward the purple man.
Back at their makeshift lair, which had enjoyed a previous life as a pigeon coop on top of an
empty building near Uncle Harrys place, Megamind took a little tour through the Department of
Paranormal Investigations employee files, financial records, and anything else that looked
interesting. It was all there. DPI kept records on every super-powered being in the world, their
families, and whether they were villains, heroes, or were trying to live under the radar.
Megamind found a file with his name on it along with his other aliases, John Doe aka Blue.
Minion had a file too. And, naturally, they read them.
It was rather alarming to discover that the FBI had attempted to seize Megamind when he was six.
He tapped his fingers against his mouth thoughtfully, while Minion finished reading the page.
Maybe hed misjudged the warden. If the old man had wanted to rid himself of the burden of two
alien kids, he could have simply stood aside and done nothing. Problem solved.
A warmth of a very unfamiliar feeling settled in his heart. To his surprise he realized it was
gratitude.
Finished? he asked. Minion nodded and he clicked on the next document. What he read there
chilled him and wiped out any vestigial affection he had left for the warden.
The Scotts, Minion said, puzzled, eyes scanning the damning sentences again. The Scotts were
footing the bill? Thats just... He shook himself in his bowl, unable to find the right words.
Incredible? Unbelievable? Abhorrent? Megamind said, leaning back. Paying to keep us behind
bars. Follow the money, they said. Always follow the money, but hed never given any thought
to who was paying for his upkeep. He just assumed it was the will of the city to keep potentially
dangerous aliens where they could keep an eye on them. He felt as angry at his own ignorance as
he did against Parker, the Committee, and now, the Scotts.
Did their snot-nosed super-brat know?
The file didnt specify exactly who got the money. But he could guess. Why had Parker stopped
the FBI from taking him away? Because he didnt want to lose a source of revenue, perhaps?
Every affectionate word and deed from his foster father took on a vaguely sinister glow. Perhaps it
had all been a calculated show of concern, to keep Megamind satisfied and quiet right where he
was. A few pats on the head, a few hearty words of encouragement, a few bones thrown to the
alien boy.
A more reasonable thought tried to edge in, the thought that the warden wouldnt have had to
bother showing any kindliness at all, that he could have locked Megamind away in the deepest
cell where he would never have to see the troublesome alien, but Megamind wasnt open to
reason just then.
The truth would set you free, it was said. Like hell it did. The truth was a sock to the gut.

How could he do that to us? he whispered.

Minion glanced at him. Who? Lord Scott?
He shook his head slowly. The warden.
Minion bit his lip. Maybe he didnt know? he said uncertainly.
How could he NOT know? My legal guardian didnt know where the moneys coming from? I
doubt it. Anger filled his belly. The Scotts funded the Alien Oversight Committee too. Ha! Do
they have the entire city in their pockets? I wouldnt be surprised.
There were files on his prison uncles, too, but he returned to the main menu. As fascinating as it
was to uncover the deep, dark secrets of his incarceration, hed better get back to business.
A number of supers appeared to have died in custody. Others were on the run. There was a file of
Assets which turned out to be a listing of who was bought and sold. There was even a brothel
out in Nevada somewhere.
There were video records, labelled Interrogations. If Megamind hadnt been so agitated he might
have paused to think before clicking on one of them. An image appeared on screen, a man in a
dirty gray jumpsuit tied to a gurney by his wrists and ankles. A power inhibiting collar was locked
around his neck.
Psycho Delic entered the room from offscreen.
Megamind felt every hair on on his body stand on end.
Hey, Peeper, Psycho Delic said, grinning, his voice tinny on the recording. Long time no see.
The man tried to sit up, straining against the straps. I wont do it anymore, Psycho, he gasped.
Tell them I wont run away again. Looking around at the walls he shouted, Corbin! I wont do
it anymore!
Psycho Delic cocked his head as if listening. I dont think thats gonna fly, Peeps. Lets get this
party started.
Megamind fumbled around the keyboard and clicked out of it. The walls closed in. Pushing out of
the chair he went out onto the roof.
It wouldnt do to let his profile show up, even though it was the middle of the night, so he found a
place against the wall where he was in shadow and the breeze blew in his face. He looked out
over the bright lights of the surrounding buildings.
In the distance, the red light on top of a radio transmitter slowly winked on and off. He let the
sounds of traffic wash over him, trying to banish the image from his mind. He focused on the slow
blink of the red light. The output of a typical radio tower was 100 kWs, he recalled. At a hundred
meters, dividing the amount by 4 times pi (r) squared, with the right kind of receiver, one could
harvest enough energy to maybe power a light bulb. Much more efficient to steal energy from
high voltage transmission lines, he thought. The main trick was to siphon it off without the power
company coming around to inspect.
Minion came out too, and stood looking out over the city with him. Sir...
Im fine, Megamind said.

Look at me and say that.

He stiffened at the stern sound of Minions voice and shot a glare at him, but he couldnt quite
meet Minions eyes and his gaze skittered away. His breath grew harsh in his nostrils. Do we
have to do this now?
I dont think it can wait. That video...was bad, but you are really jittery. A lot more than usual,
and thats saying something.
Megamind rubbed his eyes. I just feel like I need something. A cigarette or, or, or a drink.
You dont smoke. Or drink, either.
No kidding! he snapped. He was able to meet Minions somber gaze this time. But maybe it
would dull this... this other thing. It would be better than... He pressed his lips together.
Psycho Delic? Minion said.
Megamind gave a short nod and looked away again. Pushing off from the wall he went back into
the lair (hell, it was a damn shed, who was he kidding?) and flopped down into the short-backed
swivel chair. Minion sat on the floor in front of him so that they were eye to eye.
Megamind swiveled back and forth a few times until Minion put out a firm hand and seized the
armrest, making it stop. Megamind had the sudden urge to punch him, which would only have
hurt Minions feelings and possibly broken Megaminds hand, so he wrapped his arms around his
stomach instead. What the hell was the matter with him? Medicine, then, he said. There are
medicines that help people recover from addictions.
Minion thought this over. I dont know, Sir, wed need a doctors supervision. I dont think we
want to start pumping random drugs into you.
Who said anything about random? Megamind snapped. I can find out what will work! Who
needs doctors?
Minion shook his little body firmly. No. You cant just do a little research and pick up this kind
of thing from a textbook, or the Internet. Well, you could, but theres all kinds of thing that can go
wrong, that only doctors with experience can...
Megamind waved his hands. All right, all right. But I have to do something. Back at the
squatters neighborhood, when they were looking for us, I thought I could hear him in my head.
Minions forehead wrinkled. You sure?
Megamind fell against the back of the chair and dragged his hands down his face. I dont know,
maybe I imagined it, he groaned. With Psycho Delics vocabulary, it wouldnt have been too
hard to guess what he was shouting. Even with my hands over my ears and my eyes shut, I felt
like I could tell where he was, he said. When he was getting closer, and when he was moving
farther away. It seemed like I could feel it.
They sat in worried silence for a little while. Megamind picked his fingernails. A bead of sweat
formed on his temple and he wiped it away. He thought about how Minion would probably go to
sleep around dawn. Then I could sneak out. Psycho Delic was staying at the Federal Building. He
dug his fingernails into his palm. I am already planning on going to find him, somehow. But just
one hit could help clear his head and stop this damn twitchy feeling that was growing like an itch
he couldnt scratch. He realized he was rocking and made himself stop.

Minion chewed his lip. Huh. Thats kinda like...nah.

Like what?
Just a thought. Heh. Random. I just thought it reminded me of our bond. Because I can sort of
tell where you are.
Megamind stared at him. You can tell where I am through our bond?
If were close enough. Within about five or six feet, I think. Havent measured.
Megamind put his hands on the armrests and slowly pushed himself to his feet, never taking his
eyes off his loyal henchfish. You mean youre psychic? he cried. I cant believe this. You
never said a word! All this time you ... whats so funny? He put his hands on his hips and glared.
Minion shook with laughter, fins and dorsals waving. Oh, Sir, dont be silly, he finally said
when he got a hold of himself. This doesnt have anything to do with being psychic. This is
natural.
Megamind rolled his eyes and flopped back into the chair. Well, then, what does this natural
phenomenon consist of? he said, making quotes in the air with his fingers. Is it biochemical?
Minion scratched his dome. Hmm. Dunno. Maybe.
Megamind narrowed his eyes. Can you read my thoughts or tell what Im feeling?
Oh no, nothing like that. I cant read your mind, and I just have to look at you to tell how youre
feeling. But thats just because I know you so well.
But you can sense my presence. And only when Im close.
Yep.
What good is that? Megamind said, exasperated. If Im within five or six feet you just have to
look for me, not access some ephemeral bonding mechanism!
Minion looked hurt. It doesnt have to do anything. Its our bond. Were bonded. It means well
be together forever.
Megamind held up his hands, grimacing. Okay, dont get upset," he said more quietly. "I was
merely trying to find out if theres some additional utilitarian purpose. He rubbed his forehead.
Though I suppose it would be useful, if I were stuck under some rubble or something, and you
couldnt see me, he muttered.
He looked up. Does this mean I can do this too? Sense you through the bond? It might help
explain why he sensed Psycho Delics presence.
Minion brightened. Hey, I never thought of that before! Yeah, Ill bet you can.
So how do you... access it?
Well, I just sort of think about it and I feel it.
Not very helpful, Minion. Megamind crossed his arms over his chest, scowling.
Minion shifted his weight. Well, I never had to explain it before. I just think about it, and I
remember how it felt when we first bonded. And then I just feel it. He waved his hands vaguely,

and his face relaxed into a smile. Remember that day, Sir?
Of course I remember. We locked gazes and my parents took turns carrying both of us around all
day. If you were out of my line of sight for even a second Id cry.
It certainly had made nursing a challenge. Still an infant, hed barely even slept, but his meenyahns warm eyes were riveting, as compelling as his mothers presence, and just as vital.
Minion peered at him. I concentrate a little, and then I just... His voice trailed away and his eyes
unfocused. He became very still, and not even his fins moved. Then he blinked and gave
Megamind a puzzled look. Will you allow me to come closer, Sir?
Megamind shrugged, feeling uneasy at Minions sudden formality. Of course, Minion. They
were already almost knee to knee. He perched on the edge of the chair so they could bring their
heads together. Minion pressed his head against the inside of the bowl and Megamind did the
same on the opposite side. Minion looked into his eyes.
Megamind tried not to squirm. Moments passed. He clenched and unclenched his hands on
Minions shoulders, fighting impatience. Whats he doing, giving the bond a check-up?
Then the itch behind his eyeballs got worse, and invisible fingers pinched his heart.
Ow, he complained, leaning back. He rubbed his chest and forehead. Did you do something? I
feel like... Minion?
Minions eyes were wide as if he saw some invisible horror, and his jaw hung slack. No, he
whispered. That son of a bitch. His voice changed into a growl on the last word and his little
face contorted with rage.
Megamind stood up hastily and bumped into the chair. Being on the receiving end of Minions
anger was a completely new experience. Whoa. Easy there, Minion. I dont like to say this, but
you are starting to freak me out.
Minion blinked and shook himself hard. His gaze softened as he looked at his friend. Sorry, Sir,
Im not mad at you. I didnt mean to scare you.
Who said anything about scared? Megamind snapped. I was just... concerned.
Minion didnt miss a beat. Right. But he messed with it. He gnashed his teeth. Its all sludgy.
What does that mean? The blood drained out of his face. You mean Im bonded to him? he
cried. Bonded to that...that... He waved wildly out in the general direction of the city.
No, no! Its not a new bond. But its like he tapped into it somehow.
Shaking, Megamind paced twice across the small room, rubbing his hands. What did he tell you
when you had him captive? Did he say anything that might give us a clue to what he did?
Minion scratched his dome. Umm, when I threatened to smush his head, he said something about
endorphins, and a hormonal cascade. To make a fight-or-flight response. And boy, did you
fight! He chuckled.
Megaminds mouth twisted. Ew. Hormones. Little microscopic bits of Psycho Delic had
invaded him. Yuck yuck yuck. He spasmed with revulsion, shaking his arms, and paced across
the room again.

Minion grabbed his elbow and drew him to a stop. Sir, I think your system is fighting it. You
recover from stuff so quickly. And he only got you that one time.
It was three. Three doses of that smoke. He shuddered. Uurgh.
Well...I still think you can shake this off. You just need to hang in there, give it time to pass.
But how? People cant just fight off addiction with willpower! He pulled away from Minions
gentle grip and paced around again.
Minion grabbed both his arms on the next pass and looked hard into his eyes. But other people
dont have me, Sir. I can help you. Youre always calmer when we touch. We can ride this thing
out, together.
Im the one who has to ride it out, Megamind snapped, shaking off Minions grip but he didnt
pace around again again. He crossed his arms over his chest.
Itll be all right, Sir. Maybe we can sort of... re-bond.
But how long will it take? We need to get this information out, he said, gesturing at the
computer.
Minion looked at him sideways. How bad is it?
Megamind worked his jaw. Admitting weakness went against everything he stood for, but
anything was better than getting pulled back to Psycho Delic. Im figuring out how to sneak
away while youre asleep, he muttered. And calculating how quickly I can short-circuit your
robot suit so you cant follow. He looked away, feeling irrational anger at having to admit it.
Minion nodded solemnly. We do it now, Sir.
They decided to stay in the new lair for the duration of the detox, despite the meager
accommodations, rather than go back to Uncle Harrys and risk getting interrupted by him. Minion
left his robot body blocking the door, to activate it if worst came to worse and Megamind
attempted to flee.
Megamind wrapped himself in the only blanket and sat in the corner, holding Minion on his raised
knees. What if this doesnt work?
Then we can try pumping you full of drugs.
Hmph. As long as theres something to fall back on.
They locked gazes, and waited.
--------Time passed.
Megamind understood what Minion meant when he said the bond was sludgy. Now that he was
forced to sit still and pay attention, along with the itchy feelings in his chest and head, there was an
unpleasant sensation of being coated with a thin layer of grime.
The bond had been a part of him for so long hed taken no notice of it. He had no need to, before.
This is boring, Megamind muttered. It wasnt really. It was just so quiet. He didnt know why
he said it. Maybe because the craving was stronger now, making him want to fidget.

he said it. Maybe because the craving was stronger now, making him want to fidget.
{Hush, Amlin. Youre fine,} Minion murmured.
For some reason the Ahrini words drew him into another layer of quiet. The nasty itching behind
his eyes grew more urgent, then subsided, then surged back again, goading him to move, to do
something, anything, to stop it. Find Psycho Delic, and the discomfort would go away.
He sweated and trembled, but Minions eyes anchored him where he was. He clung to Minions
presence like a swimmer in rough seas clings to a rock.
Outside, the city went on about its business. Traffic flowed. A car without a muffler roared past.
Tires squealed and a horn blared as a driver leaned on it.
Megamind heard it all in a distant sort of way, but he and Minion were in another world. He had
to blink, and sometimes there was pain that he closed his eyes against, but whenever he opened
them again, Minion was there, gazing steadily and solemnly at him, the benefit of a watery habitat.
When he grew too tired to even sit up he curled up on the floor, nestling his head on his arm, and
settled the containment unit close so he could lean his head against it. With weary amusement he
noticed Minion turn sideways too so that theyd maintain eye contact.
{Very thoughtful, Niri,} he murmured.
Minion smiled.
It was the quietest detox in history.
----------Megamind opened his eyes. Sunlight leaked in around the boarded up window. His forehead lay
against the containment unit. Minion slept.
Megamind lay still, taking in the details of the wooden floorboards, which Minion had scrubbed
clean of dirt and ancient pigeon droppings. He rubbed his eyes. They felt gritty and dry.
How are you feeling, Sir? Minion peered at him. Across the room, the robot body moved
slightly as Minion reactivated it.
Megamind took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The sludgy, grimy feeling was gone. He felt
ordinary. He never realized how good it felt to feel ordinary. You tell me, he said, grinning.
Minion peered into his eyes, and a toothy smile stretched across his face. Looks good, Sir. All
clear.
Oh I wouldnt say good, Minion, Megamind said. In fact, Im feeling particularly ee-vil
today. Hopping to his feet, he put Minion back atop his robot suit. Lets ruin some lives! he
said, sitting at the computer station.
---------Agent Corbin waved the transcript at Agent Finney. Who the hell is Uncle Harry, and why isnt
he on my list?
Your guess is as good as mine, Finney said, adjusting his glasses.
Youre sure thats what Minion said? Let me hear the tape.

We use digital sound files now, Agent Corbin. Theyre...

Does it look like I care? Whatever its called, let me hear the recording.
Minions voice floated into the office, crackly and muffled, but unmistakable. What am I
supposed to do now? I cant take him back to Uncle Harrys like this. Hell still be all crazy once
hes re-hydrated.
You can come with us, Curly said. We got a place. Its quiet...
All right, Ive heard enough, Corbin said. Bring John Parker in for questioning.

Rev-ahnge
Chapter Notes

"I see...swift hounds on the scent, and my enemy flying for his life." -Richard
Adams, "Watership Down"

Vic Spinelli was picked up for shoplifting. He claimed to be one of Megaminds uncles, and
dropped broad hints that he might remember where a certain alien fugitive could be hiding.
Only he wasnt totally sure. Getting arrested was so upsetting it was really messing with his head,
though his memory could get better, maybe, if, say, there was a lesser charge where he wouldnt
get penalized for violating parole, or maybe a dismissal of the charges altogether? The arresting
officers rolled their eyes, but passed on the message to Inspector Buford.
----When Corbin strolled into the interrogation room, he was pleased to see that the wardens hands
were clenched into fists on the table. The real interrogation room, where they brought in regular
citizens for questioning, not the other room with the drain in the floor.
This is the grossest form of harrasment, Parker said, voice low with the effort of containing his
anger. You will be hearing from my lawyer.
Agent Bates put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall for the look of the thing.
Corbin swung the other chair around and straddled it, resting his forearms on the back. Ill bet I
will. Though I dont think her reports to the Scotts are going to make you look too favorable. You
think theyre going to want to keep footing the bill?
Parkers eyes moved slightly in their sockets before returning to glare at Corbin. That has nothing
to do with this situation.
Corbin cocked his head. Really? Dont you ever wonder why the Scotts keep paying for little
Blues upkeep? I sure as hell do. He studied Parker. Or maybe you do know. Or think you do.
A flicker of some unnamable emotion passed across the wardens face.
A little charity out of the goodness of their hearts? said Corbin. Or maybe Lord Scott expects
to get some return on his investment.

You have me dragged all the way over here to ask me about Blues fund?
Corbin shrugged. Im just sayin, you may not be allowed to be the freaks guardian anymore,
since youve done everything you can to insure that he wont be caught. Obstructing our
investigation from the start. Lying, hiding evidence.
Thats a load of crap. I told you everything Ive told the police.
The last time my agents came to your house you slammed the door on them.
Because I had no new information, Parker snapped. And I didnt feel like talking with anyone
from DPI. Not with crooked feds who get their kicks beating up suspects.
Careful, warden. I ought to sue you for slander. He knew that Parker had no hard evidence. The
tape from the parking garage on the night of Megaminds arrest was safely in DPIs possession,
and Corbin planned to keep it that way. He pulled out a sheet and pushed it across the table. All
of Megaminds uncles who are on parole. Or so you said. This is the list you gave me?
Yes, that looks right.
There a reason why Harry Chambers isnt on here?
Parker looked startled. His face went slack as slumped back in the chair. Ohhh, he breathed out
in a sigh and rubbed his hand over his mouth. That was a mistake.
Yeah. And you made it.
This is the same list I gave to the police when Blue first broke out back in January. At the time
those were all of his parolee uncles. Parker tapped on the paper with an index finger. It wasnt
updated. Harry got parole just a few weeks ago. I just didnt think of...
I think I can see whats going on here, Corbin interrupted. Youre pretty fond of that little blue
boy, arent you? I saw the photo on your desk. Probably gives you a warm, fuzzy feeling inside,
knowing hes out and about, running free for the first time in his life. You knew all along who
hed go to if he ever got in real trouble.
Parker took a deep breath. I dont know what kind of bullshit case you think youre building
against me, but its not going to hold up.
Corbin smiled. I havent found out how you and Megamind have been communicating, but I
will. Even if I have to make something up.

Harry Chambers was an oversight. You cant seriously expect anyone to believe that I knew
where Blue was!
You knew he was using the Kum n Go gas station as a hangout. I have a witness to prove it. It
was a real pleasure watching Parker freeze up. John Parker, Im placing you under arrest on
charges of endeavoring to obstruct justice. You can let him have his phone call now, Corbin said
to Bates. Turning back to Parker he lifted his eyebrows. Maybe youll give Tolliver a call? If the
Scotts will let you use their lawyer anymore, that is.
Corbin left the room. Hed bury Parker in the courts. The warden would be so swamped with his
own legal battles he wouldnt have any energy left over to fight for the rights of the blue boy.
----------Nice to have you aboard, Corbin said to his two new supers and their handlers. At ease,
Grinder. Youre not in the army anymore.
Yes sir! the big man barked, making the room shake. Corbin winced. Grinder cleared his throat
and tried to relax. Sorry, sir. Ill try, he said in a voice moderately less booming.
Volt snorted. Hey, it beats Grenville. Grenville was a new prison exclusively for criminal
supers. He fidgeted, scratching under the inhibitor collar, which was leaving a rash.
You meet Psycho Delic, guys? Corbin waved his arm. He can show you the ropes.
The two supers glanced at the purple man slouched against the wall under the No Smoking sign,
tapping cigarrette ash on the carpet.
Um...hey, Grinder said, lifting his hand.
Psycho Delic stared at him, eyes glowing through the cigarrette haze, until Grinder shuffled back a
few extra paces, trying to slip behind the agent who was his handler.
Chill out, man, the agent grumbled. For a guy with super strength and semi-invulnerability,
Grinder was amazingly meek. A product of the defunct Super Soldiers Project, he was maybe a
little too good at following orders. He practically had to be told how to eat.
Corbin raised his voice to address the room. Listen up, people. Weve got eyes and ears on the
flophouse, as soon as theres confirmation the targets are on the premesis, we move in. I want
them alive. Volt, light up the apartment, thatll take out Megamind. Grinder, you disable Minion.
But if hes too much trouble, take him down. Aim for the head, he said, talking to everyone at
large. Thats where hes most vulnerable.

An agent asked, How much trouble is too much?

Ill decide that when the time comes.
He went into his office and shut the door. They were still waiting on the search warrant, but if the
suspects were sighted, they wouldnt need it anyway.
Noticing the slight shaking in his hands, he took the flask out of the bottom drawer and took a
cautious swig, just enough to stop the trembling. He was so very close. The little freak had run out
of places to hide.
The computer monitor on his desk turned on with a crackle of static.
Megamind appeared on the screen. The picture showed him from the chest up, wearing a black
long-sleeved shirt with a popped collar, seated in a low-backed swivel chair. His black-gloved
fingers steepled in front of him, an evil smile on his thin face, he oozed smug confidence. The
edge of Minions robot arm was visible on the side. One eyebrow lifted on the blue forehead.
Drinking on the job? And its not even one oclock. Tsk, tsk. He clucked his tongue and shook
his head.
Very carefully, Corbin put the flask away as he examined the screen and the grinning Megamind.
Black fabric hung behind Megaminds chair, obliterating all features of the room. As soon as this
ridiculous meeting was over with, Corbin would check with his agents. Megamind could be at
Harry Chamberss place right now. Possibly hed been there since before they began the stakeout.
Megamind leaned closer to the screen, brows wrinkling in mock concern. Oooo, those are some
nasty scars youve got there. Minion, take a look at your handiwork. Very impressive.
Minions face appeared as he leaned down. Yeah, I guess I got im pretty good, Sir.
Just for that, youve both earned yourselves another hour of pain, one for every tooth mark. So
whats the occasion? Corbin said. Come to brag?
Megamind waved his hands before steepling them again. Oh no, no, no. Just thought Id check in
with my favorite sadist, chew the fat, shoot the breeze, He tilted his head. And, actually, there is
something of importance Id like to discuss with you.
Corbin shrugged and leaned back. This should be interesting.
Megamind rubbed his hands together. The thing is, Ed...mind if I call you Ed? Agent Corbin is
so formal. The thing is, Ed, Im woefully short of cash. With your merry men hounding me, not to
mention the constabulary, and what with having to duck and cover every time a pidge-ee-on flies
overhead, well, I barely have room to move. You want access to my amazing intellect, yes?

He must be recording the conversation. Trying to get me to say something incriminating. Not
gonna work, blue boy. I want to see justice served.
Megamind chuckled, unconcerned that hed failed to get Corbin to damn himself with his own
words. Dont we all. So, I have a compromise. What say I accept a few assignments from you on
sort of a freelance basis? I keep my freedom, generate a bit of income and some breathing room,
and you get the benefits of my fantastic thought processes.
Corbins mouth fell open slightly. You... want... to work for me, he said slowly. I find that
hard to believe.
Why? I hold no grudges. Im willing to overlook our philosophical differences if you are.
Corbin snorted. Philosophical...? What a... a child. He really does have more guts than brains.
This arrogant kid thinks he can negotiate with me.
What do you want, an internship?
Megamind laughed heartily. Ha ha ha ha! And they say you have no sense of humor. Thats a
good one, Ed. I was thinking of something more remote. Because I dont think I would do well if
we were in the same room together. I might find it impossible to leave.
Corbin put his elbows on the desk and laced his fingers together. So, I would contact you via a
third party or a messaging service, and give you assignments at a neutral drop site?
Ah, I can see you are a shrewd one! Megamind said, wagging his finger at the screen.
Something along those lines, yes. Im sure we can hammer out these sticky details as we go
along. Oh. Is it starting already? He looked off to the side. Excuse me, Ed, Im monitoring
several different screens.
Yeah, looks that way, Sir, said Minion.
So quick! Agent Jacksons got a real chip on her shoulder, doesnt she?
Corbin stiffened. Dena Jackson?
Yes, of Internal Affairs.
Corbins hand twitched. What the hell is going on? The little bastard had lied when he said the
chat was private. He made himself relax. He knew he hadnt said anything that hinted at his
misdeeds.

Megamind pulled a sad face and placed a hand on his chest. I feel just terrible about this Ed, just
terrible, but my little talk was just a distraction, really. Imagine, me volunteering to work for you.
Leaning back in his chair he gave Corbin a slow, evil grin. Do you remember when I told you
that if you laid a finger on Minion I would spend the rest of my life inventing new ways of giving
you pain? he said quietly. And you gave a big laugh and all your jerk-off cronies laughed, and
you said... Megaminds voice got deeper and mockingly officious, Was that a threat? Heres a
tip, little boy...
Get on with it, Corbin snapped. If Megamind was recording this, did he really think his
recitation would sway anyone? It was his word against Corbins.
Megamind held up his hand. Now, now, be patient. You laid that finger on him, Ed, and I cant
overlook that. Youll be glad to hear that I have taken your advice, and come up with a way to
deliver. Theres all kinds of pain, Ed. I wanted to be here to see your face when I tell you the
news.
He took a deep breath. I got into your system, Ed. Sent loads of evidence off to...ohhh...just
about everybody. Internal Affairs, the CIA, FBI, the Attorney General, a bunch of senators and
congresspeople, especially the ones who just love to dive right in to human rights abuses. Looks
like Agent Jackson is right on top of things. Shes... he peered offscreen, ...issued a warrant for
your arrest, and ordered the shutting down of all DPI offices across the country for auditing and
inspection! Oh my evil goodness, thats more than I expected, you must have really ticked her
off.
Corbin felt his chest constrict. You little-! You bastard! YOU... Leaping to his feet he ran to the
filing cabinet with the passwords for the bank accounts.
Megaminds voice floated into the room as Corbin flung files onto the floor. They know about
your double life as Shadow, too, by the way. Thats the trouble with secret identities, people are
always stumbling across them. Theyre coming for you, Ed. Better hurry!
Corbin jumped as a drum beat blasted from the computers speaker, the start of Queens Another
One Bites the Dust. Sweating, he got his hands on the right file and shoved it under his arm.
Running over to the desk he delivered a roundhouse kick that sent the computer crashing to the
floor. Megaminds chuckling face disappeared as the screen went black, but the damn music
didnt stop.
He charged out of the office, pursued by the voice of Freddie Mercury singing ...are you ready,
hey, are you ready for this, are you hangin on the edge of your seat...
Ignoring the startled faces of the other agents he went over to Volt and Grinder. Got a new
assignment. Were about to get attacked.
A confused murmur rose in the room. Attacked? By who? Whats he talking about?
Grinder was immediately on board. Yes sir! he roared, and flexed his muscles. His shirt, which
was under tremendous strain anyway, burst its seams. Volt raised his hands, electricity sparking
around him, then cast a confused look at his handler.

The agent glanced around. Wait a minute. Whats going on? Bates?
Bates got in Corbins path. What the hell, man?
Corbin gave a quick shake of his head. Theyre on to us, he said, and hurried out to the hallway,
gesturing at the supers to follow. If Bates was too stupid to figure it out, he deserved what he got.
Lyrics mocked him. Another one bites the dust...another one bites the dust...
Somebody turn that off! he shouted, pointing back at his office. Out of the corner of his eye he
saw Bates race to his desk. Going for his ticket. Guess hes not too stupid.
Puzzled and alarmed looks followed Corbin as he strode between the desks. A few of the more
crooked agents quickly guessed that their world was about to collapse around their ears and got
ready for a hasty departure. In a few seconds it would be pandemonium.
Corbin stepped into the hall, wondering if theyd closed off the building yet.
A group of FBI agents came out of the elevator and strode purposefully toward him.
Already!
Grinder! Volt! he bellowed. Attack!
Grinder, who hadnt quite gotten through the door, slammed his big arms against the frame,
sending glass and plaster across the floor, followed by his thoroughly confused handler. Corbin
knew what the agents were thinking: they had to follow a direct order from him, their director,
but... against FBI agents?
Grinder howled, slapped his own head to psych up, and charged. The FBI scattered like bowling
pins. Two FBI agents opened fire. Bullets ricocheted off Grinders thick hide, though a few got
implanted halfway in at his chest and one wedged in his forehead like a metallic third eye.
Volt and his agent handler were hanging back, bewildered, and then Volt got hit by a ricochet,
though Corbin didnt see where. He was too busy racing for the exit. Volt fell against the wall
with a shriek, electricity shooting out of his fingertips. The hall filled with lightning and screams,
the florescent lights exploded, and it all went dark.
-------

When Megamind schemed to recover Minions robot suit, his attack on the Federal Buildings
central computer system was neat and specific, locking all electronic doors and cutting power, but
leaving their other systems untouched.
Volts wild discharge traveled through the walls and sawed through the network with all the
precision of an eight-armed axe murderer. DPIs security system was the first to bite the dust.
------All the cell doors popped open, leaving the warden with the option of worsening his situation by
becoming a fugitive.
The lights shorted out. Not even emergency lights clicked on. Parker made his way to the opening
by feel and poked his head out. Hello? he said cautiously into the dark. There was no reply, but
he could hear a lot of muffled shouting from somewhere.
Parker made his way back to the cot and sat down. All things considered, a cell seemed like the
best place to be.
-------Psycho Delic looked up at the lights when the power went out. Hed slipped down to the first
floor lobby to get a bag of chips from the vending machine, and to see if Gloria was on duty at the
front desk. He liked watching Gloria. She blushed so prettily.
Gloria was indeed on duty, but the vending machine had eaten his change, and now the power
was out. His glowing red eyes were reflected back at him from the plastic front. And only his
eyes.
Frowning, he moved the collar around. Had it gotten twisted, was that why...
He hissed in a breath through his teeth, pulse quickening. The power inhibiting collar was
completely black. The little row of green lights were off.
No fucking way, he whispered. He took another deep breath, and raised his arms.
A wave of fierce joy surged through him as his power ignited. Exhaling, he sent his smoke out in
an expanding wave throughout the lobby and down the hall.
YES! He stre-e-e-tched...It had been so long since he was at full strength. So long...
There were chokes, sobs, and hysterical laughter from the shmucks around the place as his purple
haze engulfed them, and the thought of Gloria flitted through his head, but there was no time for
that. Psycho Delic ran toward the parking garage.

Tools, I need tools! He had to get the collar off before Ross discovered he was missing and they
fixed the power.
-------Corbin raced down the stairs three at a time. The glow at the bottom of the stairwell showed that
the door to the parking garage was propped open.
He was in a tremendous hurry, but still he was brought up short by the man lying in the doorway,
his legs keeping the door from closing all the way. Corbin recognized him as one of the
maintenance men. A grey toolbox lay open on its side. Hammers, drill bits, and wire cutters were
scattered everywhere. Had he fallen?
Didnt matter. He ran down the last steps to step over him, and walked through a smoke cloud.
What the hell? Flapping his hand to clear it away, he hurried on, forcing his weary legs into a jog
to the car. Coughing, he made his way through the darkened garage. There was just enough
outside light to see the shapes of the cars. He wondered if a fire had started somehow, maybe Volt
had...
The sickly taste of fruit covered in tar coated his tongue and his knees went numb.
Oh shit. No wonder his legs felt so heavy.
Footsteps sounded behind him, slow and deliberate. He had a bad feeling he knew who it was and
groped for his gun but it slipped from his nerveless fingers, falling with a clatter.
Gathering his fading strength, he whirled, raising his fist for a blow that would take off Psycho
Delics head, but his arm was a leaden weight that flopped around and dragged him down. To the
surprise of his bewildered brain, Psycho Delic was still over ten feet away. Glowing red eyes
fixed on him.
Sense of timing. Bad, he mumbled, then wondered why he even bothered saying it out loud.
He blinked and suddenly Psycho Delic was right next to him, kicking the gun away. Psycho Delic
chuckled. Oh, you dont want to do that. Why doncha take a seat?
The words echoed in his throbbing head. Rainbow lights of purple and pink spun in his peripheral
vision. Legs folding, he slid down the side of a car. Squinting, he tried to focus on the man
looming over him but looking up made him dizzy.

Psycho Delic tilted his hat back with his thumb as he leaned over to look in Corbins face.
Wanna know something, Corbin? he whispered. I dont like you. Hope you liked your brain
while it lasted.
Smoke billowed.
-------Grinder was knocked out by one of Volts blasts. Volt stopped electrocuting everything so he
could put his hands over his leg to try to keep from bleeding to death. His handler helped him get
the wound under control.
A number of agents on both sides had been shocked into unconsciousness. The FBI agents who
could still walk arrested everyone in the DPI office. They decided they would figure out who was
guilty of what later.
DPI Agent Ross was spared immediate arrest and he was allowed to lead the increasingly
desperate search for Psycho Delic.
Ross took one look at the lobby, where half a dozen people shuffled and wheezed and shrieked,
purple haze drifting around their knees. He ducked back into the stairwell.
Call for medics, he snapped at the FBI agents. Tell them to wear hazmat suits, or at least gas
masks.
The air vents were out along with the power so the smoke would take a while to clear. Psycho
Delics smoke grew weaker over time, but it was better not to take chances.
The FBI didnt argue when Ross hurried down the stairwell. At the sight of the haze showing up
in the light at the bottom, they hung back, but Ross plowed ahead. Hed glimpsed the man lying in
the doorway. Taking off his jacket he whipped it at the smoke, beating it away from his path, and
covered his mouth with his gun arm. If he started seeing tentacled three-eyed hamsters chewing on
his elbows, he could detoxify later.
To his relief the maintenance man appeared to be just unconscious. The man was whistling
through his nose. Ross stepped cautiously into the parking garage. The smoke had thinned out a
great deal here, from the outside air blowing in.
Come on, its not that bad! I need assistance! he shouted up the stairwell. Without waiting for
them, he dropped the jacket and moved past the cars, hands sweating, gun at the ready.
He turned in all directions as he walked, looking into the shadows, and found Corbin slumped
against a car, his head bowed and chin pressed into his chest so Ross couldnt see his face.

A power-inhibiting collar lay nearby, snipped in half. Wire cutters lay next to it.
Ross didnt stop to assist; recapturing Psycho Delic was imperative. He walked quickly around the
garage, all the way out to the street, but Psycho Delic was gone.
Ross trudged back.
A few of the FBI had gathered their courage and were coming along with their guns ready. Ross
shook his head at them.
He glanced at the wire cutters and the small dark stain on them. Blood? But there wasnt any
blood on Corbins clothes. Bracing himself, Ross tilted up Corbins chin.
There werent any new, horrible wounds, thank God, but the drooling mouth that opened and
closed like a birds beak and the staring eyes were almost as ghastly. Psycho Delic must have cut
himself getting the collar off, and been in too much of a hurry to get inventive.
Ross slumped against another car. It occurred to him, briefly, that he could have just run, when the
FBI had hung back at the stairs, but he had no where to go anyway.
A psychotic super was on the loose, and the burden of guilt weighed down his shoulders. He
made no protest when they slapped the cuffs on him.
-------Mrs. Tolliver had a few quiet words with the local FBI director Mr. Lewis, who was struggling to
sort out the tremendous howling mess that had landed in his lap, and charges against the warden
were dropped.
I cant thank you enough, Mrs. Tolliver, Parker said, tugging on his tie as they walked down the
steps of the Federal Building.
Its my job, Mr. Parker, she said.
He glanced at her. Mrs. Tolliver tended to be professionally standoffish, but there was an extra
coolness about her today, as if she were distancing herself.
The fleet of ambulances converging on the Federal Building had drawn every news crew in town.
Parker and Tolliver brushed aside a couple of reporters' attempts to interview them. Parker caught
a glimpse of Robert Chang, who'd interviewed him briefly the morning Blue escaped Corbin's
custody, but he was in the middle of making a broadcast and didn't see them.

Eventually they got clear of the reporters, cameramen, medics, and stretchers.
They walked across the sunny parking lot. An ambulance screamed out into the street.
Mr. Parker, she said, looking straight ahead. Have you had prior knowledge of Blues
location?
Parker walked three more steps before answering. Just the gas station hang out. Nothing more.
There's one more place I only recently found out about, one more person to check. I'll give the
inspector a call when I get home." Of course he wasn't sure, but they'd have to investigate.
Mrs. Tolliver slowed to a stop. Lord Scott has concerns that you may not be the ideal guardian.
That your objectivity is not what it should be.
Im going to adopt them, he said.
Her mouth fell open slightly and her eyebrows went up a whole quarter of an inch. It was the most
shocked hed ever seen her get. I would advise against it, she said.
Oh, so his lordship doesnt approve? Parker said sharply.
She took a deep breath. The only reason I am here is because of Lord Scotts desire to avoid a
scandal. He is not happy with your... handling of the situation. Its also possible that you will no
longer be allowed to access the legal services of my office.
He sighed and looked around the lot. In the distance a couple of seagulls strolled around a spilled
bag of french fries. Hes trying to get himself named legal guardian, isnt he?
I am not at liberty to discuss Lord Scotts activities, she said, not without sympathy. She dug in
her purse, muttering under her breath. After impatiently shoving aside several items, she pulled out
a business card. Neville Strunk. Excitible, just became a partner, but he does a decent job. Lives
in Huffton, unfortunately, so its a bit of a commute, but he does pro bono. Im reasonably sure
hes got room in his schedule for you.
-----------The disturbing news about one of our nations most secretive agencies continues to unfold, said
the anchorwoman on the television, a concerned crease between her perfect brows.
Megamind propped his feet on the table. How about some of that caramel popp-ed corn?
Here ya go, Sir, said Minion, handing over the bag.

The anchorwoman said, As many as half of the employees of the Department of Paranormal
Investigations are believed to have been involved in criminal activities ranging from theft, to
dealing drugs and human trafficking.
And alien trafficking, said Minion.
Attempted alien trafficking, said Megamind with a grin, still chewing. But they failed
miserabley. Hey, catch! He flicked a piece of popcorn up in a high arc and Minion stuck his head
out to snatch it out of the air.
Lets check in with Robert Chang, on site at the Federal Building in downtown Metro City.
Robert, what more can you tell us about these unusual events? Has everyone from DPI been
arrested?
The picture shifted to the reporters equally grave face. Thats what weve been hearing, but the
FBI isnt saying much. A number of people have been taken to area hospitals, most of them
suffering from blunt force trauma, bullet wounds, electrocutions, and hallucinations, the victims of
multiple super-powered attacks. Apparently, DPI employed several criminals with unique...
Megamind wrinkled his nose. He thumbed the remote, switching channels until he found another
news broadcast. Channel 11 was showing an older photo of Corbin, unscarred. ...the director of
the local DPI office, suffered what appears to be a drug overdose while bravely attempting to
recapture an escaped...
Bravely attempting! Megamind cried. Ran into Psycho Delic when he was trying to scuttle
under a rock, more likely! Fools! How do they come up with these stories? Did they grab a bunch
of half-baked rumors, throw them at the wall, and see what...
Sii-i-ir, Minion complained, leaning forward and turning up the volume. I cant hear what
theyre saying.
...substantial damage to his brain tissue, leaving him in a catatonic state, from what doctors say is
exposure to a hallucinogenic compound fifty times more powerful than LSD, said the Channel
11 anchorman. Any word on the other victims?
Bill, the seven others who got dosed apparently received a less concentrated amount. They all
appear to be conscious, and coherent. Doctors are keeping them at the hospital for observation.
A photo of Psycho Delic appeared. The super-powered felon believed responsible for at least
some of the carnage is on the loose. James Yaeger is highly unstable and both the police and the
FBI are...

Megamind switched to another channel, where they were re-hasing events. He picked at the
caramel corn and put a couple of pieces in his mouth, but really he didnt feel very hungry
anymore. He cast a sideways look at Minion, who had grown quiet, his fins barely stirring.
Well, that just about takes all the fun out of it, he muttered, swallowing the barely tasted snack.
Innocent people had gotten hurt, and the streets of Metrocity had gotten more dangerous. He bit
his lip, pushing the swivel chair back and forth.
Its nothing to be upset about, Minion, he said curtly.
Well...I didnt actually say any...
Corbin had it coming. And hes off our backs.
Right. Thats the important thing, Sir.
Yes. Exactly my point, Minion. He reached over and snagged the cheesy chips. I cant be
expected to control every possible contingency. Not my fault.
As long as he kept telling himself that, hed believe it.
Eventually, the anchors turned to the political reactions on the DPI scandal. Watching the
righteous indignation of the politicians proved entertaining, but not one, not one reporter even
brought up the matter about how the truth about DPI had gotten leaked in the first place.
Youd think at least one of these so-called journalists would ask, he grumbled. A little credit
would be nice.
Minion shrugged and sprinkled some fish flakes into the containment unit. At least we know.
Besides, were the bad guys, right?
Megamind snorted. True enough. I wouldnt want to get labelled as some kind of vigilante hero.
Who needs that? Yawning, he stretched out his back. Lets go see what Uncle Harrys been up
to. That sofas better than the floor.

Cornered
Chapter Notes

"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be
in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn that was fun!'" -Groucho Marx

A loan shark? Megamind cried. Uncle Harry, if you needed money, why didnt you ask me?
Harry picked at his chow mein. Didnt know where you were, he muttered. He looked up. I
had to act fast. It was a good tip, too, a great tip! he said, voice rising desperately. I coulda paid
him back the same day. But that horse... His voice trailed away and his gaze dropped to the
styrofoam container again. Mustve been having a bad day. It was sick or something.
Megamind shared an exasperated look with Minion. Which loan shark? Minion asked.
The chair squeaked as Harry shifted his weight. Franzetti.
Megaminds eyebrows shot up. Julian Drive By Franzetti? Uncle Harry, hes the reason Uncle
Pat had to get a new knee! How much did you borrow?
Harry waved his hand in a dismissive way. Only a hundred.
Megamind heaved out a breath. Oh, is that all? he said, glancing at Minion again, with a look
that said they could easily take care of this little matter. What were the terms?
Harry poked at the food for a while before answering. Twenty-five per cent of the winnings.
And that would have been...? Megamind prompted, making a circling motion with his hand.
Harry sighed. Five thousand.
What? Minion cried. Aw, Uncle Harry, thats... that means you owe...
One thousand two hundred and fifty dollars, Megamind said grimly.
Harry frowned. You boys dont need to worry about it. I get paid Friday. Ill take care of it.
With WHAT? Megamind wanted to shout. What about your rent? You have a nice cardboard box
to move into next? What happened to that five hundred I gave you before I left? I cant believe you
risked your kneecaps for a measly hundred bucks at a cut-throat terms on a nag that probably
couldnt stagger out of the gate if you set its tail on fire. But of course he couldnt say those things
to Uncle Harry, who was chewing mournfully on takeout food.
On the TV, True Grit played. John Wayne snapped, If I ever meet one of you Texas waddies
who aint drunk water from a hoofprint, I think Ill shake their hand or buy em a Daniel Webster
cigar.
With a sigh Megamind fell back onto the couch and rubbed his eyes. Well, he would pay it off,
whether Uncle Harry liked it or not. Later he and Minion would knock over a couple of gas
stations, find out where Drive By Franzetti did business, and pay off that sorry excuse of a

gangster.
There were footsteps out in the hallway. He couldnt have said exactly why the back of his neck
tingled, but he lifted his head.
There was a knock at the door. Heavy and official sounding.
He sat up, muscles tensing. This is the police. Open up.
Swiftly and silently, head buzzing, he darted across the room to grab the de-gun in its holster.
Glancing around the apartment, his heart sank at the sight of the pest control devices, the pirated
cable box, the three laptops and miniature video cam, the stolen boombox hed collected one
evening, the duffel bag with his clothes. Hed left his mark all over the place.
He looked at Uncle Harry, who sat frozen in his chair, watery eyes wide. Uncle Harry belonged
to what Megamind thought of as, if he were feeling polite, the older generation who couldnt
operate a simple video phone to save their lives. Uncle Harry may have been an embezzler and a
whiz with a numbers, but he was also scrupulously honest in his own way, at least when
confronted with the facts. There was no way Uncle Harry would be able to pretend that all this
electronic equipment was his.
There was only one possible way to get him out of this predicament. With a grimace, Megamind
mouthed sorry and dehydrated him.
Minion, who had been attempting to stuff more clothes into the duffel bag, whirled in surprise.
Megamind, who had half expected the cops to break down the door at the sound of the de-gun
firing was already dashing for the bathroom fire escape, but fortunately the television covered the
sound of it.
Another louder, more impatient knock sounded as he yanked at the window. It went up about
three inches, and got stuck.
Open up, police!
Minion put his arms around him and wrenched the window open with a screeching of wood.
Megamind leaped onto the fire escape. It would take Minion several seconds to squeeze his big
shoulders through, so he would shoot the frame around it to make the opening bigger. He felt a
flicker of guilt about wrecking Harrys chance of getting his security deposit back.
Freeze!
Megamind froze.
Four cops were in the alley below. Four gun barrels stared up at him. They got the drop on him.
Hed always wondered about that phrase. Well, he felt well and truly dropped, as his heart felt like
it had dropped into his stomach.
Hands up! Drop your weapon!
Megamind, feeling like targets had sprung up all over him, let the de-gun dangle from one finger
before letting it fall.
The apartment door crashed open. Freeze! Hands up!
Already did, Megamind grumbled.

The incoming cops ordered them out of the cramped bathroom and they shuffled out. There was
hardly any more room in the rest of the apartment with all the cops milling around. Megamind
recognized the fat one in plain clothes, the inspector who had given him into Corbins custody.
You gave us a pretty good run, son, said Inspector Buford. Its over now.
Whatever you say, Megamind said. A diabolical smirk would have been appropriate at this
point, but he couldnt quite manage it.
They frisked and cuffed him, after which there was a discussion about what to do with Minion.
Two officers kept their guns trained on the containment unit. We cant cuff him, can we? one of
them said. Hed just break em.
Maybe we can pop the fish bowl off. Howd you guys get it off before? When Metro Man pulled
him out of the sewer? asked a cop wearing latex gloves, pulling aside the sofa cushions. He
found Corbins gun and lifted it to show the inspector.
Two others were sifting through Harrys boxes while others poked in the cupboards.
I think those feds did it.
Anybody see how?
The officers exchanged looks. One of the cops holding a gun on Minion looked much too jumpy
for Megaminds comfort. Every time Minion moved a fin, the cop adjusted his grip and rocked
from side to side as if he were getting ready to dodge.
Minion, his hands against the ceiling, turned slightly in his bowl. Its easy to unlock, he said.
Theres a groove here, he nodded down at the robotic neckline. With a lever.
Im not reachin in there, snapped the trigger-happy cop.
Megamind cleared his throat. If you free my hands, I will remove him from the robot suit.
The cop shot him a glare. Yeah, right! Youll probably give him a secret code or somethin. Set
off a self-destruct button or somethin.
Some people watched too many sci-fi movies. Megamind had never understood the nihilistic
tendencies of sci-fi villains to stick self-destruct buttons on everything. Im not going to blow him
up, or myself for that matter. That would be counterproductive. Its a simple matter to disconnect
the containment unit. Will you let me, Inspector?
Inspector Buford nodded and one cuff was unlocked so his hands were free. One cop kept a gun
pressed into Megaminds back as he walked over to Minion. Id appreciate it if youd keep it a
little further away, Megamind said. Its a little hard to concentrate when I have to worry about
getting blown away if you trip.
Back off, Buford told the officer. Hes not going anywhere.
Megamind reached up, the handcuffs dangling from his wrist, very cautiously so as not to cause
alarm. Reaching into the groove, he held down the lever while depressing the release button. The
containment unit came loose with a dull thunk. Immediately the tip of a gun pressed into his back
again. Its just the locking mechanism disconnecting, he said, hands on the containment unit to
keep it from falling.
Give the fish to Officer Hume, said Inspector Buford.

Megamind lifted Minion down. {Have any more hidden suprises?} he murmured in Ahrini.
Minions spines drooped. {Sorry, didnt have time.}
The gun jabbed Megamind. No talking! the cop snapped.
The cop tucked Minion into the crook of his arm, rather carelessly, Megamind thought.
The robotic arms drifted down and the suit became still. The cops finally relaxed enough to put
their guns away. Clearly they hadnt gotten word that Minion could control the robot body from a
short distance. Megamind toyed with the idea of telling Minion to use the robot suit to punch the
trigger-happy cop, but that would really be asking for it.
Whats this? Buford asked, prodding the blue cube with his toe.
The renter, Megamind said. I dehydrated him when I took over the apartment.
Buford regarded him in silence for a moment. Rehydrate him, he said, and picked up a plastic
cup.
Megamind dripped water onto the cube and Harry reappeared.
Are you Harry Chambers? asked the inspector. Harry, confused, nodded.
And were you the victim of a home invasion? Buford asked dryly.
Harry met Megaminds gaze, who gave him a little tilt of the head, waggled his eyebrows slightly,
and attempted to coach Harry into answering in the affirmative, which was difficult to do with so
many officers of the law glaring at them.
Harry looked at the floor and shook his head.
Megamind sniffed. He must be confused. He...
Knock it off, said Buford. We know hes one of your uncles.
They cuffed Harry too, read everyone their rights, and took them away. Minions robot suit was
brought out later on a trolley.
------------Three hours later, the warden came to see his runaway. As he followed an officer down the
echoing halls of the holding cells he thought about what he was going to say. Are you all right?
What were you thinking? Did you really think youd keep out of the hands of the law? Im sorry I
put you in solitary. Ill do better, Blue, I can help you, Ill make sure you get to school, find
employment, have a future that doesnt involve being stuck in a cell the rest of your life. Just
ignore everything that happened the last fifteen years and leave it to me.
Parker sighed. He didnt think he would believe him either, if he were Blue.
They stopped at the cell. Blue was, not surprisingly, wearing a groove in the floor with his pacing,
but he stopped agitating around when he saw the warden. Fidgeting over to one of the walls he
stood with his back to it and wrapped his arms tight around his middle.
Parker looked him over as the officer got the cell open. Blue wore a gray, short-sleeved uniform
from juvenile hall. Parker wondered if he was cold. The boy looked taller than he remembered,

seemed harder, more...

So wheres Minion? The words came out harshly, ending Parkers attempt at reflection.
Sitting on the inspectors desk. Minion was currently wedged between a short stack of files and
a bowling trophy, looking as miserable and defiant as only he could.
Blue sighed and closed his eyes. He jerked his chin at the departing officer. One of them said
they were going to take him to the pound.
Hes fine. I just saw him upstairs. Hell be coming home with me.
Blue dropped onto the cot. So when do I get to go back to your cage?
Parker had lectured himself, repeatedly, to be calm, but he felt his hackles rising. Every time he
thought he could take whatever the kid had to dish out, Blue found another button to push. He
took a deep breath to steady himself. Theres going to be a hearing. To decide what to do with
you.

The boys hand tightened on his upper arm. You mean I might not get to come home? I
thought... He swallowed and licked his lips. Where... where would they send me? Parker
wanted to hug him but he put his hands in his pockets instead. Theres talk of juvenile hall. Here
in Metro City.
The boys worried grimace relaxed slightly. Oh, he said, exhaling. I guess thats not so bad.
He lifted his hand to rub his head and thats when Parker saw the white lines that slashed across
most of his left forearm.
Two quick steps forward and he grabbed Blues arm, seizing him by elbow and wrist. What
happened here? he cried.
Blue drew back, startled. Nothing.
It doesnt look like nothing! Did he cut you?
The boy blinked. Who?
Agent Corbin, damn it, who do you think? Is that why that man is practically in a coma? He hurt
you, so you set Psycho Delic on him?
The boy drew a sharp breath and his eyes widened. I wouldnt go near that sicko if you paid
me! he cried, jerking his arm away. I didnt mean for him to get loose. I only... He stopped and
clamped his mouth shut, looking away.
Parker searched his face. But the DPI leak. That was you, wasnt it?
Blue set his jaw. Stubbornly he glared at some distant point on the far wall, hiding his scarred arm
under the other.
Now Parker wanted to shake him until his teeth rattled. He walked slowly across the small space
to the cell entrance. The prisoner in the cell across the hall lay on his cot, foot waving back and
forth. Down the hall, other prisoners coughed, talked. Guards footsteps echoed, doors clanged
open and shut. Blues shock and revulsion had been genuine. Parker felt some relief at that. He
didnt know why it was so important, but it was. At least the boy hadnt caused a man to literally

lose his mind just for...for rev-ahnge. Not on purpose, anyway. Whatever Blue had done, Parker
was still convinced that hed done it to protect himself.
What did he do to you? he wanted to ask. Those looked like knife cuts to him. Hed heard some
nasty rumors about Corbin, and the switchblade he carried.
Parker looked at Blue, chin held high and glaring at the wall, and despaired of ever finding out the
full story. His heart ached. Blue didnt trust him.
Parker went over and sat next to him. He even dared to put his hand on the boys shoulder. He
expected Blue to shrug him off, but amazingly, he just shot him an angry glance and looked away
again. Youre not alone, son, Parker said quietly. Its not just you and Minion against the
world. You must believe that. I want to help. Things havent been easy, but theyre going to be
different now. Im going to adopt the both of you. You and Minion. Youre part of my family.
Dont think that you have to put on this...
Did the Scotts say it was all right? Blue gave him a cool look.
The words died in Parkers mouth. He took his hand away.
One eyebrow lifted slightly on the high blue forehead. Better check with your meal ticket first, to
make sure they approve.
Parkers heartbeat filled his ears. He knows. All this time, I wanted to protect him. He didnt know
about the Scotts funding his upkeep because I didnt think he needed to know. How would I
possibly put it? That hed been kept in prison because the Scotts wanted him there, and the city
wanted him there because everyone believed he was a danger, and I thought it was the safest
place for him to be? Which, now that he really thought about it, didnt make him sound much
better than the Scotts.
The silence stretched and threatened to solidify into an unbreachable wall. Parker said, I dont see
a penny of that money. Not one red cent. I mail a monthly expense report to the law office and
they take care of it. Theres a fund. Parker searched Blues face, willing him to understand.
Or at least there had been a fund. The Scotts had formally let him know that Blue was a problem
for the taxpayers now, and the fund was suspended. For the moment, it was a little too
complicated to go into all that.
Hed been assured that it was an act of charity on the part of the Scotts, but now he wasnt so sure.
He had a nagging suspicion that Lord Scott had his own ideas about how things ought to go, and
that he might decide to change the rules. Everything came with a price. Parker wondered if the
boy was the one who would pay it. Parker wished hed asked more questions, but at the time that
Lord Scotts attorney paid him a visit to arrange matters all those years ago, it seemed a miracle, a
financial burden taken off his shoulders. The problem was that no matter how cynical Parker was,
he probably hadnt been cynical enough.
The boys face remained shut, locking him out. Parker tried again. There were people trying to
take you away, he said. I didnt dare bring you home. I needed help. The expense of providing
for you was...
His voice trailed away. He was saying it all wrong. If anything, the boys face became even more
closed off, as if another door had slammed shut. The blue lips stretched into a thin smile. I
understand perfectly, warden. It was too expensive. Too much trouble. You neednt worry about
me anymore. Ill be fine.

Didnt you hear what I said? Parker asked. It was difficult to keep his voice calm. Im going to
adopt you. I can take care of both of you better if...
Blue got to his feet. If youre expecting me to fall into your arms weeping with gratitude, then
Im afraid that youll be waiting a very long time. I can take care of myself. And Minion, too. I
dont need you and I never will.
Parker got up. I dont blame you for being angry, Blue. Cant we sit down and talk about this?
Its Megamind, warden. Blue is a name for faithful old hound dogs. He chuckled and shook his
head. Oh, I cant stand to see such a sad face. All right, he said, flinging his hands up in the air.
Go ahead and fill out whatever little scraps of paper you want. It makes no difference to me.
Parker turned away, biting his lip. He struggled to find something else to say, then gave up.
Maybe tomorrow, after the boy had some time to cool off, hed be willing to talk. He hailed the
guard. Ill see you tomorrow at eleven, for the hearing.
Tolliver will be there, too, I suppose? Blue said with a sniff. How is the old battle ax?
I dont know. Shes the Scotts lawyer, and theyve decided not to support us anymore. Ive had
to find another, name of Neville Strunk.
Blues smirk faded slightly. Is this Strunk any good?
Parker studied the boys slightly anxious face. Guess well find out.
As the cell was opened, Blue stepped toward him. Wait. He crossed his arms. Um. Will you
bring Minion? He gave Parker a look that was a strange mixture of pleading and arrogance,
unhappy at having to ask a favor after his big independence speech.
Wow, guess you still need me a little after all, huh? Parker bit back the sarcasm, but he savored the
feeling, just for a second, and felt a little ashamed of himself. It would be mean and petty to rub it
in. Ill try. I dont know if theyll allow him in the courthouse.
Hes not an animal, you know, Blue said, eyes flashing.
Of course I know. The trouble is not everybody does.
----------The next day, the boys evil smile was once again firmly in place, and he made his displeasure at
Parkers failure to bring Minion known. Didnt try all that hard, did you?
As a matter of fact, I did, Parker said. The clerk said Id have to get a special permit and there
wasnt time for the paperwork to go through. Only service animals are allowed in the building.
Damn, he should have said that Minion was one of those companion animals that eased
psychological trauma. It wouldnt have been that far from the truth.
Parker had gotten the silent treatment from Minion about it, too. Minion had wanted to come along
in the car, on the chance that the courthouse would let him in, but Parker was worried theyd
refuse, and then what? Stick him in the trunk?
Hed gotten an aquarium for Minion at home, and it was damned expensive too, getting one big
enough. The containment unit was barely bigger than Minion himself, and without the robot suit
he was so restricted in his movements that Parker wanted him to have a tank big enough in which

hed be able to turn around without bumping his nose. But he didnt want him to be alone at the
house all day, so this morning he brought the little ichthyoid back to the old tank in the prison
office.
Lawyer Strunk had phoned to say hed be a little late, but not to worry, hed get there. Strunk had
been late for his first meeting with Parker, too, which was a worrying trend.
The judge, it turned out, had some very strong opinions about the current situation. And you
decided this was a suitable environment for John? the judge asked. To be raised in a prison
surrounded by hardened criminals?
For a moment Parker couldnt figure out who the judge was talking about, then he remembered
that John was Blues legal name. Well, you see, your honor, there were a number of
extenuating circumstances which...
Yes, Ive read some of your claims, said the judge, placing a pair of horn-rimmed glasses on the
end of his hooked nose. You believed the boy was a target of various groups, including one of
the largest, most respectable pharmaceutical companies in our country, which you seemed to think
wanted to kidnap him. As well as your claim that our own government sent federal agents to steal
him away from you. He peered at the warden over the glasses. Youll have to forgive my
skepticism.
I have witnesses, your honor. The FBI tried to seize custody of him when he was little. Its all
documented. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the boy look at him. Surprised, maybe?
Reconsidering his opinion of me? That would be nice, though Parker wasnt going to hold his
breath. If youll see Miranda Tollivers report on the night that...
Mister Parker, as of this moment there are four files in my chambers relating to this case. Four,
each of them this thick! He held his thumb and forefinger about three inches apart. I dont see
how I can be expected to wade through all of this, the judge grumbled. What about his
education?
Well, that hasnt gone as well as it should, but, your honor, he practically taught himself to read,
said the warden, with a sinking, burning sense of shame that he hadnt tried a little harder to get
some decent schooling for the boy. I think if the right sort of...
And opportunities for socialization? His actions show he has no regard for other peoples
personal space or possessions. The sheer number of crimes that John has committed does not
surprise me in the slightest. If this is your idea of raising a solid citizen, I shudder to think what
would have happened it youd tried to produce a criminal!
Though the judge was asking plenty of questions, he seemed determined to prevent Parker from
fully answering any of them. And what about this robot? Controlled by some kind of mutant
piranha.
Thats Minion, your honor. Hes not a piranha, hes... Helplessly, he looked at Blue.
Hes an Ah-Kho, your judginess. A sentient fish from the planet Ah-Ri, said Blue, clasping his
cuffed hands on the table.
Parker stared at him. First he ever heard of it.
The judge peered at Blue over his spectacles, then looked down at his papers. An Ah-Kho from
Ah-Ri. Of course, he said dryly. Young man, you will address me as your honor, not your
judginess. One troubling aspect of this bizarre case is the fallacy that this boy and the fish came

from a galaxy far, far away.

Not a different galaxy, said Blue. A different solar system.
The judge removed his glasses and leaned over the bench. Tabloid nonsense. Even the boy
himself seems to believe it. Why has there never been an investigation into his true origins?
Parker shook his head. I dont...but...I saw it for myself. The spacepod, it landed right...
And where is this spacepod? Parker sighed. The FBI confiscated it. Or it might even have
been DPI. Parker couldnt remember if DPI had been in existence fifteen years ago. There had
been a large number of black-suited men roaming the prison. He thought he had a report of it
somewhere in his filing cabinet.
Damn that Strunk, where was he?
Again, we return to the conspiracy theory. Inasmuch as I have been able to untangle this mess,
this is what I am left to deal with: an orphan child, origin unknown, who has been hidden from the
world for his entire life, presumably to protect the public, and apparently these fears have not been
unfounded. The judge fixed a scowl on Blue.
The boy gave him a bright smile.
The judges face turned red. Once free, he proceeds to run rampant for several months, creating
fear and havoc in the general populace. Countless muggings at gunpoint, grand theft auto,
carjackings, kidnappings, assaults on officers of the law, well, the list goes on and on. Cant
imagine how any other outcome to this sorry state of affairs could have happened, the judge
grumbled, turning the scowl on Parker. The child John Doe will be housed in the Metro City
Juvenile Correctional Facility, until such time as he can be brought to trial.
Two bailiffs came over. One of them took Blues arm. Blues smug smile wavered. He glanced at
Parker, then looked away, but the warden caught the hint of anxiety in his eye.
Parker asked the bailiff, Is he going right away? Can I wait with him?
The man nodded. Theres five more juvenile cases. The van will probably leave about two-thirty.
Just ask at the desk, theyll show you where to go. But he has to come with us first, sir.
One moment, Mister Parker,said the judge. Theres another matter.
The judge shuffled a few papers around while Blue was escorted from the room. He glanced at
the door as it closed behind Blue and the bailiffs, then put his glasses on the end of his nose again.
I thought it would be best to talk about this between the two of us, spare the boy, all that. He
cleared his throat. Aside from all other considerations, it baffles me why you let John keep such a
vicious animal for a pet. Im given to understand that it has bitten a number of people over the
years?
Parker had to admit that this was true. Yes, your honor, but always in self defense. Hes very
protective.
The judge sighed. An attack fish. Now Ive heard everything. Whats more, you allowed the boy
to build it a robot suit? So that it could cause even more damage? A testament to his genius, but
extremely irresponsible. This is one matter, at least, which I can rectify immediately. You will turn
the creature over to animal control for humane disposal.
With that, he brought down the gavel.

The Price of Life

It was as if a giant hand squeezed Parkers chest. The rustle of clothing as people shifted in their
seats, murmuring to each other, someone coughing, all sounded abnormally loud in his ears.
Ek...excuse me? he said. Disposal?
The judge didnt even look up. Humane disposal, yes. Whats next on the...
Parker came around the table. Now wait just a minute. You cant do that! He saw one of the
bailiffs from out of the corner of his eye, on an interception course. Parker stopped in the middle
of the floor, clenching his fists. Your honor, may I approach the bench?
I will thank you to lower you voice, the judge said sharply. Mister Parker, the court is ready to
move on to the next case.
This cant wait, your honor. This is his life were talking about here! He glanced at the bailiff
again, who stood with arms akimbo as if ready to leap.
I think I already brought down the gavel, Mister Parker.
But... A hundred protests whirled through his head. But he can talk, he finally blurted.
I believe there are a number of claims to that effect, but I really dont...
He can talk! Parker shouted. Hes an intelligent being who...
...see what difference it makes, said the judge, raising his voice and talking over him. If the boy
cant control his pet...
Minions not a pet, hes a person!
Ive heard just about enough, the judge said. If a parrot starts viciously attacking people, Im
not going to bother asking how big its vocabulary is.
This is as good as murder, goddammit!

The judge jabbed a finger at Parker. I will not tolerate that language in my court. One more word
and I will charge you with contempt.
Parker clamped his jaw shut. He forced his hands to his sides and tried to look contrite, though he
felt like he was getting strangled with his own tie.
The judge settled back in his creaking leather chair with an air of satisfaction. Now, are you
going to relinquish the creature or should I have animal control come to your house?
Parker wanted to smack that superior look off his face. He gripped one hand with the other. Can
you at least let them see each other one more time? To say good-bye?
The judge sighed and adjusted his glasses.
Parker talked fast, before the judge tried to tell him to shut up again. Blues had Minion his whole
life, ever since he was a baby. He used to carry him around with him all the time. The robot suit
started out as a way for Minion to move himself around. I ought to have restricted the size of it,
but I have to confess I was pretty impressed by what Blue created. Out of scrap, mostly. I take full
responsibility for whatever damages have been done, and I realize it seems a little strange that
Blue is so attached to a fish, but taking Minion away like this will traumatize him. More than you
can imagine. Please. I can bring him to visit Blue. Just this once.
The judge pursed his lips and shoved a few papers around while Parker sweated. He could hardly
believe he was standing here begging for Minions life. And with such trite arguments! Trying to
reduce poor Minions existence into a framework that this moron would understand.
The judge drummed his fingers. I suppose that could be arranged. You have one week. They
dont normally allow animals in juvenile hall, youll have to talk to their warden. Do I have your
word that you will hand the fish over seven days from now?
You have my word, your honor.
Parker felt light-headed as he hurried out. Well, thats it. I wasnt under oath, but lying to a judge
is almost as bad as perjury. Wonder what other criminal acts Ill commit today? Because there
was no way in hell he was turning Minion over.
He was half way out of the courthouse before he remembered he was supposed to sit with Blue
while he waited to be transferred. Sinking down on the granite steps, he clasped his shaking hands
together.
Stay calm. The judge said he had one week. It wasnt like animal control workers were going to
storm in with a SWAT team to take Minion away by force. They didnt work like that. They
didnt know where Minion was right now anyway.

Just in case...
He went back inside, found a pay phone, and called his assistant Andrew, telling him not to give
Minion to anyone for any reason. He talked to the security chief, too. After Schmidt got done
swearing, he assured him that no one from animal control would be allowed past the front gate.
And he had a suggestion. How about I hide him at my place, John? Nobody herell say squat.
Tell the court somebody stole him.
Seriously, Walt? You really think anyoned believe that?
Worth a shot.
Parker chewed his lip. The way things were going, hiding him didnt sound like such a bad idea,
at least for a while. I may take you up on that offer. Last resort, though. We cant hide him
forever.
His next call was to the absent Strunk. Oh, hello, Mister Parker. Ill be at the courthouse half an
hour early so we can...
Early? Parker said, bewildered. What are you talking about? It ended ten minutes ago.
There was a rustling of paper, and muffled voices as if a hand had covered the mouthpiece.
Parker leaned a fist against the phone. The hearing was at eleven. ELEVEN OCLOCK, Mister
Strunk, he said. In the morning.
There were more muffled exclamations on the other end then Strunk was back, clearing his throat.
Oh. Eleven. You sure it was...oh, rats. It was eleven wasnt it? I thought it was at one.
Tell you what, Ill call back later, when you get it figured out, Parker said through gritted teeth.
He slammed down the phone.
-----------He considered not mentioning it to Blue, but he decided the boy deserved to know what was
going on, and he didnt want any more secrets between them. It didnt make it any easier, telling
him what the judge had done.
They were sitting almost knee to knee in the waiting area, three other teenage boys in handcuffs
perched on a bench on the other side of the room and two guards by the door.

Hed never seen the boy turn so pale. Blues eyes widened and his lips parted as he drew a harsh
breath. For a second Parker thought he might actually faint, then the boys mouth clicked shut and
his face went rigid. He lifted his cuffed hands and clenched them into fists before pounding them
onto his thigh, making the chain clink, an accompaniment to his frustration.
I know it looks bad, Parker said. But Ive bought us some time. Time enough to...
He cant do that, Blue whispered. His chest heaved and his nostrils flared. Even though Parker
was expecting it, the speed with which Blue launched himself at the door surprised him.
Parker grabbed him and almost got knocked over. Small as he was, the boy had a wiry strength
even greater than Parker remembered, and he had no trouble understanding how Blue had escaped
custody again and again.
Stop! Dont! he shouted towards the general vicinity of the guards, knowing at least one would
be coming at them. Its all right! Hes upset!
He dug his fingers into Blues straining shoulders and pushed him back, looking him in the eye.
Im not going to let anything happen to him! Stop it! You hear me?
The boys eyes were full of helpless fury, but his gaze locked on Parker. He stopped fighting
against Parkers grip, though he could still feel the tension in the boys taut frame.
I am not going to let anything happen to him, Parker said. I wont allow it. He squeezed his
shoulders, then placed one hand on the back of the boys head, at the base of his skull. It was an
old gesture he hadnt done in years. He remembered it had a calming affect, during times when the
boy experienced pain too great for words to express. He applied firm pressure with his fingers
against the head and neck, and rubbed the smooth skin with his thumb. The boy stood rigid, but
Parker felt him relax almost imperceptibly, and his skinny body no longer pressed forward.
As he looked down into the boys eyes an ache started up somewhere below his ribcage. How
long had it been since theyd connected like this?
He held Blues gaze. Everythings going to be fine, he said firmly. Then, because he felt like he
couldnt say it enough, he said, Im not going to let anything happen to him.
Blues handcuffed fists were still held up between them, knuckles almost white. Slowly the
knuckles darkened to their usual blue. The boy nodded, once.
Parker lowered his hand to Blues shoulder again and glanced around. He could sense that one of
the guards was very close. Sure enough the man was right next to them.
Everything all right then? the man asked. He has to sit down. He gave the impression that if

Blue didnt sit down on his own, then he, the guard, would make him sit.
Yeah. Its fine. Parker said, a little weak in the knees with relief that he hadnt had to see them
wrestle Blue to the floor. He pushed a little at Blues arm and they both sat down.
Blue wet his lips. Dad, will you go to him and make sure hes all right, please? The words came
out in a monotone and a pink blush spread over his cheeksbones.
It had been a long time since Blue called him that. Parker was not comfortable with this painful
attempt at being ingratiating. He didnt want Blue to think he had to suck up to him in order to
save Minions life. Well, Ill be a damn sight more useful than you trying to bust out of here.
Whatd you think you were going to do, smash a hole in the wall?
Blue gave him a sharp look. Maybe, he said. You never know. A very brief evil smile tugged
at the corner of his mouth.
That was more like it. Parker squeezed his shoulder again and left.
----------Parker collected Minion and drove straight over to Miranda Tollivers law office. If she turned out
to be a brick wall, he could always go back to Strunk and browbeat him into shaping up.
Telling Minion about the situation was even worse than telling Blue. It just about broke Parkers
heart, seeing Minion go all quiet and wide-eyed.
If ever there was a time to have as many people as possible hear Minion speak, then now was that
time. But he wasnt one to perform on command, to do little tricks and crap like that. Without Blue
around, he tended to be a lot quieter, especially without the robot suit to give him confidence, as if
by keeping quiet he could escape peoples notice.
Parker was in luck; she happened to be talking with her receptionist, otherwise she would have
been in the fortress of her office, from where she could easily refuse to see him, and maybe even
have security escort him out if he made a scene. They want to put Minion to sleep probably
wasnt the most polite way to begin the conversation, especially with poor Minion right there, but
it sure got her attention right away.
As he explained, her mouth actually fell open. If he thought that shed been shocked when he
announced his plan to adopt the two alien boys, now she looked flustered. Her hand flew to her
chest and her gaze moved from him to Minion and back again. Then her mouth clicked shut, and
she was a pillar of calm once more.
She nodded at him. This once, Mister Parker, I will do you a favor. No charge. Nicole, get the
department for animal control on the phone, will you? Come, she commanded Parker.

She ushered them into her office. Parker sank into the comfortable chair gratefully, with Minion
on his lap. He felt drained, and it was a balm to his frazzled soul to hand over the reins to someone
else for a while.
With a slight buzzing in his ears, he accepted an offer of coffee from some clerk or other, and
watched Tolliver work. Mrs. Tolliver had clawed her way to the top of a male-dominated
profession thirty years earlier, with perfectly manicured nails and iron-clad determination to not let
any bastard get in her way. Disposing of a writ declaring that a fish was a dangerous animal was
mere childs play.
He sipped coffee and kept one hand wrapped around the bowl. Minion peeped out from behind
his hand and they both watched Tolliver summon law books and mysterious documents to her
desk by the bustling secretary, all while she skewered various people over the phone.
Finally she seemed to be finishing her legal rampage. Well, then, if you are so unfamiliar with
such basic procedure, perhaps you ought to consider another line of work. I suggest garbage
collecting, she said, and hung up.
Lacing her fingers together she leaned her elbows on the desk. Judge Webb overstepped his
bounds. Hes a lazy idiot who has been on the bench too long, she said matter-of-factly. No
judge can simply decide an animal is a danger to society, not without at least one witness, a
written complaint from city hall, and a separate hearing. No one has issued such a complaint. And
for that we are extremely lucky.
She gave Minion a hard look and he shrank back. Lets hope that none of your victims decides to
formally issue a complaint. Or sue for damages.
Parker cleared his throat. What else can we do to insure Minions safety?
She sat very still. Thats something for you and Mister Strunk to decide.
Id like to hire you, he said.
Leaning back in her leather chair she steepled her fingers together. Are you aware of how much I
charge per hour, Mister Parker?
Two hundred seventy-five for...uh...lets see, I think thats for a first consultation, for an hour,
isnt it? And then...
You cant afford me, she said, cutting him off.
I have savings, he said. Melanie can get more financial aid. With a second mortgage, itll come

together. Hell, hed put on spaghetti dinner fundraisers if he had to.

Mrs. Tolliver regarded him in silence. She knew all about his financial situation, his battles with
the insurance company to pay for his wifes care, and how he struggled to keep afloat, and how
hed been relieved that his younger son had decided to postpone college for a year.
The polished brass clock on the bookshelf ticked away.
You still cant afford me, she said.
Well, it had been worth a shot. Hed better get back to Strunk, and see what they could do. He
began to push himself up from the chair.
I suppose you thought that because Im a woman Id get all misty-eyed and give my hard-earned
services away free of charge, is that it? Tollivers voice ought to have shrivelled his hair.
Carefully he sank back into the chair. Any sudden movements could ruin the balance. Im sorry,
he said meekly. But you really are the best lawyer I know. He set Minion on his knees. Weve
been so very lucky to have you working with us. I have been ...less than impressed with Mister
Strunk so far. Do you know of any others who could do what you do?
Parker risked a glance downward. Mostly all he could see was the top of Minions head, but it
seemed to him that Minion was giving her a wide-eyed look. He hoped so. Anyone who could
resist that look really did have a heart of stone.
Tolliver pursed her lips. She tapped her pen on the desk and her gaze shifted between him and
Minion. Then she sighed.
Ill take the case. We will discuss a reasonable discount based on a sliding scale, she said,
wincing as if the words gave her pain. And a payment plan.
Oh, thank you, Mrs. Tolliver! Minion cried. He spun in his bowl.
She actually blushed. Parker got up and leaned over the desk to shake her hand. She gave him a
brief smile, but then her gaze hardened.
If anyone finds out about that discount, youre out on your ass, she said, pointing a warning
finger at them. And I hope I dont need to impress on you the importance of keeping our
arrangement a secret from Lord Scott. And Minions well-being is the only matter I will discuss
with you.
Parker raised his hands. Mums the word. It wasnt like the Scotts came around for Sunday

dinner or anything.
Now, we need to get some biologists and ichthyologists to determine Minions status as, since he
is the only one of his kind, an endangered species," she said. "Well contact the university and the
DNR...

Seize the Night

Chapter Notes

This is it. The last chapter. I have to say I'm a little sad to see it come to an end.
Thank you for reading.
"The secret of happiness is freedom. The secret of freedom is courage." -Carrie
Jones, "Need"

When Parker came into the juvenile hall visiting room, Blue bolted out of the corner he was
slouching in. Halfway across the room he remembered his dignity and slowed down, but his stride
was still just under a run when he reached them, hands lifted for Minion.
Yeah, take him, Parker said gruffly, adjusting the heavy bag of books. His arms were getting
tired.
Blue hugged Minion to his chest. He ducked his head but not before Parker saw his eyes shining.
Minion bumped against the top of the containment unit. Hey, Sir, its me!
Blue gave a choked laugh. Yes, Minion, I can see that. Turning on his heel he walked swiftly
back to the corner, wiping a quick hand over his eyes.
Youre welcome, Parker muttered, but he followed at a little distance to give them some space.
Part of Blues rudeness, he knew, was embarrasment over the tears. Part of it.
Other families were there, visiting their wayward sons, nephews, brothers. A few girls held babies
in their arms, or comforted fussing toddlers. Some of these young inmates were already fathers.
Some people cast curious and not entirely friendly glances at Blue and Minion, but they looked
away from Parkers frown.
He turned his back on the room as he joined Blue and Minion at their table. Minion was deep into
his explanation of everything that had been going on since their separation.
I was on that fat detectives desk the longest time, Sir, and everybody kept looking at me, I told
him I had to be with you, and he said no animals in the cells so I just turned my tail on him, Sir.
Minion whirled around to demonstrate, making bubbles float up.

That showed him, Megamind said, his mouth stretching into a smile.
Ha! Yeah, and then Mister Parker took me to get an aquarium, Sir, its a great big one. You
oughta see it. Um. Minion gave Blue an anxious look.
Parker wondered what was up. Worried that the master wouldnt approve?
Blue nodded encouragingly at Minion. Ill bet it is.
Minion perked up again. Even bigger than the office one. The next day Mr. Johnson was giving
me a cookie when Mr. Parker ran in and scooped me up, and I knew something was all wrong,
Sir, I could just tell, and he was bringing me out to the car, and I was like, whats going on? And
he was all, theres something really serious going on here, and I was...
I should be filming this, Parker thought. Hardly three words out of Minion all week, now he was
chattering away. Eh, probably there would be people whod claim the video was faked. He should
try to get Minion to talk like this in front of some of those scientists that Tolliver was lining up.
...and I already knew that, but then I kind of lost my appetite after he told me about that
judge...that... you know...
That bombastic, fat-headed, know-nothing, pompous ass who dared try to have you eliminated?
Yes, him. Blue nodded sagely.
Minion wriggled with delight. Yeah! Pompous fat-ass! But we went over to Mrs. Tollivers, and
I had this look on my face the whole time, Sir, look.
Minion made his eyes big and sorrowful. Blue snickered. Parker smiled. It was good to see
Minion goofing around.
Talked her into my defense!
Blue chuckled. Minion, you sly dog.
Minion looked at the warden, his smile fading into a little worried frown. Um, well, Mr. Parker
did it, really.
Megamind gave Parker a reluctant nod. Thank you, he said quietly, trying to sound like he
meant it. And he did, but...
He curled his arm possessively around the containment unit. If anyone is going to keep Minion
from harm it ought to be me. At least Corbin had been straightforward in his evilness. Megamind

would not stand helplessly by while petty officials decided Minions fate with cold-hearted
paperwork.
She got the whole thing cleared up, said Parker. Shes going to get Minion defined as an
endangered species. Now, it may not be ideal, he said a little sharply at Blues frown. I know
hes not an animal, and she knows it. This will be a temporary measure so no one can have him
disposed of out of hand. Having said that, it would be a big help if you didnt bite anyone else,
he added to Minion with a stern look.
He reached into the paper bag and pulled out the brownies on the paper plate, within a plastic ziplock bag. Blue sat up a little straighter. Melanie made these for you. Shes sorry she couldnt
come, but she couldnt miss work. Shell come next time.
Blue got the bag open and devoured one before Parker finished talking.
They feeding you? Parker asked.
Blue snorted and reached inside for another. And Sammy? he asked. I suppose hes just dying
to visit me as well.
Parker cleared his throat. Well, he wants to be called Sam, now. What his teenage son had to
say in regard to Parkers decision to adopt the two alien boys did not bear repeating. He pulled the
books out of the paper bag. I brought you some things to read.
He set the books on the table, Advanced Physics, Our Cosmic Neighborhood, and A Brief
History of Time. Nothing that had anything to do with electronics and would hopefully keep the
boys mind away from thinking about picking locks or hacking into computer systems, hopefully.
Blues face was neutral as he scanned a few pages, but Parker saw the brief twitch of a lip before
he closed the book. The evenings will just fly by, with reading material like this. He opened A
Brief History of Time at random. Parker watched as his eyes darted back and forth, and his
eyebrows rose slightly. He began to flip to the front when he seemed to remember he had
company. I guess this one looks all right, he said airily, setting it aside.
As the end of the hour neared they got quieter and quieter. Minion kept glancing at the clock on
the wall, which was covered by a cage. All around the room the mood grew heavier as everyone
got ready to say their goodbyes. There were outbursts of strained laughter, and a few tears.
Blue lay his forehead on the containment unit. Minion got quiet and leaned against him. Parker
looked down at his folded hands and waited.
Time, everyone, a guard announced. All visitors to the north exit. People shuffled to their feet,
exchanged hugs.

Parker got up, reluctant to take Minion away. Blue still lay with his head down. He whispered
something to Minion. Parker couldnt tell what he said but Minions fins quivered.
Blue stood, picking up Minion, and shuffled around the table. Parker seized him and crushed him
in a proper hug, sideways since the bowl was sort of in the way. He was tired of all this
awkwardness, he was going to be a father whether Blue liked it or not, and that included
embarrassing hugs.
Parker kept it short, only held him close for a couple of seconds. The boy stood rigid in his
embrace until it was over. Blue coughed, and his cheeks were pink. So, where are you staying?
Minion piped up. He brings me to the office in the day, then home at night. Aquariums on the
first floor, next to the kitchen.
Parker glanced from one to other. They both had faces devoid of guile, innocence, or any other
emotion whatsoever. Years of parental suspicion kicked in, the feeling that something was going
on under those blank surfaces. Especially with these two.
Time, people! Its time! a guard bellowed.
He sighed. Time to go, he murmured, taking Minion from Blues reluctant hands. At the door
he half turned so he and Minion could have one last look. Blue looked very small. He raised his
hand and dropped it quickly, and Parker left him, in that lonely place among strangers.
-------------At supper time there were only a few places left to sit. Megamind managed to put some space
between himself and the blowhards.
The hostile looks from the other boys were increasing. For the first few days at juvie everyone had
kept their distance, and hed been almost too depressed to take much notice, other than to be glad
that they left him alone. He was too strange, and they didnt know how he fit in or if he was
poisonous or what, but they were losing their fear of him.
Many had seen him with Minion. Since most inmates had families, there was a general amnesty
for wussy behavior on visiting day. Megamind suspected that he was a special case. He didnt
give a rats ass for their opinions, but he could tell that they now thought him a weakling, a real
weirdo who got all mushy over a fish. There would be no compensation for him.
Soon, one of these power-hungry gorillas would get it into his head to show a little dominance by
knocking the weird alien kid for a loop. Or maybe the whole bunch of them would attack.
His ribs gave a little twinge as if to remind him what happened the last time hed gotten a beating.

He wasnt looking forward to enduring another, but hed survived Corbin and his goons, hed
survive these bastards too. He wasnt cuffed and helpless this time. Theyd find he wasnt such
easy prey.
Still, hed avoid it if he could. The penalty for fighting was ten days in solitary confinement, and
he knew that the guards wouldnt cut him any slack. He had places to go.
His circuit overloader was almost complete. It was in two separate pieces at the moment, in
different hiding places, and only needed to be combined. Then he could get out of here. He didnt
plan on spending one more night in juvie.
The jokers at the other end whispered and snickered. Blue watched them out of his peripheral
vision as he shoveled the food in, barely tasting it. He didnt feel hungry, but he needed to keep up
his strength.
Brown gravy with an unpleasant reddish tinge covered lumpy mashed potatoes and what might
have been a turkey sandwich. Oversalted and one-dimensional. It was poor fare after the tasty
treats hed enjoyed on the outside. Had prison food always tasted this bad, or was it just the
juvenile facilitys special blend?
One of the jokers began calling, Meg. Hey, Meg. Me-e-e-eg, in an annoying sing-songy voice.
And so it began. First the belittling of the opponent by likening him to a girl, thereby reducing his
status, because no self-respecting male wanted to be identified with those lowly girl-creatures who
existed within the macho sphere as objects to be conquered and ridiculed. It might be the precursor
to a physical attack. But perhaps he could give them pause.
He finished eating and picked up the tray. As he strolled by the snickering group he paused,
slowly turning his head and locking eyes with the head jerk.
Eye contact in itself was a threat to this neanderthal, whose smirk turned into a scowl. The hulking
boy straightened up, making his shoulders strain against the gray uniform. There were a few
snickers of anticipation, and one of them cracked his knuckles.
Megamind ignored them, focusing all his attention on Knucklehead. If anyone calls me Meg one
more time, I will put something in your food that will give you diarrhea for the rest of your life.
Snorts of disbelief met his announcement. Nothin can do that.
On the contrary. A rare worm from the Amazon rainforest can do exactly that. Of course, it
wouldnt be a normal life span. It would be considerably shortened. And theres no antidote. The
worm is microscopic. It attaches itself to your lower intestine and stays there, multiplying.
Imagine, dying of the runs. Dehydration, loss of enzymes, malnutrition. What a way to go.

The table had grown silent. Knucklehead narrowed his eyes. You dont have no worm, he said,
but there was a note of uncertainty in his voice.
Megamind smiled.
The boy turned red. Gonna get all of us, Einstein?
Megamind cocked his head. No, jerkface, just you.
The sneer wavered on the chumps face.
As he went to dump his tray, he heard someone call out, Hey, Me-e-eg. Me-e- Followed by the
sound of a fist thumping somebodys arm and a yelp of pain.
At least he wouldnt get called that anymore.
-----------Minion drifted back and forth in the tank. The house was dark and quiet. Everyone had gone to
bed, Melanie only an hour ago.
He was pretty tired. He didnt sleep well in this strange house with its strange shadows and funny
noises. Though it was a very nice aquarium, and the warden had provided a big rock formation
behind which Minion could hide when he wanted a little privacy.
Minion used it when Sam walked by. He didnt like the way Sam looked at him, when the
teenager bothered to acknowledge Minions presence at all. Melanie at least tried to make him feel
welcome. He liked it when she studied in the kitchen, textbooks and notes spread out. It reminded
him a little of Sir. She would put him in his containment unit and let him roll around the floor or
put him on the table so he could see what she was working on. It was a lot of complicated medical
stuff that he didnt understand but he appreciated the effort.
Minion scooped up a few pebbles from the bottom and spat them out one by one. He probably
shouldnt have talked so much, there at the end. Hed almost tipped the warden off. Minion didnt
know how or when, but he was sure that Sir would come for him.
Be strong, Sir had whispered, and given him the hand signal for soon. So Minion was trying
to be strong, and to be ready, though his heart ached with missing him.
It wasnt absolutely essential for Sir to know the exact location of the aquarium. He was certain
that Sir remembered the layout of the house and would be able to find where theyd put the
aquarium fairly quickly anyway, but Minion had wanted to do his bit to make the transition as
smooth as possible. It was best if Sir didnt spend too much time fumbling around in the dark.

He dozed.
He started awake with a jerk, heart fluttering. He thought hed heard a soft wooden sound. The
front door closing? A footstep on a floorboard?
He swam to the end of the aquarium. Someone was moving through the living room. It could have
been one of the family coming downstairs for a drink of water, but why didnt they turn on the
light? Too much bother? Maybe they were walking so stealthily so they wouldnt bump into
furniture.
Minion drew in water over his gills and let himself open to the bond. To his delight there was a
familiar tingly feeling in his forehead.
Sir! he whispered. Here, over here, quick.
Megamind stepped around the corner, eyes glinting in the light from the window and a huge grin
on his face. Miss me?
Minion bit his lip so he wouldnt squeal, but he did a backflip of joy.
You ready to blow this pop stand, you fantastic fish? Wheres the bowl?
Cupboard, under here, Sir! Minion squeaked, pointing down with his nose.
---------------The next morning Parker stood looking at the aquarium for a long time. There was a blue rubber
duck in it. He was too tired to get very upset. He made some coffee before he called the police.
It was tough to get a hold of them, as most everyone at the station was dealing with the fact that
someone had blown a hole in the wall to the evidence room, stolen an unknown number of pieces
of evidence, and then filled the place with flame retardant foam. The cops were still digging out.
I think I can tell you whats missing, said Parker with a sigh. Megaminds dehydration gun and
Minions robot suit, right?
How do you know that?
Lucky guess.

-----------Epilogue
-----------The news that at least a third of DPI agents across the country were involved in criminal acts
ranging from theft to human trafficking was a serious blow to the current presidential
administration, who had won on the platform of rooting out corruption. Measures were swift.
The national director of the Department of Paranormal Investigations in Washington resigned in
disgrace, though it later came out that he had been manipulated by a psychic and therefore wasnt
entirely responsible for the fact that he hadnt noticed his agency was overrun by crooked
employees. The agency was dissolved, and its duties reabsorbed by the FBI.
------------Corbin went to an asylum, too far gone to be charged with any crime since he was catatonic.
Corbins partner Agent Bates escaped the carnage at the Federal Building but was arrested trying
to board a plane for Canada.
Ulrich Hofstetter, dubbed Wolfman Jack by a newpaper wag, was extradited back to his native
Austria to face trial for murder.
Freezer Burn was picked up by Metro Man for robbing a jewelry store and sentenced to ten years
in the new supervillain prison in Grenville, Florida.
--------Sparkle and Hot Flash teamed up with Lady Doppler for a while, forming the gang called the
Femme Fatales, but Sparkle wasnt really made for a life of crime. It gave her an ulcer. After she
discovered she was pregnant with Corbins child she spiraled into a depression.
She was captured by the Kansas City police. The feds offered her a deal if she would testify
against the disgraced agents of the Department of Paranormal Investigations. She was only too
happy to comply.
She refused to name the father of her child, though. If Corbin ever got his mind back, she didnt
want him to have any claim over her little boy.
---------Metro City drug lord Bruce Otto was found face down in his swimming pool, along with two of

his entourage.
And so Psycho Delic oozed his way into Metro Citys underworld.
---------Wayne Scott again appealed to the family lawyer, and she got Curly and Reg released without
much difficulty, as Corbins credibility was shot to hell.
---------Though the warden was highly irritated that Harry Chambers had hidden Megamind and Minion,
he was still grateful that hed given them shelter when they needed it. Though Harry received a
two-month sentence for violating parole and harboring fugitives, Parkers testimony got it reduced
to a six-month stint in the county jail.
---------Roxanne tapped her foot, impatiently waiting for her parents to finish reading the brochures. So
can I go?
Dr. Ritchi glanced up. Awfully far away.
Roxanne rolled her eyes. Yeah, because its at Penn State, Dad. Two whole weeks! Its one of
the best journalism camps around. Youre always saying I should be thinking about my future.
He exchanged looks with his wife. Thisll be a good experience for her, she said.
He looked at the brochures again, thinking. The police seemed incapable of hanging on to that
alien for any length of time. He would breathe easier if she were out of the city for a while. Who
knew, maybe she really would become a journalist. All right, you can go.
Yesssss! Roxanne pumped her fist. She gave them both a hug and ran to call her best friend.
--------Julian Drive By Franzetti received a surprise visit from the aliens everyone was talking about.
Megamind insisted on paying off Harry Chamberss debt. Franzetti guessed that hed be dealing
with some hot cash so he tacked on an extra handling charge along with the late fee.
Megamind gave him a long, slow look, but Franzetti had been in the game a long time, and was
used to such staring contests.

Megaminds trench coat hung open and Franzetti could see a gun on the freaks hip. He let his
hand slip under the desk to rest on the shotgun.
The freaks eyes followed the movement, then around to the corner where one of Franzettis men
sat. The man moved in his seat to show his own sidearm.
Megamind gave him a steely look. How about a receipt?
Franzetti snorted and shook his head. Dont do receipts.
I will need some assurance that this is the end of it. That my uncle wont find one of your thugs
calling on him to collect a bookkeeping charge, or any other type of extra fee. The way
Megamind said fee almost made it a dirty word.
Howd this freak know so much about his business? He glared at Megamind, then at Minion,
standing half in shadow by the door, a little too close to Franzettis other man, who was forced
back against the wall by Minions bulk.
He supposed he could let Chambers go. He had other sheep he could fleece, sheep that didnt
have overprotective nephews with laser guns. Fine. Pay now, and Chambers is free and clear.
You got my word.
Megamind lifted one eyebrow on his high blue forehead as if he was calculating the value of his
word, and Franzetti began to bristle at the insult, but then the freak nodded and held his hand out.
Then we shake on it.
Franzetti hesitated. Normally he would have done that anyway, but this was an alien. Megaminds
eyes and sinister smile seemed to make fun of him. He stood up and stuck out his hand. He wasnt
scared of no freak. At least Megamind was wearing gloves. Franzetti shook the strong, narrow
hand quickly and let go, half expecting some trick, and almost felt mad that there wasnt one.
Megamind gestured at Minion and the henchfish stepped forward, taking a bundle of money out
of a zippered leather bag. Youre a real business man, Mr. Franzetti. Very pragmatic, said
Megamind.
Franzetti grunted as he counted it out.
Megamind wasnt done. You might want to remember this. I may not look it now, but one day I
will rule this city, and when that day comes, rest assured I will remember who is my friend, and
who is not.
Some resonance of evil in Megaminds voice worked its way into Franzettis crusty soul and he

glanced up uneasily, but the door was already closing behind Minions back.
---------The street people eventually returned to populate the old fish market neighborhood. The potholes
that Sparkle had left all over the place didnt really make the area all that much worse, though
rumor had it the city was thinking about razing the street.
For now, at least, Reg and Curly had a familiar place to hang their hats. Curly installed new foil
pyramids on the ceiling.
One evening as they returned from their daily outing, they found two cardboard boxes sitting in
the middle of the floor with note taped to one. With eternal gratitude, Code Blue and Minion was
scrawled across it.
Hey, its from Code Blue, Curly cried. Excitedly he began ripping into one of the boxes.
Reg saved the note before it got accidentally shredded. The envelope felt kind of thick. He peeked
in and almost dropped it. Along with a folded letter, it looked like there was at least a couple
hundred dollars in there. Nervously he jammed the money in his pocket. If Curly saw that loot
now hed holler. It wasnt like Reg didnt trust the neighbors but... that was a lot of money. Reg
would dole it out for the two of them gradual like so Curly didnt get too excited. Hed make it
last.
He took a look at the second, much bigger box, and saw that it was full of gourmet camping food,
all in neatly sealed packages with instructions for cooking, stuff that could keep for months. One
looked like beef stew. Regs mouth watered.
Curlys big grin faded, and his mouth turned into an O of horror. He flung his box aside with a
cry.
Reg looked up from his examination of a package of hermetically sealed apple pie. Whats the
matter?

Soap, Curly said, outraged. Its full of soap. Somebodys impersonatin Code Blue, man, and
havin a go at me!
Reg picked up one of the paper-wrapped bars. It looked like a plain old bar of Ivory soap, no
additives or perfumes added, but just try telling Curly that.
He looked at the note and read aloud. Dear Curly, I have news of the utmost urgency to give
you. The U.S. Government has perfected its mind-reading ray. It is dangerously potent.
Aluminum, tin, and, indeed, all types of foil are powerless against it.

Curly clenched his pyramid hat close to his head. Oh no, oh no, oh no...
Reg made a soothing gesture with his hand. Hold on, theres more. I have discovered the
antidote. Here are a dozen slabs of a secret substance known only to myself, made of solid
isotopic particles. Take these to the nearest mission, homeless shelter, or rest room. Remove all
clothing, get completely wet, and scrub a slab vigorously over the skin.
Reg hesitated, and glanced at Curly. His buddy was listening intently. Reg cleared his throat and
continued. Rinse off the resulting foam, which is a completely harmless side effect. The isotopic
matter will be absorbed into your skin on a molecular level, thus producing an impenetrable layer
of protection against the mind-reading rays. Isotopes fade over time, so you will need to conduct
this procedure twice a month, or as often as seems convenient. Also good for clothes, for extra
protection. Share with Reg.
Curly exhaled. Aw man, thats a relief. For a minute there I thought I thought he was gonna tell
me to wash.
-----------Tanaka Industries, having suffered two break-ins within a half year period, was extremely keen on
not letting it happen again. They added two super-powered security guards to their team, a lizard
man and a woman with laser vision.
Megamind blocked all communications, disabled the security system, disabled the second system
theyd sneakily hidden within their innermost room and which had tripped him up the last time,
and dehydrated all the guards. He left them in a little pile with a cheery note of encouragement.
----------And then I told them it was from the Amazon and there wasnt any antidote, Megamind said,
chuckling. That put the head jerk in his place quick enough.
Minion laughed. What a bunch of dweebs!
With a happy sigh, Megamind leaned against the bright blue Dodge Charger hed recently
liberated and looked out over the park, drinking in the sight of the lights that glittered and twinkled
on the skyscrapers of Metrocity.
He was free, he had his loyal companion at his side, and theyd successfully, finally, and with
perfect aplomb pulled off the Tanaka heist. The Tanaka executives would have to learn that
simply because some people possessed super powers did not necessarily make them effective
guards.

He scratched his jaw. He wasnt entirely happy with his first attempt at growing a devilishly
handsome beard. It was looking kind of patchy. Hopefully it would grow out more evenly.
It was high time he conquered another adolescent milestone. The consumption of alcohol.
Whoever heard of a tee-totaling supervillain? Even if he wasnt quite there yet. He was a
supervillain-in-training, that was it. A self-taught program. He twisted the cap off the beer bottle
and wrinkled his nose at the odor. Maybe people just dared each other to drink it. He took a
cautious swig but couldnt keep his face from scrunching up as the bitter liquid burned his tongue.
Minion watched the rise and fall of the bottle. How is it?
Not bad, he said hoarsely, and glared at the label. I thought this type was supposed to be sweet.
Ill finish it later. With a slight shudder he handed it to Minion, who set it on the ground.
Should we head back to the lair?
Megamind nodded. Their new lair was in an ideal location on the northwest side, with a nice view
overlooking the lake. Yes. And there I will formulate my plans, he said, stepping away from the
car. He held up one hand and clenched it into a fist. For the ultimate takeover of this...
A figure in white flashed through the air on the far side of the park, making the trees bend in his
wake, branches creaking and leaves rustling.
Megamind flung himself over the hood. Minion dashed around the bumper. Cautiously they
peered around the car.
Heart thumping, Megaminds eyes darted back and forth, scanning the skyline, but Metro Man
was gone. Must have been heading for some emergency, he muttered. Sirens wailed mournfully
in the distance.
Think he saw us?
Megamind bared his teeth in a grimace. Hard to say. Lets go.
There was a brief wrestling match over the steering wheel.
It was one sip, Minion. One sip!
Even caffeine sends you over. You get loopy if you get too much chocolate!
That only happened once, Megamind snapped. Dodging Minions arm he feinted right, then,
when the henchfish moved to block him, he scrambled around Minions side and planted himself
behind the wheel. Ha! Get in.


Sir, until we know how the beer will affect...
In. He revved the engine.
With a sigh, Minion tromped around to the passenger side and got in. Megamind pulled onto the
parkway, leaving tread marks on the asphalt.
So, taking over the city, Minion said. Pretty big order, isnt it, Sir?
It will not happen tomorrow, nor next year, but this city will be mine. He cast an evil scowl at
the sky. Once a certain obstacle has been removed.
As a general rule, Megamind was loathe to take life, even the life of an enemy, preferring to mock,
impede, and humiliate instead. An objective observer might have questioned him on his desire to
eliminate Metro Man, commenting on the scars left by abusers and bullying, and the wisdom of
looking within and healing the self rather than lashing out at the perceived source of pain, and
citing the power of forgiveness and letting bygones be bygones, but Megamind would have
advised an objective observer to shove it, so its just as well there werent any in the area.
He bit his lip and drummed his fingers on the wheel. Visions of robot armies, battle suits,
artificially intelligent robots that would obey his every whim, laser guns of all makes and sizes,
filled his head until he thought he would burst. This miserable metropolis would feel his wrath,
and its golden boy defender would bear the brunt of it.
Minion braced himself as they tore around a corner. Getting rid of Metro Man seemed about as
likely as getting rid of the sun by spitting at it, but if this was what Sir wanted... What do you
wanna do next?
The next item on my agenda is the acquisition of air power.
Oh. Really? Thatll be kinda tough, Sir. How will we find a flight instructor?
For what?
To teach you to fly a plane.
Pfft! Anybody can fly a plane. Im going to make jetpacks.
Ooo! Does that mean I get one too?
Megamind punched his shoulder. Of course, you fantastic fish, you!

They drove on into the glittering night.

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