A Shock for 4-H-N, Chapter Two

4-H-N was watching with Professor Grindo from a vantage-point which commanded the whole of the assault course’s open-air span. The stands on either side were fast filling up with Mini-Flash membership, while Prof via his remote control made the last checks on a huge moving form far off in the distance towards the finish-line. The Kral-it-Gor Memorial Security Lodge, in its robot mode, swung and held satisfactorily through the motions of final guardian.

“Most of the old equipment here needed an overhaul,” remarked Prof. “It’s been a long time since any Mini-Flash decided they had to use it.”

There was something different about him today, but 4-H-N grinned.

“Well, I’m not sure about this replacement, Prof,” said she. “I mean, Robo-Petunia likes me because I’m the one who brought her back. Maybe he’ll be partial, for the same reason!”

“Yes,” agreed Prof, unsmiling. “On rare occasions you’re good at bringing things back.”

4-H-N felt the full-body blush begin about her cheeks, and so swiftly did the raging redness rush on that even her thighs beneath her tunic-hem were tinted when she mumbled something to Prof about making a start and departed. He did not turn to watch her go.

She hadn’t realised he knew about the experimental equipment. She’d done her best to put it back just as she’d found it. And she knew it hadn’t been right to take it in the first place, but…

Did Prof only mean that?

Because if he was also talking about Micro-Mallet, then…

4-H-N choked back on the tears which threatened to burst from her eyes.

Then it was a horrid thing to say. She’d loved Micro-Mallet and had never ceased to blame herself for the part she’d played in losing him. Back home on Earth, only a bad person would have said something like that. It wasn’t what you expected from somebody who one minute was saying you and your family were welcome to live with him, and who was supposed to be on your side. But there weren’t proper sides in this galaxy, and that was the very worst of it. The place from the start had trampled over everything 4-H-N believed about what good people and bad people were. By the time she reached the starting-post, Prof was heaped in some obscure way together with Auntie Green, Storm-Sky and Joe.

There stood the competition, and 4-H-N refused point-blank to let him see her cry. Fiercely she wiped her face. There were no surprises on perceiving the slight figure in his senior blue, for it had been with tremendous interest and no small satisfaction that 4-H-N noted which of the many graduate males had jumped to accept her challenge. It was proof enough she was going about this the right way, and yet another reason to plonk Prof atop that heap was that he’d spoiled all the sense of accomplishment that that news had brought her.

“Ready, Mini-Flash 4-H-N?” was Flashslip’s greeting.

Forget everything else that was riding on this. It would be worth it alone if 4-H-N never had to hear that boy address her in formal terms again. Without replying she turned ponytail on him, contemptuous. It wasn’t like he’d ever come anything but second in the days they’d competed as friends. It wasn’t like she didn’t have this. It was just that…

The horrible thing Prof had said wouldn’t go away.

No-one nice would have said it to a girl who had something so important to do and was just going off to do it.

The first obstacle was a wide flight of stairs. 4-H-N bobbed down before it into a starting-crouch, Mini-Flash style, which was to say with one pincing thumb and forefinger behind her to tug the rear hem of her tunic. Flashslip did exactly the same and there the pair of them held, equally poised, equally modest.

The crowd seemed to be holding its breath.

4-H-N for one split-second wondered how widely that meant the movement was represented in its ranks, and then there was the sound of the starter’s ray-gun.

She flew from her stance, taking the steps two at a time, knowing she could easily outstrip Flashslip at such a sprint. The wind was in her face and she was making great bounds, knees high, feet far apart – in fact it was decidedly breezy the closer to the summit she drew, 4-H-N could feel it on more than just her cheeks – and from there a jump down to the assault course proper, for which even now she was steeling her leg-muscles. Last four steps, last two…

Something really wasn’t right. There really was too much breeze.

And it hit 4-H-N just what had happened the very instant it became too late, so that when she sprang into open space, her heart underwent a plummet which mimicked the motion of her body.

The audience erupted as 4-H-N’s tunic-skirts flipped.

It was a din of incredulity bordering on hysterics, that even a girl with a reputation for delinquency should have opted to run a time-honoured Flash Club tradition thus. For while the law of gravity acting on 4-H-N and her uniform had been anticipated, the resultant view had not. No-one however was more surprised than 4-H-N herself, who would have readily agreed with her spectators that it wasn’t like her. Indeed, what she showed the capacity crowd had previously been witnessed by others just once.

On Drenthis.

And as 4-H-N landed, badly from the shock and hurting her ankle into the bargain, it was the feeling named for that planet which ruled her as never before.

She was shaking from it, crimson all over in a way not even Prof’s words had prompted. Never even mind how hard she’d tried to keep Joe and the message-capsule from her thoughts. Never even mind the other thoughts, to which she’d assumed she was entitled, about Flashlight and something that was going to be secret and special and shared…

This time the furious sobs really did come. Shared was about right. But so much for saving yourself, when the entire assembled company of The Flash Club had just seen.

But never even mind all that!

It wasn’t possible. That was the point. 4-H-N knew which ones she’d had on. She’d picked them out specially that morning.

Flashfrond’s. As when she went after Moltron. She’d made that pair a part of her crusade.

And she remembered tugging them purposefully on in her room. No others would have done for the task at hand.

She’d been wearing them when she went into her starting-crouch.

So how in the name of the two moons could they have vanished, between then and the top of the stairs?

Flashslip alighted neatly next to her and shot into the lead.

TO BE CONTINUED