On Intelligentsor Day, Chapter Three

If Intelligentsor was formidable in two dimensions, he had nothing on Auntie Green’s very real three. Counting her elaborate iron-hued bouffant she was twice the height of anyone else there, all of whom by now were mimicking the stillest of the cardboard likenesses. Abaft the Mini-Flash matron’s stiff-starched emerald bosom, one fist characteristically closed and unclosed about the business-end of a carbon-shafted birch.

“Dylan Cook and Phoenix Neetkins have made contact,” announced Auntie Green. “They identify the perpetrator as Moltron, a known galactic mercenary.”

4-H-N stared back, open-mouthed.

“Your loved ones are alive and unharmed, by the way,” Auntie Green added. “I mention it just in case your concern extends to them, as well as your knickers.”

A mere look advised Mini-Flash Phytolith and Mini-Flash Meteor they were dismissed.

Moltron? How could it have been Moltron? As the wronged party scrambled onto all fours and pulled a fast fade, while the steadfast and courageous other made as if to give her namesakes track-lessons, nothing of 4-H-N ran except her thoughts on how sure she’d been. Mini-Flash Phytolith’s rudeness to her in the mailroom. His snooping at the flight-simulator. The way he hung around. The way he looked at her. None of which was evidence, 4-H-N did see that. Yet even so, the revelation left her numb.

Or rather, from the looks of Auntie Green’s birch-rod, she was about to wish she was.

Not that she didn’t deserve it. That part was blowing 4-H-N’s mind maybe most of all. So for the first time in quite a comprehensive career of Flash Club corporal punishment, she turned ponytail on the matron in awareness any schoolgirlish irony would have been unwarranted. Maybe it helped that today was already reserved for solemnities, but the eons-long heritage of the body to which 4-H-N belonged bowed her with contrition and awe, as she lifted tunic-skirts in back and braced herself to make reparations to the same.

“Did I instruct you to prepare for physical discipline, Mini-Flash 4-H-N?” inquired Auntie Green.

The prospects and pitfalls of an over-the-shoulder glance were swiftly weighed up. It was dangerous, and possibly playing into Auntie Green’s hands, but seemed indicated all the same.

“I see such sights quite frequently enough during my working hours,” Auntie Green explained, once 4-H-N’s eyes had met hers. “And the following is strictly off the record.”

So, did that mean she was allowed to…?

Very slowly, very cautiously, 4-H-N resettled her hemline and faced front. Auntie Green watched her, saying nothing. This was new, and 4-H-N wasn’t yet sure she liked it.

“Funny you should have mentioned Storm-Sky,” the matron resumed at last. “It was his decision not to advance you.”

As if 4-H-N’s head hadn’t already been spinning.

“Me, I wanted you advanced,” Auntie Green went on. “It would have been one step closer to getting you off my hands. I recommended you, and Storm-Sky overruled me.”

Such had been the sum of one of 4-H-N’s likeliest-sounding and most frequent conjectures, but that the roles were neatly reversed. Risky as it still was to utter a peep, she had to know.

Her lips formed the question: “Why?”

“I suppose it was so you could continue to serve as a positive role-model to the younger Mini-Flashes,” Auntie Green replied.

Standing more or less where Mini-Flash Phytolith had landed, a broken Intelligentsor on either side of her boots, 4-H-N was reminded sarcasm could hurt as much as any birch.

“Or maybe he finally saw what I’ve known all along,” the matron then proposed. “That your so-called new leaf is just another delinquent lie. Take today. The rash, groundless accusations of a rash, witless girl, all washed down with a little bullying and vandalism. You’re even keeping the same company as before. I can’t say I was exactly overcome with surprise. Storm-Sky meanwhile is no Lightning, in either sense, but this is the first time I’ve set any store by his much-vaunted wisdom. Inasmuch as he’s showing promising signs of getting wise to you.”

Auntie Green had spared one pair of cheeks, but the other by now was pricklish.

“He saved your life,” 4-H-N couldn’t help putting in.

She didn’t shout it out, nor even say it pertly. But it would have been beyond her to let it pass. Up until two minutes ago, she’d assumed Storm-Sky was on her side.

The response was a smile which 4-H-N was absolutely certain she didn’t like.

“And so did your people,” pronounced Auntie Green, in an elaborate sing-song. “Yes, I heard you boasting just now. Apparently my galaxy can’t get by without you. The Nereynis Incident was a fine example too, when you unlawfully freed a Flash Club prisoner who later went on the rampage, threatening civilians and Mini-Flashes alike. But why even change the subject from Limb Four? Planet Earth’s finest and their all-important cause were indeed on hand that day, fighting valiantly to save me. From Joe’s son. From their problem, who they brought here with them to my home. How generous of them to save me.”

4-H-N had need of some quick work from her eyelashes. She and Bobby helped save her too, even if that wasn’t widely known. And here were her thanks.

The strong hard fingers flexed for the last time round the shaft of the rod.

“We’re beyond physical discipline, Mini-Flash 4-H-N,” were Auntie Green’s plain words. “This pleasant little chat was just to let you know that in a few more moves, I’ll have you right where I want you.”

What was suddenly behind the steel-rimmed spectacles made even 4-H-N shrink.

“And that’s when you’ll learn about real Flash Club punishment,” promised Auntie Green.