Vertiginous, Chapter Two

Since it seemed to have turned into yet another undercover mission, crowds were going to be best avoided, because 4-H-N’s disguise was unlikely to work on Mini-Flashes who already knew her. Flashlight for example had known who she was even when she had her nightie on. She couldn’t risk running into some friend who’d accidentally give the game away, so she led the senior to a windswept plateau nestled high amidst the conurbation’s upper strata, where was an out-of-the way park. Once there she stood and surveyed Flashfrond, he having told her that that was his name.

Circular face, hair like light copper, little blue petticoaty boy-tunic and pants. Yep, 4-H-N was quaking in her leg-warmers. Look out, delinquent females the galaxy over.

The only thing was, jokes were all well and good, but the situation represented by this underwhelming specimen of masculinity had badly unnerved 4-H-N.

She needed to get to the bottom of it.

“So, what sort of level are you at?” was her brisk beginning. “Do you and the friends you talked about get any sports practice in when you meet?”

“That’s really a private thing,” replied Flashfrond, very shortly. “Shall we just crack on?”

Fine, thought 4-H-N. Be like that.

“Then here’s the first point,” she commenced. “Because seriously, Flashfrond. I could hear you from over where I was doing my exercises.”

The round cheeks flushed with colour.

4-H-N drew a deep, quiet breath. Yes, the sight was hardening her heart. And yes, just now she rather liked it.

“Don’t be so mean!” she sang, mimicking him. “Play properly! Give me a chance!”

Yet even under the circumstances, 4-H-N immediately afterwards felt small for enjoying somebody else’s squirms. It wasn’t like her. That had always been the worst of this galaxy – its bad sides brought out sides of her she didn’t greatly care for.

Moreover, it wasn’t to the purpose. In fact it was counterproductive. 4-H-N made an effort to dial it back, then transformed herself as best as she could into a kindly gym teacher.

“That’s what our smug little friend’s thinking about right now,” she told Flashfrond in a supportive voice, as though it had all been part of some hard but helpful instruction. “Or she will be, as soon as she’s done unpicking!”

A sheepish smile was returned at last. Good. Figuratively speaking the friendly arm was back around his shoulders, and that was where it was needed.

She took up the ball and told Flashfrond to try for a simple interception. His play was so bumbling that 4-H-N could have occupied five minutes making him eat leotard, but instead she let him succeed first time, then gave out a little cheerleader spiel on how well he’d done.

“You’re far above the other male Mini-Flashes I train with,” she enthused. “Like Flashslip, for example. Do you know him?”

Flashfrond was lining up to take the shot. “Flashslip?” he frowned though his concentration. “Oh, yes. Met him once, anyway. Came to the last – ”

He threw the ball.

“The last…?” 4-H-N prompted.

“You ask a lot of questions,” returned Flashfrond, with finality.

Knickers, thought 4-H-N. But at least she’d learned a little.

So there’d been a last something. And from the sounds of it, she was right. Flashslip had been.

“Sorry,” she said to Flashfrond meanwhile. “I’m not trying to be a 4-H-N.”

Flashfrond scoffed.

“She can be as good at Flashball as she likes,” he declared. “Everyone says she’s supposed to be better at it than us boys. Like that’s going to change what she’s got coming to her.”

The shuttle-stop cast its greenish glow out upon the conurbation night. 4-H-N from the troubled fathoms of her thoughts looked over to where Flashfrond stood.

He looked as any boy in the galaxy might, or any boy back home for that matter, who was coming from a games lesson which had gone as his had. The shelter-sign’s light fell on meek quivery legs, shone from disarrayed copper hair, and picked out the timid folds which hung about his skirt and shoulders. As closely as 4-H-N studied that round physiognomy on which flushes were starting to fade, she could read only what was familiar in a sex with which she’d been acquainted since starting school.

And that, it struck 4-H-N now, was the most awful part of this awful thing.

That you didn’t know.

You could look at him and not realise. You might even think he seemed nice.

This wasn’t the kind of threat which wore a ragged grey cape. You couldn’t offset this with martial music or grand pronouncements on conflicts to come.

How many more Flashfronds were there?

How many more Flashslips had they coerced?

Nothing was more important to 4-H-N than finding out. Flashfrond however already seemed too suspicious of her for another Flashball practice session to be on the cards. She was mulling over alternative avenues, and coming up with nothing, when she noticed he’d started looking at her with much the same depth and consideration she’d lately directed his way.

Why was beyond her. Sitting as she was between him and the luminous advertising hoarding, all he’d have been able to make out was the silhouette of her profile.

Since nothing today had been calculated to put 4-H-N at her ease, she was on the verge of asking Flashfrond if he had to stare like that when all at once he blurted out:

“I don’t suppose you’re available tomorrow?”

4-H-N was flabbergasted. Had her problem just been solved? She told Flashfrond cautiously she was free.

“Then why don’t you come over?” he proposed, in rather a breathless rush. “I’ll get some nice snacks and a drink for you, and we can chat. It’s always easier to talk in private, isn’t it? Round at my room you can ask me anything you want.”

It was slipped in extremely winningly. Artfully, even. Everything suggested Flashfrond was trying to strike a bargain. Nor was it outside 4-H-N’s powers to hazard a wild guess as to its nature, seeing as she wasn’t a first-year in a sailor-collar anymore. Only if it was what it sounded like, why the sudden change of tune?

The Grindotron shuttle was landing. There wasn’t going to be another chance for 4-H-N to find out more. So she made up her mind and accepted the invitation.

Flashfrond quickly told her where and when to find him at Headquarters, and then with the look of one whose evening was complete, told her he’d see her there.

TO BE CONTINUED