Night on a Bare Conurbation, Chapter Two

It turned out not to be one of your uneventful patrols. Indeed, the boys later remembered an Earth-expression about biting off more than you could chew.

They’d been cruising over alleyways and warehouses from the safety of Flashslip’s space-car, scanning the streets for signs of disturbances they might report, when a heavy thump in front all but tipped them nose-over-tail. There was Schiss-Zazz, perching a windshield’s width from Flashslip’s face.

No time to swerve, or even yell. One pair of points plunged down like a dagger and pierced the prow.

Schiss-Zazz hurled himself limbs-first into space as the burning car ran aground on a raised plaza, throwing the Mini-Flashes flat. For several seconds they lay there splatted, pants showing. If Flashbee was the only actual squashed bug among them, the other two could at least claim to know the feeling.

They scrambled to their feet soon enough though. They’d looked for this, and like it or not, it was here.

Schiss-Zazz stood, more than twice the height of a male Mini-Flash, every last bit of him muscular and lean. His bared teeth and staring eyes exuded malicious madness. Quickly the boys surrounded him, deploying standard triangular formation as at any game of three-on-one. This recent Flashball innovation had come about in consequence of the second gender, and against a lone girl-opponent the strategy had even been known to work.

Unfortunately, Schiss-Zazz wasn’t one for playing by the rules. Offer him a choice of targets and he was likeliest to go for them all.

One of his pig-stickers shot straight out and precision-popped an inflatable compartment on Flashsatsumas’s forearm. Such coursing currents as the Mini-Flash had at that moment been about to unleash therewith bent back upon him, so agonizingly he cried aloud. Flashbee, though fearful for his friend, reacted fast and threw fingers and feet at the concrete wall behind. His stinger always seemed to be in the wrong place for combat situations. Persevering he proceeded to scale the vertical surface on all fours, that he might properly position the appendage and take Schiss-Zazz out.

Scuttling thus over everyone’s heads in a little yellow skirt left Flashbee a bit exposed, but that embarrassment he could live with. Just as long as it was the worst thing that happened.

Schiss-Zazz thrust his other die-cast duo after him. The blades snapped open and hooked Flashbee’s pants. Chill horror at that cold metallic touch twisted him inside, and he squirmed with a wildness that would have done any of his pinned ancestors proud. One hand flailed free of the wall, then the opposite toecap kicked loose, and before he knew it Flashbee was tumbling the way he had come. Neatly Schiss-Zazz completed his snip, leaving Mini-Flash flesh unscarred but shearing through elastic and cotton at one smooth stroke.

These few moves from the aggressor had taken up only a palpitation or two from Flashslip’s fluttering heart, but that at least was long enough for him to deduce he was third in line. Thus when Schiss-Zazz rounded off with a kick aimed at Flashslip’s head, he anticipated it and ducked. Having duly dropped to his hands and knees however, skirt inside-out, the issue was where Flashslip was going to go from there.

For anxious as all the trio were, Flashslip’s reasons for being so were arguably the best. His powers didn’t have any aggressive application.

A senior he might have been, but it wasn’t like he was female. Energy-projections were still some way beyond him. All he could do, as his name suggested, was slip out of synch with the rest of the cosmos for stretches which thus far hadn’t exceeded a handful of seconds. Nor had he yet figured out a way of taking his clothes with him when he did it.

Schiss-Zazz however was riding out the spin and leering as he measured for a deadly diagonal drive. Flashslip didn’t have any choice. He took a deep breath and vanished clean away, his tunic and pants and boots flopping empty to the floor.

Twin titanium tips speared through the air these had occupied and finished with a bang on poor Flashsatsumas, this time puncturing the polyvinyl swelling at his shin. Power-feedback there was worse than a turned ankle. He whimpered and fell, clutching his foot.

Flashslip reappeared, a little breathless and very pink, on top of his crumpled garments. Something about this adversary’s dress-sense seemed to be contagious. The Mini-Flash pushed himself into motion and rolled along the pavement until he was out of Schiss-Zazz’s reach, fetching up front-down so that some of what he’d have liked to have stayed hidden remained so while the rest poked skyward.

By the time he looked up again, Schiss-Zazz for reasons Flashslip couldn’t fathom had snapped into a surface-to-air stance.

Swinging mightily from apex to calves, that one deflected with both devices the bolt from the blue bearing down on him. Flashslip and his flabbergasted friends witnessed brilliant acetylene rain, and glimpsed flaming curls as the thing bowled backward from the impact. For a moment the boys thought it was a meteor.

And it was.

Whoever said the second gender kept coming up with surprises would have taken note. Certainly no male Mini-Flash had hitherto suspected he would ever be happy to see her.

Even if Flashbee, and more so Flashslip, might not have chosen these exact circumstances to fall under the gaze of a girl.

Mini-Flash Meteor landed, stood up straight and was off again, her faultless footwork carrying her at Schiss-Zazz in a swift succession of spins. As she twirled she reignited the shining shard of energy which emitted from her palm, that gymnastic-ribbon light-blurs surrounded her and trailed in her wake. Escalating momentum whipped tunic-skirts to a level circle and pale thighs crossed and recrossed, as Meteor shimmering silken and snug closed like a whirlwind with the foe.

Schiss-Zazz however knew this dance, and matching his steps mockingly to hers kept pace in reverse, fending off each lightning arc until Mini-Flash Meteor was done riding-up and had ridden herself out. Her heels clapped smartly together, and she tucked her free hand behind her back. So the duellists resumed, she pitting her switchblade against Schiss-Zazz’s steel, sparks showering afresh. Meteor threw her fencing-arm in huge swoops and ascensions, not for the sake of flamboyancy but rather her opponent’s far greater range and his four edges to her one. She could not expect to outlast him in straight sets, but nor was it her intention to try. She merely awaited opportunity, and when it arrived, acted.

Half-jumping, half-flying to shoulder-height, Mini-Flash Meteor slapped the hollow of her crotch to Schiss-Zazz’s chops and crushed her gusset down on his jawline. Everything now depended on whether she could drag her other knee up and round. She aimed to topple Schiss-Zazz while turning him about between her thighs, and finish in a seated position squashing his face between her panties and the paving-stones.

It was ambitious. Auntie Green would have been privately pleased, while spanking Mini-Flash Meteor soundly for her overconfidence. This last was no friend to the neophyte where such as Schiss-Zazz were concerned.

Laughing his weird cutting cackle he dealt Meteor a slit straight down the centre of her bodice. She was unhurt, but the fabric so slashed that any angle beyond the perpendicular would have tipped the whole of her out. A girl’s flicker of fear for her modesty was more than distraction enough. Schiss-Zazz bundled her from him that she bounced clear, even as he righted himself. His lithe form shot for the shadows and in an instant was gone.

END OF CHAPTER TWO