:
THE MAID OF STEEL

# 3

Script by Kell Carpenter, with plot assist by Barry Reese

"And Fate is setting up the Chessboard..."

LAST ISSUE: Following her P.R. man Cutter Sharp's suggestion Supergirl (against her better judgment) was a guest on the Jackson Springs Show, a "tabloid T.V." show. To Supergirl's and Cutter's surprise, Andy Jones (also known as Comet) appeared to announce on national T.V. that she was strongly attracted to Supergirl. The Gang, a trio of villains put together by Intergang, interrupted the taping of the show in pursuit of another guest, teen hero Little Boy Blue. Blue and Supergirl thwarted the Gang and saved the audience from harm.

Leesburg

It was a typical morning in the Leesburg school system. Children were making their way to their classrooms, talking, some rubbing the sleep from their eyes. The first bells were twenty minutes away, but already the schools were filling as the students arrived, from both early buses and working parents' cars.

At the high school, there were several students who had made their own way. They filled the student parking lot with a wide variety of cars: the shiny gifts from parents who could afford the latest "hot" car as well as the hand-me-downs from parents who had lost sleep (and money) making a way for their beloved children to have their first car.

At the far end of the lot, two cars emptied as six young people emerged into the morning air. At first glance, the six appeared to have nothing in common: there were punks, druggies, hippies and preps in the group. The cars were even different: a shiny new sport utility vehicle and an old, beat-up and peeling Chevy Suburban.

The group smiled little. They talked in hushed tones, so as to thwart any efforts from passers-by to hear their conversation.

"...so everyone's ready? You've all brought your assigned equipment?" A tall young man with stylishly unkempt collar-length hair asked the entire group. Nods from the other five, accompanied by affirmative head nods and grunts. "Good. We'll all meet back here at 10:30 then it's off to see the little kiddies. And then we'll be famous..." He smiled a wolfish smile.

The others again affirmed their agreement, their own humorless smiles meeting his. Then they all headed off toward the school, to begin their day...

"...I just don't see what the problem is. I'm going to teach school for the day. Is it so unbelievable that I could actually teach kids something?" Cutter Sharp stopped his attempts at tying his tie and turned to look at Mattie Johnson.

She shook her head. "I guess not, but it's something I never would have predicted. You, a substitute teacher. Man..." She continued to shake her head, smiling. "And that suit...you have no taste, Cutter!" She dodged as he threw the tie at her.

"Come on, Mattie. We can't all live the high life off a resident's salary..." He winked and stuck his tongue out at her reflection in the mirror as he clipped his trusty old clip-on tie into place.

Lifting an eyebrow, she put her hands on her hips. "Watch it, Mister Sharp. Or you might just find yourself having to mooch off of some other woman..." She smiled at the last, unable to keep a straight face as she joked with him.

He turned around and pulled her into an embrace. They kissed for a few moments, then Cutter broke away suddenly.

"Oh man! Gotta boogie, Mattie -- I'm due in class in ten minutes! Seeya after school?" He looked over her shoulder as he dashed for the door.

Rolling her eyes, Mattie asked aloud "What am I thinking, falling in love with him?" Shaking her head and laughing to herself, she put on her coat and left for the hospital.

Linda Danvers sat in front of her pottery wheel. She had been staring at the lump of clay on the wheel, waiting for inspiration to hit her. Since Wally had taken her angel powers* she had experienced some trouble with her sculptures.

*(See S:TMoS #1 - Continuity Keepin' Kell)

She sighed. "Oh well, I guess I could knock off and go get cleaned up. I wonder if Dick's had any breakfast..."

Twenty minutes later, Linda had showered and put on clean clothes. A quick stop for sausage biscuits and hash browns was her last stop before Dick Malverne's shop. Linda had been trying to actually go on a real date with Dick, but things always seemed to come up, either for him or for Linda. Or Supergirl.

That was the trouble with being a superhero -- your "real life" always seemed to suffer for it. Of course, when your "real life" had belonged to someone else before you, that made matters muddier than most heroes' secret identities...

She pushed the door of Dick's shop open with her behind and backed in, since her hands were occupied with hot coffee in one hand and a paper bag with several growing grease spots in the other. As she turned, she saw Dick watching the television resting behind the counter. He was so wrapped up in the television show he was watching that he hadn't heard the tinkling of the bell tied to the front door.

Linda set the food and coffee on the counter. "Stick 'em up, Malverne!" she growled as deeply as she could, making the sign of a gun with her right forefinger and thumb.

Startled, Dick spun to face her. Seeing that it was only Linda, and that the only weapon was her right hand, he relaxed immediately.

"Sorry, Linda. I hate to admit it, but I was completely engrossed in the 'Jackson Springs Show'. He sure does find some interesting characters to appear on his shows..." Dick shook his head as he let his words trail off.

A disgusted sneer played on Linda's face. "You are so right about that, Dick..." She said. "...and I hope I never have to be one of them again!" Linda thought to herself, remembering her appearance there as Supergirl*. She wouldn't forgive Cutter for that one for a loooong time...

*(It happened last issue, don't you remember? - Shameless Plugger Kell)

Dick brought her back to the present. "Thanks for the breakfast, Linda. I never have time to grab a bite in the morning. What brings you around?"

"I was having some trouble with my sculptures and thought I'd just take a break. Besides, I figured we could sit and talk while business was slow. We never did get to have a 'real' date, y'know..."

Dick laughed as he pulled two chairs from the "Employees Only" area just through the doorway. "C'mon behind the counter. We can sit and eat while we talk…and watch some 'trash T.V.' as well!" He said with a wink.

They both laughed as they dug into their breakfasts.

At the Leesburg High School, Brandon Wells made his way through the morning on auto-pilot. He had thought of nothing since arriving at school besides the fireworks that his gang had planned for the elementary school.

Brandon was the only son of well-to-do parents, who were never home because they worked long, hard hours to provide their son with every modern comfort. It was their way of saying "I love you" - providing every material thing Brandon could want - but Brandon didn't really care.

He saw it as just another way that his parents' generation tried to weasel their way out of actually having anything to do with their kids. Not that he complained about the brand new SUV he was driving, or the best clothes, or his collection of loud and dark music.

His current favorite was by Black Sabbath. It was a song telling of a man who loved to kill, who felt pleasure only when his victims were dying. He heard the lyrics all day long and had dark fantasies of what it might be like to "kill and kill again" like Ozzy sang.

Soon enough, he'd find out for real...

The group met at the far end of the parking lot, precisely at 10:30. The other five in his gang were filled with a mixture of nervousness and excitement at the prospect of Brandon's mission for the day.

The two hippies in the group, the two girls, were a bit uncomfortable. That was mainly due to the fact that there were deadly weapons involved. It did not, however, dissuade them from accompanying the four young men when they left, since their main reason for hanging out with them was that they were in love.

Susan Treadwell was in love with Brandon. She had met him one night a couple of years back at one of those creepy parties that Buzz guy had always thrown. She felt an instant attraction to Brandon, and before the night was over, she was his. She would do anything for him - anything he demanded - to keep him.

Rebecca Scotti was in love with Brandon as well, but hers was an unrequited love. She sought out Susan's friendship for the sole purpose of being invited into the group's circle. All to simply be near Brandon. She too would do anything for him, in the hopes that one day she might have the chance to be his.

Brandon cared little for either Rebecca or Susan, truth be told. He knew of Rebecca's pathetic desires for him, he had from the start. He had even fueled them, with a kind word here and an easily misinterpreted phrase there. Manipulating her was almost as easy as manipulating Susan...

As for the three young men who were also members of Brandon's "inner circle", they had not needed much manipulation to join in Brandon's cause. They had been excluded by most of their peers their whole lives, and were fed-up or angry enough to be ripe for Brandon's "harvest"

Billy "Mutt" Piro was into any drug he could find. They helped him forget the teasing he received at school for being short and unattractive, as well as the indifference at home from an abusive father and an alcoholic mother. He had initially despised Brandon, but when he encountered the older boy at one of Buzz's outrageous parties, he had seen him in a different light. Mutt turned Brandon on to some of the lesser-known drugs in vogue, and Brandon had turned Mutt on to his personal theories on the relationship between life and death...

Doug Johnstone and Jordan Blaine were friends before they met Brandon. They were an odd pair: Doug was a computer geek of the first magnitude, while Jordan was a punk. The two had been friends for years, alienated by even their school cliques when each refused to abandon the other. Brandon had seen them together, alone at school for quite some time when he realized that they would be perfect for him. And, the two friends eagerly accepted Brandon when he approached them. All he had to do was show them some attention and, like loyal dogs, they were his.

The group gathered behind their vehicles. Jordan's Suburban was where they had hidden all the equipment, and now they pulled it from the hidden compartment he and Doug had made.

As he passed out the weapons and gave instructions, Brandon looked over his followers. He smiled. Today would be glorious...

Cutter never realized what substitute teaching involved. He had spent the whole morning running after these little midgets that didn't listen to anything he said. Fortunately for him, there was a Teacher's Assistant who knew how to deal with Second Graders.

Cutter excused himself to the T.A. for a quick trip to the Teachers' Lounge. His clip-on tie long ago deposited in his coat pocket, he soaked a paper towel with cold water and rubbed it across his bald head and his neck. As he dried his head off, he wondered if he could get out of his substitute gig by lunch time. That way the day wouldn't be a total loss...

He made his way back to the room, where the T.A. had actually gotten the little monsters to sit down and listen as she read a story. Her eyes met his for a moment and she smiled. He smiled back and sat down on one of the ridiculously small chairs, listening to the story as well.

"Well, I guess I could stay the whole day. It'd be a shame to leave her at the mercy of these kids..." Cutter thought to himself as he relaxed and let himself become caught up in her reading.

Just as Cutter was really getting into The Stinky Cheese Man, Brandon and his crew pulled up outside the elementary school. They followed the plan, parking the two large vehicles across either end of the semi-circular drive. This effectively blocked the school faculty from leaving in their cars for help, as well as the police from entering the school grounds in their vehicles.

Brandon and the others, all wearing black, strode confidently toward the school. Brandon was singing the chorus to his favorite song as he worked the pump action on one, then the other of his sawed-off shotguns, with the others accompanying him.

They reached the door and Brandon paused, turning to face his followers. "We're here. There's no turning back now. Are you with me?" He looked to the others, and saw in their eyes that they were with him. Nodding his head, he said "Let's go down in history, my friends..."

Brandon threw open the doors, causing everyone in the entry hall to freeze in their tracks. Smiling his wolfish grin, he raised both guns and announced at the top of his lungs, "The Psycho-Men are here! The killings will now begin..."

NEXT ISSUE: The Psycho-Men bring death to Leesburg Elementary School. Do you really need to know more than that?

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Hello, gentle readers. I imagine that by now you know that this isn't a "touchy-feely" Supergirl story.

As I write this, a horrific scenario took place in Littleton, Colorado only five days ago. Two young men walked calmly through their high school and murdered several of their classmates, one of their teachers, and finally themselves. Many teenagers were also injured or maimed by shrapnel from pipe bombs and grenades these two young men set off.

I am deeply disturbed by this latest (and most horrible) school shooting incident. How could somebody that young get to a point in their lives when they feel the only solution is to kill? How could someone that young plan, as they did, for a whole year to carry out this mad scheme? Most importantly, how could someone that young gain access to the weapons of destruction that they did?

These questions have no easy answers. Unfortunately, they only bring up other, more deeply troubling questions, at least for me. I have a deep faith in God, and have for many years. But events like this sometimes move me to question God, and to even get angry with him.

This story is my "therapy", if you will. I hope you'll indulge me as I work through this. Thanks for being here to share in my struggle. Thanks as well, to Barry for stepping aside for a couple issues on the scripting to let me work all this out.

Kell Carpenter
4/26/99

(Comments for Barry can be sent to aric_dacia@yahoo.com)

: THE MAID OF STEEL

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THE MAID OF STEEL