Velveteen vs. the Junior Super Patriots by Seanan McGuire Page B

thoughts. Finally, raising his head just enough that their eyes met, he said, “Marketing didn’t know where you were until just recently, Vel. You left the team, and you dropped off the radar entirely. I know you probably won’t believe this, but when they seal the records, it’s for real. No monitoring, no check-ins. They treat you just like everybody else. Unless . . .”
    Feeling suddenly sick to her stomach, Velma said, “Unless we display superhuman abilities in a public setting. Is that it?” He didn’t answer. “Aaron. Is that it?”
    “Yeah.”
    “But if they weren’t monitoring my movements, then how—”
    “Dave called us.” Seeing the shocked look on her face, Aaron raised his hands, palms toward her. “Hey. You’d just used superhuman abilities to stop his weird little shellfish army from. . . doing whatever weird little shellfish armies do. He was pissed off. And he was worried about you. We all were, when you left. I guess he thought he was doing you a favor. People like us, they’re not heroes, well . . . they tend to go the other way. He’s living that life. I don’t think he’d wish it on anybody else.”
    “He really did become a supervillain,” said Velma, shaking her head. “I’m fine, Aaron. Honest. I’m not planning to go crazy and level a city. I doubt I could, unless the city had sixteen toy factories or something. I could probably hold the North Pole for ransom, except Santa likes me. He’d just offer me a job.”
    “Vel, please. This is serious.”
    “Right. I’m supposed to believe that Marketing pulled their most popular hero—the hero who just happens to be my one and only ex-boyfriend—out of the field because my former teammates were ‘worried’ about me. A concept which requires me to believe that Yelena was worried about me. Or did you forget that she tried to kill me before I left the team? Yeah, from the look on your face, I guess you tried to put all that behind you. Well, I’m not buying it. Why are you here , Aaron?”
    “You know why.”
    “Say it.”
    “Marketing wants you back,” he said.
    Velma closed her eyes.
    *
    Six years ago. Six days before Velveteen’s eighteenth birthday. Six days before Velma Martinez stood up and took her life back. But in that moment, she was still Velveteen, still a well-trained, thoroughly-brainwashed company girl, sitting polite and puzzled in the Marketing office. She’d been in the middle of a training session when they called for her, testing her powers to see how broken toys could be before she lost the ability to call them back to life. She was reasonably sure she’d be dreaming of zombie teddy bears out for brains for the next week, but it had still been educational. She was definitely improving. Action Dude would be so proud of her.
    The man from Marketing smiled magnanimously, his hands folded together on the desk between them. She had a vague idea that she was meant to take his position as comforting and fatherly. Maybe it would have worked if she’d ever had the sort of father she took comfort in. “Now, Velveteen. We’ve all been very impressed with your dedication to your teammates, and to The Super Patriots. You can bet that the people upstairs are all very impressed, and very much hoping that you’ll consider taking at least an auxiliary position with one of the adult teams after your birthday.”
    “Thank you, sir,” she said, still puzzled, still striving to be polite. She’d learned over the years that understanding Marketing was nowhere near as important as avoiding upsetting them. “That’s very good to hear.”
    “There’s just one little thing that we’ve been wanting to discuss with you. It’s minor, but it could have a fairly major impact on the salability and image of the team. Since you’re such a team player, we know that you’ll understand.”
    Her confusion growing, Velveteen frowned. “Sir?”
    “We here at The Super Patriots, Inc. have worked hard to maintain a good