By me, with art by Sam Messerly.
Click here to read from the beginning.
The living leather suit slipped up and around my body, wrapping around me, sliding over my clothes and shirt and arms. It was an intensely strange feeling, warm and creepy, and I had to fight the urge to struggle. Colander was definitely squirming beside me as she went through the same treatment. Despite the warmth of the skin, I shivered several times. As the leather proceeded up my body towards my head, a flap rose and two strands swung around the sides of my skull, covering my eyes with a transparent barrier. I slapped at the goggle-like apparatus that now covered my eyes, and then furtively pulled my hands away.
And when I did, the world changed. Finally I could see the tower, which had been swaying gently beneath Warbell’s feet all this time. It was the strangest building I had ever seen. I was expecting something made from steel and concrete, but instead I was greeted by an almost net-like structure of ropy, pastel-colored tubes. I don’t know what else to call them. It seemed like the whole shebang was gently weaving and moving, all the walls composed of those same tubes, letting the air pass through the gaps as if nothing was in the way. The floors were solid, but visibly gave a little under Warbell’s weight. The sections of floor seemed to be connected by some kind of blue-green membrane stretched between the ropy tubes. Stairs also ran up into the distance, made from the same ropes, and above I could see another dark blue-green membrane acting as a ceiling. As I watched, the ropes and columns composing the walls contorted out of the way for passing birds, and even some of the membranes snapped open to let through a passing cloud.
“You can’t really hide up here, since everyone can see you walking in the sky,” said Warbell, “Unless you use your invisibility. Which you can. Both of you can get down off of me now, too.”
Warbell crouched, and Colander and I slipped off and landed on the translucent membrane. Part of me was afraid the membrane would snap open beneath my feet, but nothing happened—I just felt it give a little under my weight.
“So what happens now?” I asked.
“You need to learn how to use your new dinosaur suits,” said Warbell. “I was fond of that patch of skin and flesh, so please take care of it for me. If I ever get a chance to see Thinkwilder again, I will definitely have a few complaints to lay at his feet—because trust me, this IS skin off my back, so to speak. The leather-suit plot was Thinkwilder’s idea and his design. Believe me, it’s as weird for me as it is for you.”
“How do we use our monster suits?” asked Colander. “I feel like some kind of weird R-rated superhero. Oh!”
Colander reacted and slapped at the back of her neck. I felt something, too—some kind of sting at the base of my skull—and I yelped.
“You should have a physical connection to your suits now,” said Warbell. “The suits are now hardwired to your brains. I am sorry I didn’t warn you about this earlier. I realize setting you up with living suits that surgically attach to your brainstems probably counts as a crime of some sort in your world, and you also most likely feel very much personally invaded, but in this case we don’t have time to train you in the use of any kind of analog method to control their functions. This way, just think it and the suits will do as you ask, within certain parameters.”
“Do what?” I asked. “What are our superpowers?”
“You can fly, turn invisible, shoot green fireballs—though not many and not very fast,” Warbell said. “You can change colors if you want to. Turn on and off your skin so that the tower will drop you. Translate dinosaur speech. Monitor your vitals. Just think about it, and the skins will react.”
Warbell winked at us and winced, flexing a pulled muscle.
“You are now superhuman,” he said.