Free Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm a Supervillain by Richard Roberts

into the wall. “Okay, flip them back on!”
    Ray ran down to the circuit breaker box open and exposed at the far end of the lab. Whoever’d taken out Baron Overlord had ripped out his machinery and the power outlets they were attached to, but left the wiring in the walls intact. I was sitting pretty. I should be sitting pretty. We were about to find out.
    He flipped the switches, the ceiling lights turned on, and my outlet failed to burst into flame. I stuck the volt meter sensors into the holes. 121 volts. Success!
    I jumped to my feet, slapped The Machine back onto my wrist, and dragged over the metal press. I’d never used one while I was completely conscious, but the idea seemed simple enough. I plugged it into the socket, grabbed a copper rod from the pile of raw materials, stuck it into the gap, and pulled the lever. Thunk. Clank! Half a copper rod hit the floor.
    I slapped my palm against Ray’s. “YES! It works just like it says in the book. It’s even easier than it looks!”
    He grabbed a traditional screwdriver, then walked back over to the circuit breaker box. “We need more light. I’ll turn off one breaker, and you can find which outlets that makes safe.”
    The elevator whirred, and a few seconds later the gates opened and Claire stepped in. “You look like you’re in a good mood,” she told me immediately.
    I gave a little shrug. “Mr. Zwelf told me to expect an F if I use The Machine as my science fair project. I can’t dress it up to look like an experiment. I’m gonna do it anyway.”
    Ray winced.
    “Ow,” Claire echoed.
    “Don’t worry. I’m fine, because I did this during Art. Watch!” I unzipped my backpack and pulled out my box of pencils, paperclips, and random stationary crud. I only used them once in a blue moon, but I hated not having a thumbtack when I needed one. You could do a lot with a thumbtack.
    Don’t think about it. I reached in, picked up two thumbtacks, and used the jaws of The Machine to crimp them together. Then I put them down on the floor, sticking off from each other at an angle, and spun them.
    They kept spinning, whirling around in a blur without falling down or sliding away.
    “What did you just do?” Claire asked, crouching down to squint at it.
    “I built a simple gyroscope. I think. I don’t know!” I threw up my hands and started to giggle.
    Ray knew why I was laughing. “But you meant to do it!” He looked around. “We have to get this place fixed up fast. You’re going to need tools before the week is over.”
    “I controlled my power for less than ten seconds, Ray. We’ve still got a few weeks,” I corrected him. A few weeks. Oh, man! Let it be that soon!
    Claire, smarter than either Ray or me sometimes, announced, “These wires over here have no power.”
    I knelt down between the two of them and walked them through the process of securing the hot, neutral, and ground wires, and wonder of wonders both outlets had screw holes to fasten into place. We all flinched as Ray flipped the breaker back on, but my laboratory again failed to erupt in flames. It must be a mad scientist record.
    Not that I was a mad scientist. I just felt very giggly as we plugged in my dad’s water knife table and flipped the switch. I could barely hear the hissing as the stream of water shot from overhead pump into the hole in the workbench.
    “What is that?” Claire asked, doubt creeping into her voice.
    “You’ve never seen a water knife?” I asked. I just had to keep the grin off my face as I picked up a shiny iron pipe from the pile of parts The Machine left me with, and waved it through the stream of water. I didn’t even feel the resistance as the knife sliced it in two, but Claire let out a squeak of shock when the other half fell onto the work table with a clonk, rolled off the end, and fell to the floor with a louder clonk.
    “That was amazing. You’ll be able to build anything with this kind of equipment,” Claire wheezed, leaning against the wall