Free The Nameless Hero by Lee Bacon

window was looking out onto the cratered surface of the moon. Another click and the moon was gone, replaced by a landscape of snow-topped mountains, a stone castle nestled into the side of a faraway cliff.
    “There are hundreds of possibilities,” Brandy said. “All with the push of a button.”
    “Awesome!” Milton said. “Do the windows get cable?”
    Brandy chuckled. “Yes, you can watch regular TV too.”
    Milton looked like he was about to kick back and start channel surfing, but Brandy had something else in mind.
    “We’ll have your luggage delivered in a few minutes,” she said. “But for now, if you’ll follow me out into the main facility, I believe the Smicks should be arriving soon.”
    “Who’re the Smicks?” I asked.
    “The uniform designers. And just a word of warning … When you meet them, try not to stare.”
    “Stare? Why would we stare?”
    Brandy looked at me like she knew something I didn’t. I was getting used to that look. “You’ll see.”

10
    Brandy called everyone together except nFinity. Since he already had a uniform, there was no need for him to meet with the Smicks (although I got the impression that Sophie would’ve liked to have him along). As Brandy led us back through the series of all-white hallways and chambers, I looked up at the tiny surveillance cameras, wondering who was watching on the other end.
    When we reached the main room, Gavin was already there, talking with the Smicks. The designers were huddled closely together—weirdly close, actually. Almost like the three of them were taking part in a big group hug.
    It wasn’t until they turned to face us that I realized the Smicks weren’t hugging. They were … 
connected
.
    Our uniform designers were Siamese triplets.
    Despite Brandy’s warning, I couldn’t help staring. Eachwas connected to the other by the torso, meaning that they had three heads, two arms, and six legs—all stretched across three bodies. They were wearing a customized black turtleneck sweater that fit all three of them. And they weren’t identical. In fact, they looked about as different from each other as possible.
    Gavin introduced us.
    There was Helmi, the tall, slender woman who was at the left end of the trio. Like the other two, she looked around fifty years old. She had a long, arched nose that seemed to sniff down at everything and everyone (including her two siblings) with disdain.
    On the far right was Gertrude, a short, plump woman with puckered lips and a nose that looked like a turnip.
    And between them was Mortimer. He wasn’t quite as tall and slender as Helmi, and not quite as short and fat as Gertrude. He had big, bulging eyes that darted from left to right, as if he were never quite sure where to look.
    “I
loooove
what you’ve done with the place,” Gertrude droned to Gavin, glancing calmly at the blank white walls around her.
    “Less is more,” added Helmi. “In this case,
much
less.”
    “But we’re not here for your underground facility,” Mortimer said.
    “So?” Helmi looked down her long nose at Gavin. “Where are they?”
    Gavin pointed to us. “Ladies and gentleman, I present to you … the Alliance of the Impossible!”
    As if they hadn’t noticed us standing beside them all this time, the triplets turned to look in our direction. Three heads, six eyes, all coldly gazing our way.
    “Them?” Helmi sniffed.
    “Goodness!” Gertrude said. “They get younger every time, don’t they, Gavin?”
    “They might be young,” Gavin said, “but they’re all supremely talented. The best in the country.”
    After a long pause, Mortimer finally spoke: “I suppose we can come up with
something
.”
    “It would be a shame for future generations of superheroes to go out looking like
that
.” Helmi curled her lip at the clothes we were wearing.
    Gavin led the Smicks to the room where the designers would do their work. The triplets moved surprisingly well, considering all six of their legs had to walk