by Drew Hayes
Camille ascended the steps of the lecture hall, so absorbed in her thoughts that she nearly jumped a foot in the air when a well-manicured hand snaked out from an aisle and grabbed her arm.
“Gah!”
“Whoa, relax,” Alice assured her. “I was calling your name, didn’t you hear me?”
“Oh, I, uh, I guess not,” Camille stammered out as her heart thundered in her chest.
“Sorry about that,” Alice apologized. “I just wanted to get your attention before you went past. There are plenty of seats by me.”
“Right, of course,” Camille said as the adrenaline exited her system. She entered the row Alice was perched in and took a seat to her left. It wasn’t exactly the anonymous background she’d craved, but at least it wasn’t Vince. “So, how was your first day? I haven’t seen you since our... since Professor Baker’s class.”
“It was okay,” Alice replied. “I think Professor Pendleton’s will be my worst. I mean, I’m not really good at any of them, but at least the others have outlined syllabi and stationary classrooms.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that is one of the tougher subjects to excel in,” Camille replied.
“No worries there. I’m pretty sure he expects most of us to fail out of it by year’s end, which is fine by me. The hard part will be deciding which of the other two I want to try and squeak by in.”
“I’m sure it isn’t that bad. I mean, you made it to year two, after all.”
Alice sighed. “I did, but I’m still not sure if I would have if I’d gone through the normal channels.” Alice paused for a moment and seemed to steady herself mentally. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be such a bummer. I guess all the stress of things is already getting to me.”
“It’s a problem I certainly understand,” Camille assured her.
“You know what the biggest issue is? It’s been all work since we got here. Even last weekend was a training exercise. I think we need to take a night off, just do activities that have nothing to do with... well, you know.” Alice had almost said ‘HCP’ out loud, a slip that easily would have ended all of her worries about it if she’d been overheard.
“That sounds nice,” Camille said, her tone as noncommittal as she could manage. She didn’t have the heart to tell Alice that any night spent around Vince wasn’t going to reduce her stress level, even if the activities were relaxing.
“Oh! I’ve got it,” Alice said, a spark of excitement lighting in her bright blue eyes. “Let’s do a girls’ night this Friday. Just me, you, Mary, and maybe some of the others. No training, no shop talk, we’ll even skip our afternoon classes and go do a mani/pedi treatment.”
“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” Camille objected.
“Oh, don’t worry, it’s the first week of classes, what’s the most we could miss? And I know a perfect little place near the ocean. I’ll make us reservations as soon as class is over.”
“I should really check my calendar,” Camille tried again.
“That’s a good idea; if you don’t have a class that runs too late in the morning we can get lunch, too. We can practically make a whole day of it!”
Camille took a deep breath and tried to think of another excuse to throw up. Unfortunately she was learning the hard lesson that Mary had been privy to last year. Alice may not have much in the way of special abilities, but once her mind was set on something, one would have better luck changing the course of a river.
“Sounds... fun,” Camille conceded. It wouldn’t be that bad. It was just the girls after all, and they were going to be teammates now so a little bonding was in order.
“It will be, just wait, by the time Saturday rolls around we won’t have a care left in the world.”
“Except for the coming week, and the one after that, and the one after that, et cetera,” Camille pointed out.
“Well, yes, but you can’t let all of that snow pile on you. Or, if you must, you have to at least put it aside for our days off,” Alice replied.
“Days? As in multiple?”
“Of course, we’ll need more than just this over the coming year. Don’t worry; they won’t all be girls only. I just don’t want Nick to hijack our relaxation plans into some sort of ridiculous shenanigans.”
“He does that often, huh?”
“Ugh, more than you would believe. You’ll see for yourself soon, the boy is absolutely insufferable.”
Camille didn’t have a chance to reply because the professor stepped up to address the class, but even if he hadn’t she wouldn’t have known what to say next. She certainly couldn’t say what she was thinking, which was that for a girl who slandered Nick so readily, Alice seemed to light up noticeably when she talked about him.
That would be inappropriate, not to mention that Camille was the last person who ought to call someone out over conflicting feelings.
20.
Julia was halfway to her dorm when the tall, muscular figure fell into step beside her. She could smell him almost immediately, no frilly body wash or sickly sweet cologne; his was the smell of freshly scrubbed hard work. It set her teeth on edge before she ever turned to face him. Julia had managed a fling or two over the summer, but nothing that put her through the metaphorical (and one time literal) wall like he could.
“Afternoon, pretty lady,” Roy greeted, an easygoing smile stretched out amidst the afternoon stubble on his face.
Julia’s tongue nearly betrayed her, smashing against her teeth to usher a familiar greeting, a bubbly laugh, or just an immediate invitation to the nearest secluded place she could find. Her brain prevailed, clamping down on the friendly muscle and issuing new orders, ones that were not optional to comply with.
“Get lost, freak,” Julia spat, her libido raging internally.
“Now, that doesn’t seem like a neighborly greeting,” Roy replied, his grin unfaltered. “Sure you wouldn’t like to try again?”
“Fuck off.” Julia quickened her step, determined to make the travel run out before her self control did. She hated herself for even feeling the temptation. Yes, she’d enjoyed her time with Roy, and yes, they’d had tons of fun together, and sure, she might have developed some feelings for him over the past year. But none of that mattered. She couldn’t be the girl rolling around with a Powered. What would the other students say? Or, heaven forbid, what if her parents ever found out? No, she had to be done with Roy Daniels. Done with his stupid muscles, done with his handsome face, done with the way he bit her gently at the crux of her collarbone while his strong hand wrapped around the small of back and he... Julia refocused herself and increased her gait even more.
“You sure about this?” Roy asked as Julia’s walk began to verge on sprinting. No, she wasn’t, and she desperately wanted to turn around and pretend it had all been a joke. She plowed forward instead. Soon she’d be away from him and the frustration she was feeling would be nothing more than a barbed memory that time and forgetfulness would smooth until it was bearable. Somewhere deep down, a part of Julia recognized that it wasn’t just her sexual desires railing at her for this choice, but a part buried under so much fear that its voice had no hope of rising to audibility.
Roy watched the blonde hustle toward her dorm and ceased his own walk. He’d suspected such a greeting when she refused to make eye contact with him in their classes, but he’d been hopeful a little personal attention would change her mind. It looked like he was wrong. Such a shame; Julia really had been one of Roy’s favorites, holding his attention for over a year. A normal man might have taken such a dismissal by a girl so formerly enraptured with him as a blow to the ego.
With a swift turn, Roy headed back toward his own dorm, jogging ahead slightly to chat with a pair of coeds who weren’t a part of the HCP. Roy Daniels was not a normal man, and he had no intention of letting one chick get him down. Roy might be a freak underground, but up on the surface he still considered himself the big dog on campus.
* * *
“You’re still stressed,” Alex a
ccused. He and Selena were sitting in her room, dining on a pizza. Selena sighed and set her third slice back in the box. If she was going to take the calories from it she was sure as hell going to enjoy it, and it seemed that meant talking things out first.
“Yeah, Alex, I am. My boyfriend sided with the school’s collection of weirdoes in front of everyone. Can you see how that might be a little awkward for me?”
“We talked about this,” Alex defended. “They’re my friends and they’re good people. Who they used to be shouldn’t matter.”
“Shouldn’t is the keyword there,” Selena replied. “A lot of things shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter that my dad’s skin is caramel-colored instead of ivory, yet he still gets passed over for a promotion every year. Just because something shouldn’t matter doesn’t mean it won’t.”
“So that makes it all right? To treat them differently because of how they were born?”
“No, of course it doesn’t, but... Alex, I told you at the beginning of the year that I supported you sticking with them. I still do. But let’s not pretend that it’s some effortless choice without consequences. There is going to be blowback from taking their side, on you for doing it and on me for staying with you.”
“So you think it was a mistake,” Alex said, half question and half accusation.
“No, not at all. I’m not saying the repercussions should change your mind; I’m just saying we shouldn’t pretend they aren’t there. So, yes, I’m stressed, because some people I counted as friends were assholes to me today. It’s going to happen, and probably more often than less. I’m okay with it.” Selene leaned across the cardboard container and kissed Alex gently, ending with a second light smooch on the corner of his mouth.
“You made your choice and I made mine. Just don’t call me out on the stuff I’m trying to downplay. Pretend you’re not telepathic every once and a while,” Selena said softly.
“That should be easy enough,” Alex agreed. “After all, I’m not a telepath.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Selena said, kissing him once more for good measure. That accomplished, she turned her attention back to the greasy, cheese-covered, fat-laden pizza slice calling up at her from the box below. She was going to have to run an extra half-hour tomorrow not to feel guilty about this. Her teeth tore through the first melty bite and flavor flooded her mouth.
Totally worth it.
21.
Nick had solved the puzzle from Subtlety before his first afternoon class was done. It wasn’t all that hard, provided one had a basic level of pattern recognition and a head for numbers. No, the interesting part had been the second layer of it, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it, where a number equivalency substitution spelled out a separate code from the location-based one. This bit of information instructed the deciphering student to show up in a separate room twenty minutes prior to the start of class. It was clearly meant only for the overachievers to find, a test within a test to see who had the goods and who had the greats.
Nick felt his interest in Professor Pendleton rising even as he debated whether or not he should show up. It would mark him as intelligent and capable, two descriptors he worked adamantly to keep away from his character, but at the same time, it seemed Subtlety was his best bet for surviving into the next year. He was skilled at Ranged Combat, of course, and Weapons had gone well, however he’d easily been outstripped by those with abilities more rooted in the physical world. No, if he was going to make it past this year’s cuts it would have to be in Subtlety, and he did want to get as much training as possible before the descent of the proverbial axe. Still, it compromised the uselessness that he worked so hard to convey to the others, and while his secret might be blown to his own team, it was still an element of surprise he could utilize against others in the competitions.
The risk-to-reward ratio was high, but Nicholas Campbell wasn’t feared at every poker table in Las Vegas because he lacked the ability to make the hard choices. That thought put a smile on his face as a new plan coalesced in his mind. He didn’t really have to make a choice. All he had to do was outfox Professor Pendleton at his own game. That seemed a far more fitting way to demonstrate his skill in the course anyway.
Mind at ease, Nick went about working out the logistics for his plan. He only had the morning to act, but given the general disarray of such a period, he was confident he could pull it off with relative simplicity. He didn’t notice it, but he wore a grin as he worked. For the first time since he arrived at Lander, Nick wasn’t just running a con or sneaking by: he was issuing a challenge. The prospect of a genuine opponent couldn’t help but excite him.
* * *
Professor Pendleton opened the door to the classroom to find it jammed full of students. He’d secured this room, anticipating a three- or four-person maximum attendance. The code he’d buried in the back of the syllabus wasn’t exactly government-level encryption, but for sophomore students not even looking for it, only the most adept minds would even be alerted. That said, the moment he heard the buzz of noise it was evident something had gone horribly wrong.
The ruckus subsided as soon as Professor Pendleton’s lean body stalked through the door. He surveyed the faces before him and confirmed, to his horror, that everyone enrolled in his course was here. He took a deep breath and analyzed the situation calmly. There was no way all of them successfully decoded the message of the early meeting. That left the next logical explanation.
“Perhaps I failed to properly explain,” Professor Pendleton began, his voice even only thanks to his remarkable self-control. “The point of these exercises is to develop your own minds and skills. To that effect, collusion is greatly looked down upon in this class. Now, I’m sure the few of you who cracked the code only wanted to help a person or two each, to make your friends stand out, but as you can see, this is what happens when such behavior is indulged.”
“Um, what are you talking about, professor?” Alice asked uncertainly. She was seated at the front of the room, hand eagerly raised even to convey this informal query.
“The hidden message in yesterday’s puzzle that was clearly disseminated too freely,” Professor Pendleton replied.
“What message?”
“The one that told you to come here.”
“You mean the note?” Alice reached into her pocket and produced a folded piece of computer paper. Professor Pendleton snatched it from her hand, unfolded and began scanning through its contents.
“We all found them in our bags and uniform pockets this morning,” Alice added helpfully.
Professor Pendleton heard but didn’t acknowledge her; he was too absorbed in analyzing the document before him. It claimed to be a note from him, instructing the students to meet in this room at this time to discuss key changes to the syllabus. It hadn’t been signed, but of course the students would believe documents snuck onto their person could only have been accomplished by the teacher of the Subtlety class. There was nothing unique about the ink or paper. If he had to guess, it was likely the same used in the library above-ground. Someone had been thorough and thoughtful.
Professor Pendleton refolded the note and handed it back to Alice. He might not know who the culprit was, but he was able to recognize a shot across the bow. Someone was calling him out. He suppressed a smirk that tried to manifest itself at the thought that there might actually be some talent in his group after all.
“Everyone get to the classroom,” Professor Pendleton instructed them. “I’d try to split you up so only the ones who solved the puzzle could find it, however, at this point I don’t care. Just go. I’ll be in shortly.”
“What about the syllabus changes?” Alice asked.
“You found a mysterious note on your person and blindly trusted that it was from who it indicated,” Professor Pendleton said. “That is expertly idiotic, and the only reason I’m not dropping down on all of you like a hammer is because I don’t have any way to truthfully delineate who came here on their own and who only c
ame because of the note. That said, Miss Adair, if you insist on asking such a relentlessly stupid question as to why I’m throwing you all out, after being clearly surprised by a note that I supposedly wrote, then maybe your day would best be spent focusing on one of the classes you have a better chance of still being enrolled in come next year.”
“I... I’m sorry,” Alice said softly, ducking her head down and all but bounding out of the classroom. The others followed at a respectful distance, none of them daring to pipe up after his unloading on the tall blonde girl.
As they filed out, Professor Pendleton reflected that he might have been harsher than intended. Still, the message was an important one. This might not be as physically-oriented of a major as the others, but it still demanded the same levels of excellence. Failing to analyze a situation or piece together details, even only once, could have just as disastrous consequences as failing to stop a speeding bus or catch a falling plane.
Better those who couldn’t cut it turn their eyes elsewhere sooner rather than later. It seemed that wasn’t the whole class, however. One of his students wanted to challenge Professor Pendleton and see what the old man was made of. He ran his index finger and thumb across his chin as he contemplated. He’d teach today’s class as planned. After that, it was time for a little detective work.
22.
By Friday’s end most of the HCP sophomores were aching for the weekend, their minds nearly as shredded as their bodies had felt at this time last year. They’d expected many things from the program, many obstacles to face. Of all things they’d braced for, the absolute plethora of studying was the one that took most of them by surprise.