by Drew Hayes
“If you considered yourself a telepath then I’d take that as a compliment,” Nick said. “As is, I’ll just appreciate the willingness to view me in a new light. I’ll even tell you what: how about before we go over my ideas for prepping for multiple types of challenges, you listen to my overview of our situation? If you think I don’t have a comprehensive grasp on what we’re facing then I’ll happily abdicate my newly-acquired duties.”
“That sounds more than fair,” Alex agreed, taking a seat next to Vince. Camille slipped into a chair over near the door where she had a good view but was difficult to see.
“Good,” Nick said, stepping forward from his leaning position and taking command of the attention in the room. “I’d like to start with a simple overview of our chances as we are at this given moment, and with the most recent knowledge of Britney’s team that I have.” Nick paused and thought of how to best articulate this message that would convey a firm grasp of the situation to his teammates.
“To put it succinctly: we’re fucked.”
25.
“Would you care to elaborate?” Mary prodded as the others merely stared at Nick silently. They’d grown a bit too used to his pageantry to be surprised by such declarations anymore. Nick nodded his agreement and produced a set of playing cards from his pocket. He sat down in front of the coffee table and dutifully began setting out one card after another until he had displayed seven different cards in a line, face up.
“Let’s go with a more visual explanation,” Nick said. “Each of these cards represents a member of Britney’s team. The numbered cards represent non-combat abilities, while the face cards represent fighting prowess. Higher is, of course, more powerful.”
“So there are three Jacks,” Vince noted.
“Michael, Allen, and Hector,” Nick said. “All three at the lowest level of combat skill when compared to the rest of the class.”
“That leaves a nine, two sixes, and an eight,” Alice observed.
“Correct,” Nick confirmed. “This only takes into account the usefulness of the super abilities of the person in question, not any other extraordinary qualities they may possess. So the nine is Adam, the eight is Britney, and the sixes are Gilbert and Terrance.”
“That doesn’t seem bad at all,” Roy said.
“Oh? That’s my fault, then. I should have given you a standard of comparison.” Nick began doling cards out again, this time face down, one to each person in the room. He placed one down in front of himself and sat back down.
“Only a Jack? That’s bullshit,” Roy declared after immediately turning his over. “I’m in the top five of the men’s class.”
“So is Michael – who was initially higher than you at that - but I gave him a Jack, too,” Nick pointed out.
“I guess that would make me one as well,” Vince said, flipping his own card over to indeed reveal a Jack.
“If we’re so weak then who in the class has those higher cards?” Roy demanded.
“There are a few Queens, but I’ll tell you this: since I evaluate people based on the scale derived from only the skill levels present in our class, there is only person at the top of the heap. There is only one King.”
“Chad,” Camille said softly.
“Bingo, give the girl a prize,” Nick confirmed. “The only people we’ve seen bring him down were professors.”
“I can accept that Chad is at the top, but no way that I’m still on the bottom rung,” Roy insisted.
“My evaluations are made from the latest data I have. Show me something to change my mind in our match and I’ll happily hand you a new card,” Nick offered.
“Fine,” Roy said succinctly.
“I’m a nine?” The voice asking wasn’t loud but it was audible and familiar all the same.
“Of course. Healing is a ridiculously useful power in almost any scenario. The only person with a more useful non-fighting power is Rich,” Nick said.
“Oh, fuck you!” Alice yelled, jumping up from her seat. “A four? The girl who turns invisible is an eight but I’m only a fucking four? You can be such an asshole.”
“Alice-” Vince said, trying to get her attention.
“No, don’t defend him. I know I’m not the best among us, but I’ve been a little useful. My four of a power was enough to save his life.”
“Alice-” Vince tried again.
“I mean, I’m not deluded or anything. I just hate being publicly branded as the weakest, most ineffectual of the team like this.”
“Alice, look at Nick’s card,” Mary commanded. Her instructions penetrated where Vince’s kindness had failed and Alice swept her eyes to the small rectangle of plastic set before Nick. During her rant he had flipped it over, revealing a two of spades for all to see.
“Like I said before,” Nick said in the sudden silence that descended. “I only took powers into account in these evaluation systems. It doesn’t reflect anything about the wiles or capabilities of the person outside of those confines.”
“You really think you’re only a two?” Vince asked.
“I know it. My power, while strong enough to get me here, is unpredictable at best. That means it can’t be relied on consistently so it has very limited application in any competitive scenario. That does not, however, mean I consider myself to be useless.”
“Oh,” Alice said as comprehension dawned. “I’m sorry.”
“Honesty comes with hurt feelings,” Nick said. “That’s part of why I avoid it.”
“Hey, why do Alex and I have aces?” Mary asked. “I thought everyone was either a number or a face card.”
“Most everyone is. But there are a few people whose powers are extremely useful both in and out of combat. Since an ace can represent either the top of the card progression or the bottom, I felt it was a good symbol of those with dual function,” Nick explained. “In terms of just fighting ability, Mary is a Queen and Alex is a Jack.”
“Sounds about right,” Alex agreed before anyone could raise hell at Mary’s placement above the others.
“Now, set your cards down in front of the other team and tell me what you see,” Nick told them.
They complied, and it was Mary who drew the obvious conclusion.
“In a straight-up fight it seems like we have the advantage.”
“We don’t have an advantage, we have a slaughter,” Nick corrected. “Not only do we have an additional member of our team with fighting capabilities, that person is a Queen. Add on the healer and they’d have no shot in hell if this were a brawl.”
“So how does that make us fucked then?” Alice asked.
“Because our advantage is so disproportional we know that it won’t be that type of event. It wouldn’t teach either group anything and it wouldn’t force us to use our heads,” Nick explained. “By the same token, since they outclass us so seriously in the non-combat side, we know it won’t be purely about avoidance, either. No, the only kind of event they could match us in where we start on even ground is one where the strategies could be either battle- or tactically-based. That way each team can choose a strategy best suited to their strengths and the better of the two will win.”
“So again, why are we in trouble?” Roy asked.
“Because their team is composed of lots of people who are used to having to outthink their opponents,” Alex realized. “They’re better on their feet than most of us. So if it comes down to a game of who can come up with the best strategy on the fly...”
“Exactly,” Nick said. “I can give us a starting plan once we know what the test is, but a necessity in this type of situation is adapting as things change, and if we have to splinter that will put several of you on your own.”
“So how do we close the gap then?” Vince asked, eyes already twinkling at the prospect of a new challenge.
“We learn to think in teams,” Nick replied. “Circle up close, everyone, because this next part will affect us in every match for the rest of the year.”
26.
The four-bedroom house was located in a development populated almost entirely by homes rented out to students at Lander. In fact, it was so synonymous with the college that the cluster of blocks by the school was called “Lander Lounge” by the locals, both for the type of renter it brought in and for the generous amount of parties thrown in the vicinity. The houses were kept to code, in some cases just barely, but they were affordable and as such had very little in the way of frills. Still, this particular house was well-cared for. It had a fresh coat of paint and the carpets were vacuumed daily. These features spoke less of the owner of the house and more of the tenants who had moved in this year.
Jill, Will, and Sasha clustered around the kitchen table, a set of playing cards before them and a bottle of tequila in the center. Jill slammed her drink and set the empty shot glass upside down on the table.
“Gah! Wow, that is some awful stuff.”
“You’re the one who insisted we pre-game before going out,” Will reminded her.
“Well, yeah, we’re all too young to get served so we’ve got to get our drink on ahead of time,” Jill said, slurping down her beer to drown out the tequila’s twang in her mouth.
“You know, I keep meaning to ask you about that,” Sasha said, her own voice slurring slightly. “Between the two of you, I’d think making a fake I.D. would be nothing.”
“It would be,” Will confirmed. “But I won’t do it.”
“Why not? We’re already drinking underage.”
“In a controlled environment with my roommates in the area should anything go wrong and a designated driver already arranged,” Will replied. “This is a level of risk I find acceptable. Engaging in these activities without such a fail-safe in place is another matter.”
“That’s my brother the worrier,” Jill said, giving Will a side hug.
“It is merely an evaluation of risk versus reward,” Will said. “At any rate, Sasha, it is your turn.”
Sasha pulled a face-down card from the circle, revealing a four. “Fours is whores: girls drink,” she declared. Both she and Jill poured themselves half shots and threw them back. The wincing was excessive.
A door shut as Thomas emerged from the basement. They’d kept the lower floor bare except for some free weights and a punching bag. It was their area to work out without the use of powers. Thomas had been down there for an hour and a half, emerging in a black tank top that was soaked thoroughly with sweat.
“Boyscout!” Jill yelled by way of greeting. “Come drink with us!”
“Eagle Scout, actually,” Thomas corrected her. “And I’m not much of a drinker. I’d thought the same of you, too, Will.”
“Normally, no, but I am testing a pill I designed to block alcohol from being absorbed into the bloodstream. Instead it is merely excreted without any effect on the user’s body,” Will explained. “Stella will be joining us after her shower and Violet has agreed to drive tonight if you’d like to go out dancing with us.”
“I think I very well might,” Thomas said, opening the fridge and pouring himself cold water from the pitcher. He, Violet, Stella, and Will had decided to live together at the year’s inception. Camille had originally been invited in Will’s spot, but she had elected to get a single room in a dorm on campus. Thomas wasn’t totally certain why she’d made that choice, but he suspected it had to do with the safety the familiar setting offered and her timid nature.
“Excellent. We haven’t gone out as a large group since... last year,” Will said, catching himself in time. He drew a card to change the subject, a three – “Three is me,” he announced. He poured himself a shot and kicked it back with minimal grimacing.
“You can say it, Will. We haven’t done much as a group since we found out those freaks were lying to us,” Sasha all but spat.
“Not the way I would have phrased it, but yes, that is the event I was referring to,” Will concurred.
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter anymore,” Sasha said. “This is their last year here, anyway.”
“You suspect their team will perform poorly?” Will asked.
“Of course they will. They’re just a bunch of fucking Powereds. When Britney and her crew get a hold of them, they’ll be lucky if they can all piss out the right hole once it’s over.”
“Perhaps Sasha has had enough to drink,” Thomas cautioned.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Sasha said, waving him off. “I’m just saying what we’re all hoping. Once that team shows how worthless it is, those shits will be kicked out and the name of Hero will stay clean.”
“Sasha, you need to relax,” Jill told her former suitemate.
“Oh, come on, like you want to live in a world where Powereds can become Heroes any more than I do. I’d rather live in a world where donkeys can become presidents.”
“That is enough,” Thomas said, his tone no longer hemmed by politeness. “Now, ignoring the fact that we have two very good, non-Powered friends on that team you are wishing such ill upon, your remarks are still prejudiced and ignorant beyond what can be reasonably tolerated.”
“I was just saying-”
“You’ve said plenty, Sasha, now it is time to listen,” Thomas scolded. “We’ve been patient with your attitude; we all had to go through an adjustment period as well. And we understand that the lie cut you deeper than us because of your involvement with Vince. However, you need to recognize that the company you keep is more sympathetic with that group than hateful. If you want to curse them up and down the street then there are other social groups that will join you in that sentiment. This is not one of them.”
“Fine, then! If you prefer the freaks then I’d rather not be around you anyway,” Sasha yelled, rising from the table to leave.
“Don’t bother; I’ll leave you to your drinking. I’ve lost my desire to go out on the town tonight,” Thomas said, finishing off his water. “But when you sober up, there is one thing I want you to think about.”
“What?”
“You’re so focused on Vince lying to you and the betrayal you feel over that; have you ever stopped to really ask yourself why he did it?”
“’Cause he’s a lying asshole, just like every other man,” Sasha snapped back.
“If you really believe that after a year together, I think this breakup just might have been the best thing that could have ever happened. For both of you,” Thomas said, walking up the stairs before the fight could turn uglier and setting his course for the shower.
Jill drew her card in the silence that followed as Sasha slumped back into her chair.
“Um, I got a four, so girls-”
Sasha grabbed the bottle and put it to her lips before Jill could even finish. Will sighed and wondered if it was unethical to slip her one of his new anti-drunk pills. Otherwise he had a feeling it would be a very long night.
27.
Nick arrived at Wednesday’s Subtlety class to find the room empty, save for two chairs. He observed the lack of classmates, gave a half-hearted shrug, and then took one of the seats. A few minutes later, Professor Pendleton walked in and plopped down in the other one.
“Gave me a different puzzle, huh?”
“Yep,” Professor Pendleton confirmed. “The others were sent to a classroom with a set of problems on the board and instructions to solve them before I arrive.”
“They might notice I’m not there,” Nick pointed out.
“They might indeed,” Professor Pendleton agreed. “That’s really more your problem. Much like someone destroying my test to see who the really swift people were was my problem.”
“Oh yeah, I remember that. Strange that someone would do that.”
Professor Pendleton cocked his head to the side. “Really? You’re going waste my time with the innocent routine?”
“Never admit to any crime until you know what you’re being charged with,” Nick replied, his body language relaxed and his smile unwavering. Professor Pendleton wasn’t sure what to make of this kid. Even after seeing the tapes of Nick
slipping the notes on to other students and reading the extensive file Blaine had compiled, there were just some things that didn’t seem to fit.
“Fair enough,” Professor Pendleton said. “I know it was you who organized that little stunt. I have video of you planting the papers on people.”
“So this is a disciplinary meeting then?”
“Not yet, though that option is on the table. Right now I want to understand why you did it.”
“You’re the teacher, you tell me,” Nick said, leaning back and setting his hands in his lap.
“Not how it works,” Professor Pendleton said. “You can play these little games with everyone else on campus, but in case you missed the memo, I’m the teacher in the only class where you really have talent. If you and I are going to have productive exchanges where I’m actually able to educate you, then I’m going to need honesty on your end.”
“And if I’m not okay with that?”
“Then by the time you get back to the surface your clearance will be revoked and your bags will be packed,” Professor Pendleton replied.
“It’s like that?”
“It’s like that. I’m here to teach. If you aren’t here to learn then there’s no need to waste my time.”
“I see,” Nick said. “Then to answer your question, I planted the notes because it was the best solution to my dilemma.”
“Which was?”
“I needed to be marked as exceptional, but I couldn’t have that happen in front of other people,” Nick replied.
“Because of the feelings against Powereds.”
“Partially, but mostly because it spoils the demeanor of ineptitude I’ve worked very hard to cultivate,” Nick explained. “Right now there is a team prepping to go up against us in some sort of test. In all of the scenarios and plans they’re running through, not one will account for me being as competent as I am. They’ll write me off, and I fully intend to slip some tricks through that gap of ignorance.”
“Seems like a long way to go for a one-use element of surprise,” Professor Pendleton said.