by Drew Hayes
Mary noted this as her teammates piled into the lobby: a mixed emotional palette with predominantly negative overtones. She couldn’t blame them; after all, their classes were far more taxing this year. Even she had to treat headaches after nearly every Focus class. She knew Professor Stone gave everyone the same assignments, but Mary would swear she was getting ridden harder all the same. They needed a break, and badly, but with the test in just a few days there was simply no time for it.
“Listen up, everyone,” Nick said as the final straggler came into the room. “We’re taking a break.”
“Very funny, Nick,” Mary all but snapped.
“Very true, my petite friend, and thank you for illustrating my point,” Nick rebutted. “Let’s be honest here, we all feel like shit. We’re tired, we’re worried, we’re just plain worn out. This year has been nothing but stress so far and that is not a mindset that’s conducive to winning. So tonight we’ll run through our drills and make sure everyone remembers our standard tactics. Then tomorrow we do nothing at all test related.”
“So what do you suggest? Another slasher marathon?” Alice asked.
“While that would suit me just fine, I was actually thinking it should be something the entire team wanted to do,” Nick said with a smile.
There was a beat of silence as his words sank in. “Wait,” Vince said slowly. “You mean you want everyone to decide together? Not just for you to hijack us into whatever activities seem like a good idea?”
“That is correct,” Nick confirmed.
“Wow. You really do think we need this,” Vince surmised.
“We might need it, but can we afford it? I mean, our first test is in just a few days. Taking a night off to screw around seems downright dangerous,” Mary pointed out.
“Not nearly as dangerous as not taking it off,” Nick replied. “Humans can only toil endlessly for so long. Every now and then we need to taste the sweeter things in life, to remember why we do the work in the first place. Much like Alice’s spa day, we need to be refreshed.”
“So what do we do then?” Roy queried.
“Consider the floor open; it’s our first matter of business,” Nick said. “Suggestions?”
“We could go bowling,” Vince said.
“We could go to a really fancy dinner,” Alice tossed out.
“Keg party,” Roy said without further explanation.
“Okay, so clearly we have some eclectic tastes,” Nick said. “Anyone else want to put in their two cents? Mary?”
“I’m fine with anything that isn’t horror movies,” Mary said.
“Easy enough to comply with,” Nick assured. “Camille? Alex? Any input from our non-resident members?”
Camille merely shook her head, but Alex spoke up.
“I do know of a party being thrown by one of the frats tomorrow night. There’s no theme, but they’re holding it on the top floor of the Rencroft building downtown, so it’s supposed to be pretty nice. They’re got a band, dance floor, and a dress code.”
“Sounds lame,” Roy snapped.
“There’s also an open bar after the twenty dollar cover,” Alex added.
“Sounds great,” Roy amended.
“That actually could be fine,” Alice said. “The dancing and fun of a club without the insane amount of people.”
“I’d be open to it,” Vince agreed. “Can we invite our other friends?”
“Of course,” Mary said before Nick could. She was still the leader after all. “I bet they need a night off as much as we do.”
“I do love the company of Thomas and his crew,” Nick agreed. In truth, he would have nipped the living shit out of the bud of that idea had he not been on the team with both telepaths. As it was, spending time around future competition could only be beneficial.
“It will make Selena happy; she’s been bugging me to take her out when we have time,” Alex said.
“Sounds like we’re more or less agreed then,” Nick announced. “Any objections?”
“I have one request,” Mary said. “Roy, would you mind if Hershel spent the first part of the night there with me? I’d very much like to dance with my boyfriend.”
“Nah, that’s fine,” Roy said. “In fact, he can have the whole evening. I kind of owe him: I’ve been using a lot of time for training.”
“Nonsense, you deserve to have some fun as much as the rest of us,” Mary said. “We’ll just bring you a change of clothes for after the shift.” Honestly, Mary would have preferred to have Hershel all night, but she also knew how worried he’d been lately over Roy’s need to have some fun. Much as she might have liked more romance out of the event, this was an activity for the team, and that meant putting the greater good first.
“Well then, seems like we’re all set for our break night then,” Nick said. “Now all that leaves are tonight’s drills.”
Though the group’s spirits sank a bit at re-submersion into the task at hand, Mary had to admit that the overall sentiment of her teammates was improved. Giving them something to look forward to had salved the weariness in their bodies and sharpened their minds. All of which she would try to keep in mind when she raked Nick over the coals later.
31.
While his students drilled themselves tirelessly in anticipation of their upcoming trial, Dean Blaine flew away from the city. He did so not by means of any special ability, unless skill at booking a seat on a commercial plane is considered special in some circles. It was frustrating at times to see the excess and decadence some of his classmates took as part of life while he had to simply muddle through as an average citizen. Hallow would have merely taken his own jet to run an errand and Bullrush’s company would at least have flown him first class, but for the legendary Zero, business class was the most for which Lander would spring.
Admittedly, he could have run down a teleporter to jump him to and fro; after all, he knew a few from his Hero days, but he loathed calling on people for personal favors if it was unnecessary. Those people had lives and jobs and problems all their own and didn’t need constant interruption from others needing transportation. Dean Blaine had lobbied to keep a full time teleporter on staff merely for traveling situations, but the board kept dragging its feet. In the meantime, employees traveling on business got to fly like all the other humans: uncomfortably and overcharged.
It wasn’t the glamorous life he’d imagined when he was younger, no question about that, but Blaine at least had the knowledge that he was still making a difference in the world. He knew many retired Heroes who had lost that feeling and it had crushed them. It was difficult to walk away from any career rooted in constant action, but being a Hero was even a step above even that. The fame, the accolades, the respect people showed you, all of it was unparalleled. Supers had been known to suffer occasional discrimination in some professions; however, no one dared to show any negativity publicly toward Heroes. Blaine was never certain if that came from genuine respect or merely fear of what would happen if the Heroes ceased to do their job.
There was a baby three rows over from Blaine, already yelping erratically. It didn’t take years of combat and pattern recognition experience to see that yelps would escalate into a constant, siren-like scream once they were airborne. Blaine closed his eyes and tried to drift elsewhere.
* * *
Blaine and Gerard sat at the bar, a beer in front of Blaine and a whiskey on the rocks in front of Gerard. There were many college-themed bars dotting the Lander campus, places with Greek letters and loud music abounding freely with the intoxicated co-eds. This was not one of those bars. It was too well-kept to be a dive, but too low-key to draw in most people of college age. Blaine and Gerard were, as usual, exceptions.
“How long do we have?” Blaine asked.
“About an hour,” Gerard replied.
“Until we have to leave or until we’re supposed to be there?”
“Leave,” Gerard said simply.
“Good,” Blaine said, and gulped down more beer. He
would have had to quit if it was the other way since he was driving, but he was happy to discover he could still finish his drink. “Remind me why we’re doing this again?”
“Because Clarissa was on our team back in sophomore year, because she’s our friend, and because the girl asks for so little that this is the least we can do,” Gerard said.
“Yeah, but still... a dinner party? And with a dress code? That seems cruel.”
“She’s a girl. She’s allowed to have fancy tastes.”
“We’re guys; we’re allowed to not have them,” Blaine pointed out.
“Yeah, but we’re also her friends.”
“I know, I know. We’re going. I’m just getting all the complaining out of my system now so I can be pleasant when we arrive.”
“Stiff upper lip, Blaine. These are the best days of our lives, after all.”
Blaine snorted a laugh into his beer. “I certainly hope not.”
“Okay, maybe not the best days, but they are pretty good,” Gerard amended. “Who knows, there may be a point when you look back on the day of Clarissa’s dinner party with fondness and nostalgia.”
“If that’s the case then I can only imagine what kind of nightmare I’d be dealing with that this seems pleasant by comparison.”
* * *
The facility was higher tech than where Sean Pendleton had been stored, with retina scanners along with well-armed and armored guards populating every door. This wasn’t a place for Supers with the propensity for escape. This was for Supers whose abilities could easily turn deadly. In most cases of those here, said abilities had already taken that turn. The walls were concrete, reinforced with steel, and covered in hidden wires carrying heavy voltages. The actual location of this testament to incarceration was on a mountaintop far from any nearby society. There were at least ten Heroes on site at any given time, all combat-hardened and able to make the tough choices in an instant.
Blaine stepped through a final checkpoint, ignoring the suspicious gaze of the guard that let him pass. It was their job to be paranoid and he wasn’t going to critique them for doing it well, even if the long and loud flight had left him in a bit of a foul mood. Blaine stood placidly as the heavy steel door before him slid open, revealing a room void of anything but bare concrete walls, a pot for excretion collection, and a man.
The man had every appendage locked down and encased in a series of large metal tubes. Blaine knew those restraints each weighed in the tons and cut off all movement even to the strongest of Supers. They also served the purpose of sealing off any lasers or other attack apparatuses the prisoner might have in his arms and legs. Had he possessed such destructive abilities in his chest or head, equally restrictive measures would have been taken for those as well.
This was not the case, so it was with a perfectly unobscured face that George gave Blaine a weary smile of welcome.
“Good to see you again, Boss. I think it’s time we talked about a cost of living raise. Not sure if you’ve noticed, but this place is kind of a hellhole.”
32.
The pounding on Nick’s door was a far cry from the delicate knock his late-night visitor had used last time. He pulled the door open quickly before any of his neighbors could be roused from their slumber.
“You need something, fearless leader?”
“I need to know when you decided that tactician meant the same thing as person in charge,” Mary said, walking stiffly past him and dropping into his desk chair. Nick closed the door securely before attending to the diminutive invader.
“I believe I was also declared strategist, wasn’t I?” Nick asked as he took his own lanky strides across the room.
“You were, but I don’t see how that applies here.”
“Of course you don’t,” Nick said. “You’ve been a good girl lately, not digging into people’s minds nearly as much as last year. I’m not going to ask why - it isn’t my business after all - but I will say that it’s a damn stupid idea given our present situation.”
“It’s because-”
Nick held up a hand to silence her. “I don’t want to know. It’s either emotional or ethical and in either case I’m not the person you should talk to about it. Let’s stick with the matter at hand. You want to know why I overstepped my boundaries.”
Mary nodded.
“Because going to tomorrow’s little party will offer us the chance to peek at minds of the competition. Amber Dixon’s boyfriend happens to be part of the frat that’s throwing the shindig so she will be in attendance.”
“Amber is on Shane’s team,” Mary pointed out.
“She is; however, she never goes to these events without her exceptionally close friend, Britney Ferguson,” Nick continued.
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Patience, research, and attentiveness,” Nick replied. “Unlike you lot, I made a point of eavesdropping on all the gossip-filled comings and goings of our peers during and between classes. I kept track of minuscule and pointless details methodically and I did it for moments exactly like this. We can go pick the brain of our opponent’s leader mere days before the match.”
“It’s a sound idea,” Mary agreed. “But why couldn’t you have asked me beforehand? And how did you know Alex would suggest it?”
“Because he is a boyfriend to a beautiful woman plugged into the live-wire of the social system and because I needed you not to be fully on board with it, which you would have been if you’d known my reasons,” Nick said.
“Explain,” Mary demanded.
“You’re the leader; you need to come off as dedicated and uncompromising in the pursuit of victory. I’m the screw-up; I’m allowed to do things like suggest we take a day off right before a big test.”
“But you got your way,” Mary pointed out.
“And you agreed to it, which allows you to keep the responsible image while at the same time showing you are considerate of the wishes of your team. It was the optimum way to get what we needed while framing you in the best light.”
Mary narrowed her eyes. “You put a good spin on it, but I’m still not happy at being circumvented in the decision-making process.”
“If you were, then you’d make a pretty shitty leader. What’s done is done, so how about I promise not to do it again and you decide it’s not worth fighting over so late in the night?” Nick suggested.
“Fine,” Mary said. “Just know that if you pull something like this again we’re going to have a problem. These matches are what will decide if we make it to another year in the HCP. That means the future of everyone in Melbrook rests on the decisions I make. I don’t take that responsibility lightly.”
“I’d wager a guess that’s part of why it was assigned to you in the first place,” Nick said. He walked back to the door and slid it gently open. Mary stared at it for a few moments then purposely walked out without so much as a backward glance. Nick eased it shut and went back to his computer.
He was back at work finishing his Statistics assignments for November (Nick preferred to work ahead so that he had the necessary free time for finals) when another set of knocks echoed through his room. These were more subdued than the first set; he supposed Mary was feeling less cocky this time around. Nick hefted himself from his chair and walked back across the room, pulling the door open to greet his returning guest.
“Forget something?”
“Huh?” Alice said, her face sparking in surprise. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, um, nothing,” Nick said, feeling the unfamiliar sensation of being caught off-guard. “What’s up?”
“I need to talk to you,” Alice said simply.
“At two in the morning?”
“Yes,” the blonde girl replied simply.
Nick took a deep breath and tried to fully grasp the situation. He and Alice had barely spoken, let alone been friendly, ever since last year’s fiasco. A late night call was a strange and curious anomaly. Nick didn’t like anomalies; Nick liked to know what w
as coming so his spontaneous reaction was already prepared.
“Well then, come on in,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing to his room. “Mi casa es su casa.”
Alice couldn’t stop herself from chuckling. Nick had no idea just how accurate that statement was.
“So Giggles, what do you need?” Nick as asked as he closed the door yet again.
“I need to talk you about, well, you,” Alice said as she started to sit on his bed then thought better of it; she took the same desk chair Mary had previously occupied.
“Fair enough,” Nick said. “I like smooth jazz, margaritas, and long walks on the beach. That fill in the gaps?”
“Not even a little,” Alice said “I’m serious. I’ve been playing along with you this year, not raising a stink about your attempts to bail on our friends, but now that you seem to be helping Mary call the shots on our strategies we’ve hit a problem that needs resolving.”
“And that is?”
“I don’t trust you,” Alice said simply.
“All things considered, I don’t know that I can fault you on that one,” Nick said.
“No, you don’t understand,” Alice said with a shake of her head. “Even last year when I thought you were full of shit, when I already suspected the person you acted like was wildly different from who you really were, I still at least trusted that no matter the facade you put up, you were a good person. I thought you were a good friend. I don’t have that anymore, and it makes listening to the orders you give and the tactics you implement a lot harder.”
“What would you like me to do about that? I can tell you it was all a joke, a lie, or a farce. I can tell you it never occurred to me to not go after our friends,” Nick offered.
“More lies aren’t the answer,” Alice said. “Not that I know what is. Hell, I don’t even know why you still act the way you do. You let the cat out of the bag already.”
“Only to you,” Nick said, his voice softening slightly. “Mary and Hershel weren’t there, and Vince never believed me about not going in the first place. Or maybe he did and didn’t care. Maybe he knew all along I’d go; I’m not sure what to make of that guy sometimes. Anyway, the point is that to nearly everyone else, including our classmates, this version of Nick is the real one, and it’s the one I prefer they see.”