by Drew Hayes
“Let’s hope so. I know nepotism and networking are considered the great forces that get one ahead in the outside world, but here in the HCP the only factor that will get you to the next year is dedication. That goes for you, too, you know.” Professor Pendleton rose from his strange perch and headed toward the door. “Don’t forget, you have an assignment due Wednesday on code breaking.”
Once the professor was gone, Nick sat back down. Whatever he was trying to say had to have been in his parting words. This week’s assignment was in tonal recognition, so the code breaking thing had been a heavy-handed hint. That was the direction, which meant the clue was in the first part. He’d said that nepotism and networking were the great forces for advancement. That didn’t seem to pertain too much to Vince. He got along with everyone, but he wasn’t the type to use friendship to get ahead. Besides, the only teacher he’d spent truly extensive time with was Coach George, so that wouldn’t be helping him anytime soon. As for nepotism, that was even less likely. Alice might have a dad in high places, but Vince didn’t have anyone. After all, he was an orphan with no parents. Well, unless you counted-
“FUCK!” Nick yelled, driving his fist into the nearest locker. There was an impressive dent that would take a workman three hours to fix on Monday. Nick didn’t even notice; his marvelous brain was whirring with such intensity it was nearly audible. He’d missed it. It was obvious, it was right fucking there, and he’d missed it. Nick took a deep breath and tried to get calm. It didn’t work.
He’d missed it. And now there was a good chance that Vince was completely fucked.
122.
“I still can’t believe you guys pulled that off,” Hershel said in awe. Mary nuzzled closer to him; the two were lounging on his bed, looking at the television without watching it.
“Sure, all it took to get a tie was two injuries and what I’m pretty sure was divine intervention in the form of Nick’s lineup working,” Mary sighed.
“Admittedly, it wasn’t perfect, but it was still impressive,” Hershel countered. “And to be honest, it was just what Roy needed. He’s hidden it well, but he’s been really down about this whole issue with hitting his limit. Finding a way to beat Rich was a pretty good morale boost.”
“I know, and I’m actually happy with the outcome, I just don’t want to get too overconfident,” Mary replied. “We had a whole lot of things break our way. Nine times out of ten, that team would beat us definitively.”
“Good thing we got the one out of ten then,” Hershel said, giving his girlfriend a loving squeeze.
“Very good thing. I’m happy Roy is feeling better, too. I’ve heard his thoughts and I know the inability to break through that wall has been eating at him.”
“It’s getting pretty bad,” Hershel agreed. “Professor Fletcher has run through every method he knows of, and Roy’s read up on gobs of people with his power, yet so far we’ve seen zero progress.”
“It’s not something people like to talk about, but every one of us does have limits. Eventually we all hit a threshold we can’t cross, no matter hard we train. We’re not gods, after all; just people with special abilities,” Mary said.
“I know, and that’s the scariest part of it. If this is it, if this is as far as Roy can go, then I’m not sure we’ll ever make it to Hero. There’s just too much of a gap between what we can do and what strongmen at that level are capable of.”
“Wasn’t your dad a Hero? I thought Roy had his ability, and usually the second generation is equal to or stronger than the first,” Mary pointed out.
“Usually is a pretty key word there,” Hershel said. “But Roy doesn’t have my dad’s power. Not exactly. His power was adaption. If he got injured, his body would toughen itself so the same thing wouldn’t hurt him anymore. For example, when he was a kid, he took a nasty tumble off his bike and scratched up his knees and elbows. A week later he fell off again, and this time his skin wasn’t even raw.”
“Didn’t he have super strength too?”
“Same principle. He’d fail to lift something, and within a day he’d be strong enough to do it. By the time he was an adult, his defensive and offensive capabilities were already on par with famous Heroes.”
“Strange that the son of a man whose very ability was breaking through limits would hit his own so early on,” Mary said offhandedly. “Chalk another one up to the mystery of how these powers work.”
“Yeah, it is pretty weird.” Hershel’s voice had grown a bit distant, and Mary had to actively quell the desire to listen on where his mind had wandered. She managed to resist, but if she’d tuned in, all she would have heard was him reminiscing over a memory from childhood. It was one that Roy blocked out, but still haunted Hershel in moments like these.
It was about a month after Roy had come into the picture. He and his father had been sitting in a park, eating ice cream on a warm afternoon. The details had grown blurry, but the one piece that was still sharp was his father’s hand patting Hershel’s head and his voice telling Hershel that one day the two of them would surpass him by leap and bounds. Even now, looking back, it didn’t feel like speculation. It seemed like his father knew something, something that was becoming increasingly more important as Roy stayed still while the rest of the class moved forward.
Mary poked him in the ribs. “Hey, you in there?”
“Sorry, I was just thinking about something,” Hershel said. Gazing at Mary, it sunk in that if Roy couldn’t make the cut, they would fall on a very different path than Mary and the others. Hershel didn’t want to lose future memories of the HCP, even if they were secondhand. He didn’t want to live in a different world than all of his friends. Most of all, he didn’t want to feel his brother’s frustration and fear anymore. Roy had been an ass to him for a lot of their life, but when push came to shove, he’d always looked out for his weaker brother. It was Hershel’s turn to do something Roy couldn’t do.
“When is spring break?” Hershel asked.
“Like, two weeks away. Didn’t you see the posters for the freshman river trip?”
“Must have missed those.”
“Why do you ask?”
“Just figuring out how I’m going to spend my time off. Wanted to know how much prep time there was.”
“I hope you come up with something fun. We could all use some stress relief after our semester so far.”
“That we could,” Hershel agreed. It was the only phrase he could come up with that sounded on the same page but wouldn’t count as a lie. His spring break would be anything but fun. It would be hard to keep from Roy, too. Fortunately, Roy didn’t often reminisce on Hershel’s memories of Mary, so if he was lucky, the other brother wouldn’t notice this harebrained idea lurking in their shared mind. It would take damn near a miracle, but after today’s spectacle, Hershel found himself a bit more inclined to hope for one.
123.
“I can’t believe you lost to a song,” Camille chuckled lightly. “Didn’t you think to just stick your fingers in your ears?” She and Vince were in the dining hall eating a late dinner, almost alone in the spacious enclosure. Everyone from both teams, with the exception of Sasha, had come to check on her in the infirmary; however, it was past afternoon by the time she finally woke up, so all but Vince had eventually needed to leave for other classes. The pain drugs they’d given her had evidently worked better than expected, as Camille usually classified herself as a light sleeper. Once she finally came around, it was a quick matter to heal herself, and once Vince had caught her up on the match outcomes, they’d both realized they were ravenous.
“Generally it’s a bad idea to stick things in your ears that are putting out heat in the hundreds of degrees,” Vince pointed out. He took a bite of low-quality hamburger and swallowed it with some effort. “Besides, it wouldn’t have worked.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t totally understand it, but Alex explained to me and Nick once why you don’t have to hear Selena’s music to be entranced by it.
He said it was like how someone can turn their bass so high that you feel in rippling through your body.”
“My cousin has a car set up like that. He gave me a ride home from swim practice once and I nearly threw up,” Camille recalled. It normally would have weakened her appetite, but if the lukewarm chicken tenders on her plate couldn’t turn her stomach then some childhood memory of discomfort didn’t stand a chance.
“Right. So, basically the same thing. Even though you might not register it, your body still absorbs her song. Evidently that’s all it takes. It’s why Alex created a technique that pushed back all sound, not only whatever was around his ears.”
“Good luck for him that he did,” Camille said. She dragged a limp, soggy fry through ketchup in hopes that it would improve the taste. It didn’t. “It sounds like Will would have had that match sewn up if he hadn’t pulled that trick out of his hat.”
“Yeah, everyone did a really amazing job today.” Vince didn’t say ‘except me’ because he didn’t have too. He felt like everyone was already thinking it. So instead he cut his sentence short and gulped down some flat soda that had come with his meal. Camille heard the unspoken words in his voice anyway.
“I’m sorry, Vince. I didn’t mean to laugh. It just seemed funny because of how strong I know you are. After I saw you fight Michael, it was hard to imagine anyone beating you. Selena is powerful in her own right, and there’s no shame in losing to her.”
“She is, she’s incredible,” Vince agreed. “But I think I could have beaten her if I’d used electricity.”
“Let me guess, you held back because you were scared of hurting her?”
Vince looked up from his food into the compassionate stare of his dinner-mate. “How did you know?”
“It’s who you are. All this strength is still relatively new to you, so you err on the side of caution rather than risk seriously injuring someone.”
“In this case that weakness of mine cost us an upset win. That’s what’s eating at me; I had the chance to really make a difference and I couldn’t pull the trigger on it.” Vince noticed his hand had involuntarily clenched into fist as it rested on the table. A smaller hand, one far more delicate than his own, settled on top of it and squeezed.
“Kindness is not a weakness,” Camille said firmly. “The fact that you care so much about other people is part of why you do make a difference. Maybe not in some stupid match, but in the world as a whole.”
“You think too much of me,” Vince replied. His hand relaxed, and it could have been his imagination but he would have sworn Camille’s lingered on top of his for a few moments after. Then it was gone, and they were back to working their way through the culinary catastrophe set before them.
“So what is Nick planning for celebration, anyway? Monster movie marathon or maybe a night at some sketchy dive bar?”
“Actually, he said he wanted to take the night to reflect on the day’s events,” Vince informed her. “I guess it is tactician stuff.”
* * *
Nick was well through his sixth glass of gin at the moment in question. He was at a bar far from campus; the cab ride here had been nearly forty dollars and now he’d have to spend the same to get back. It was worth the cash to be here. This was a dark lounge with thick smoke in the air, a place where no one asked for an ID because if you had the clout to know about it, your business was welcome. There were places like it all over America, and Nick made it a point to know the nearest one whenever he was stuck in a new city.
He sat alone in a high-backed leather chair, vision trained on a fake fireplace with a projection of flames dancing across it. There were people to talk to and things to do of which he could avail himself, but that wasn’t why he’d come here. Nick needed to be alone. He needed to drink in misery and have a night to chastise himself for such an unforgivable failure. He needed penance, and more importantly he needed focus.
Vince was in danger of being kicked out. It made sense; all policies aside, the son of Globe would be no more welcome in the HCP than the son of Hitler at a bar mitzvah. That it wasn’t a blood relation or an official adoption was even worse; it meant the little protection that applied to children of criminal Supers could be sidestepped. It couldn’t be an easy process, at least, otherwise they would have drummed him out already.
Another hearty gulp of gin smoothed his nerves as Nick continued to work through the problem. So, someone wanted Vince out based on Chad’s accusations. They probably couldn’t eliminate him based solely on something so flimsy, however. Professor Pendleton had specifically mentioned Vince’s sub-par record in official matches, so there was a good chance that was the avenue being pursued. Nick took another long drink as the false flames flickered. Vince was middle of the pack. He’d improved, but his tendency toward caution meant he never truly showcased his skills. If things kept up at this pace, he could fail to advance to third year without raising too much suspicion. Friends would be sad, but no one would be able to prove it was intentional discrimination. Not with an official record like his.
Nick cleaned out the glass and motioned for another. So, the solution was to make sure that Vince put on such a display of power in the final match that failing to advance him would raise all manner of hell. It had taken Nick six drinks to figure out the What, now all that remained was coming up with the How. He suspected it would require more gin than this bar stocked, but he was willing to find out.
124.
Wednesday morning, Mary found a note inside her gym locker, resting delicately on top of her uniform. It politely informed her to get dressed and report to Dean Blaine’s office rather than the gym. She mentally flipped through recent events to see if anyone had committed any transgression a captain might be held accountable for. Nothing really stuck out to her, and she usually kept close tabs on Nick’s thoughts in case he was planning something she wanted advanced warning about. Unfortunately, he was good at controlling the direction of his mind’s wandering when around her, so it was possible she’d missed something. She arrived at the dean’s office to find the door open and two men waiting inside.
One was the dean, seated behind his expansive desk, and the other was Chad, looking as uncertain about his presence here as she felt. She wondered if it had something to do with last week’s match, though she couldn’t imagine why. Everyone had recovered and moved on. Sasha still seemed to stay as far away from their team as possible during gym, but that hardly seemed like anything the dean would involve himself with.
“Good morning, Mary,” Dean Blaine greeted her. “Please shut the door behind you and take a seat.”
“Yes, sir.” She closed it gently then settled into one of the open chairs set before the dean’s desk.
“I’m sure you’re both wondering why I’ve called you here, and I see no reason to keep you in suspense. As you both are probably aware, in your class you represent the strongest combatants of each sex. This is no small feat, especially given the impressive talents of those you are in competition with,” Dean Blaine said. Mary had a sneaking suspicion he’d given this speech before. There was something polished about it, like he’d had time to overthink the delivery.
“With such high office comes a great deal of respect,” Dean Blaine continued. “However, it also comes with certain responsibilities and obligations. As others were tasked to shepherd you, you will be watching over the next generation.”
“Excuse me, but I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Mary admitted.
“Isn’t it obvious? I would have thought you two noticed the posters outside the gym by now.”
“Posters? The only posters I’ve seen are for the river trip,” Chad said.
“Precisely,” Dean Blaine affirmed.
“I’m confused,” Mary said.
“Ah yes, I forgot you didn’t attend last year’s outing. The river trip is largely funded by the school; however, we do not send teachers as supervision. We instead send our top sophomore students from each sex to handle any issues tha
t might arise.”
Mary raised a very suspicious eyebrow. “What kind of issues?”
“Last year there were some fights, one person got lost, and Allen set the forest on fire,” Chad supplied in what he thought was a helpful manner.
“That doesn’t really sound like my cup of tea,” Mary said.
“I, too, would like to decline the honor,” Chad seconded. “I only went last year as part of a bargain with Angela DeSoto.”
“I can certainly understand the sentiment,” Dean Blaine said graciously. “Unfortunately, this isn’t something you’re allowed to decline. It is an assignment just like any other you receive in the HCP.”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” Mary shot back. “Why do we have to spend our time off doing work when everyone else gets to go have fun?”
“For one thing, HCP is not bound by traditional school schedules. For another, most of our chaperones will tell you that even with the weight of their responsibility, they still had fun. As to fairness, it is actually very fair. Someone had to do it for your class, and two of the current freshmen will be doing it next year. And more than any other reason, because this provides a training opportunity unlike any other you’re likely to receive.”
“Training?” Chad perked up visibly at this word.
“Indeed. You’re both captains of your teams, and presuming you become full-fledged Heroes, you’ll likely continue to find yourselves in such a capacity. You both are powerful, resourceful, and trustworthy. People turn to you; that’s why you were chosen for those leadership roles. Not all teams in your life will be made up of friends, however. The Hero world is chaotic. Sometimes you’ll have to work with people you don’t know, or even ones you dislike.”
“How does that factor into us watching Supers get drunk on a river?” Mary asked.
Dean Blaine gave her a smile that said she’d stepped exactly where he wanted her to. “My dear girl, if you can corral drunk Supers in their late teens then there is no combination of people on this planet you won’t be able to coordinate. It teaches patience, flexibility, and working outside your comfort zones.”