Super Powereds: Year 2

by Drew Hayes

  Mr. Numbers set the envelope on the desk. Professor Pendleton made no motion to pick it up. He would eventually - no man could resist such temptation of curiosity - but for the moment he was content to dwell in this moment of misery.

  “Have a good night,” Mr. Numbers said, knowing the sentiment was wasted, yet trying to express it anyway. Perhaps Mr. Transport was rubbing off on him after all these years.

  Professor Pendleton nodded his understanding and refilled his glass.

  * * *

  It took some hours for quiet to settle in at Melbrook Hall. News and comprehension of Nick’s departure was greeted by railing, frustration, and even some tears. Eventually, as evening overtook the afternoon, the four remaining Melbrook students, along with Camille, sat in the common room in silence, punctuated by an occasional thought or recollection. It was only then that Mr. Numbers and Mr. Transport appeared, emerging quietly from their apartment in the rear of the building.

  “I see everyone has come to terms with the loss of one of our own,” Mr. Numbers observed.

  “What Mr. Numbers means to say is that we know this is a trying time for all of you, so we wanted to come out and make sure everyone was holding up all right,” Mr. Transport corrected.

  There was a chorus of mumbled groans; however, nothing remained to be said. It had all been vocalized earlier on. Now the weary din of acceptance had settled in.

  “Since no one seems to have any pressing issues, we can move on,” Mr. Numbers surmised. “Before his departure, Nick made certain preparations in case this series of events played out. One of those was requesting me to relay a message to you all.”

  He couldn’t have gotten their attention faster if he’d announced a giant dinosaur was attacking the campus.

  “What was it?” Vince asked, his voice half hopeful and half terrified.

  “Nick knew you’d all be saddened by losing him; however, he hated the idea of you all moping about. He said he’d rather be remembered with joy and annoyance, the same things he worked so hard to bring into your boring lives.” Mr. Numbers paused as he surveyed the looks he was getting. “Those are his words, not mine. Anyway, to that effect, he had me take one of his DVDs before it was packed. It was his sincere last wish that you all watch it together instead of sitting about moping. Again, his words.” Mr. Numbers pulled the DVD from his jacket pocket and set it on the coffee table.

  “It’s a dumb slasher movie,” Alice noted. “That son of a bitch. He got us one last time.” And then Alice did something she would have thought impossible only moments before. She laughed. Not a sweet giggle or a half-hearted chuckle: a full-bodied gale of laughter that shook the chair she sat on. Before long the others had joined in, and it was quite a while before the mirth finally subsided enough for someone to put the disk in. Alice undertook this task, setting up the TV and DVD player before returning to her seat.

  The title screen rose before them, a trio of dark skinned women with cheap plastic fangs set in their mouths. Hershel grabbed the remote and hit the Play button. What appeared on the screen was not a government warning about piracy or a preview for another movie. It was, in fact, the last thing any of them expected to see.

  “Hey there,” Nick called from the screen. “Damn I wish I could see your faces right now. I bet you all look so shocked it’s ridiculous.”

  He would not have been disappointed.

  193.

  Nick was sitting in the computer chair in his room, back to the window which showed just a hint of the dark sky outside. His sunglasses were still on his face, which made sense since this must have been done before everything happened. He wore his usual easygoing grin as he paused for effect, letting everyone adjust to the sight of him suddenly on the television screen. After a few seconds, he continued.

  “So, I’m sure you’re wondering what the hell this is about. If you’re watching this, then I had to go with my less enjoyable plan at our final match, which means assuming Mr. Numbers didn’t fuck up the timing, by now my memory of this place and all of you has been erased.”

  There was no mumble of surprise; Alice had shared her findings with the group and they’d already been forced to make peace with it.

  “I know that fact probably saddens all of you; hell, it sort of saddens me too, but I need you guys to know that it was absolutely necessary. With the reemergence of Globe and Vince’s connection to him, we were all going to be under increased scrutiny. My devious shenanigans would have put me on their radar as well. That means they’ll try to bring in telepaths, likely unofficially if they think they can get away with it. Now I’m sure I gave you all noble reasons for everything I did, and those are likely all at least partly true. Actions can be motivated by many things, and in this case there is one I know I didn’t tell any of you about. The things I’ve put together can, under no circumstances, be allowed to get picked up by some thought-pillaging mind delver. No offense, Mary.”

  “A little bit taken,” Mary mumbled.

  “For most of you this doesn’t make sense, but you need to think of things in a larger perspective. Once I realized it was almost unavoidable that they’d bring in telepaths under the radar, it became a question of not if I would give away too many secrets, but when. I can control what I say all day long; marshaling my thoughts is a different story. So, when faced with a situation that holds an inevitable outcome, what do you do? Simple, you change the situation. In my case, I got rid of the very thing that would have caused us the most grief: me. Or rather, all the knowledge I’d accumulated.”

  Nick paused on the tape, reaching over to his desk and making a few quick keystrokes. “Sorry, had to reply to an e-mail. At any rate, I’m sure you guys are wondering why I bothered to make this if I’m just going to be cryptic. While sharing everything I know would defeat the purpose, there are a few truths that I need to get out there before I go. These are for you guys only. If anyone else is in the room, make sure you trust them implicitly or ask them to leave. I’ll wait.”

  All eyes turned to Camille, who pulled herself off the couch without a word.

  “No,” Vince said, reaching over and stopping her. “I trust you. Whether you like it or not, you and Alex are pretty well lumped in with us. I think you should be here. Any objections?”

  The room was silent, so they looked back at the screen and waited for Nick to continue.

  “Okay, if we’re done with that, then first things first. Vince, when this is over, I want you to melt this DVD. I’m talking no remains. And don’t get lazy and smash it; you can still recover data from that if you know what you’re doing.”

  Vince nodded. A moment later he wondered why he was responding to a pre-recorded message.

  “Now that we’re set there, Vince, I guess I may as well start with you. I debated for a long time whether it was appropriate to tell you this or not, and in the end it was caution that led me to decide it was the right call. I don’t want someone using this information to throw you off at an inopportune moment, so it’s better to let you deal with it in advance. The father you met and talked with in Rich’s hallucination wasn’t some piece of your psyche. It was actually him. Globe entered your dream and assumed a role just like Mary. They had a conversation which she can fill you in on. We kept it from you because we weren’t sure how you would react, and to be honest, we needed to get you in fighting shape as soon as possible. It was a judgment call, and I’m sorry if you don’t agree with it.”

  Vince kept his emotions far more contained than they would have expected. Two months ago this would have sent him reeling; however, with how chaotic his life had become, he’d grown exceptionally more adept at rolling with such surprises. In fact, it made a strange sort of sense when he thought about it. This would still take time to deal with, but at least he wasn’t setting the couch on fire in a breakdown.

  “On the subject of Globe’s little mental visit, his talk with Mary yielded three things. A promise not to kidnap any of us, some advice to me about how to help Vince reach his
potential, and a message for Alice.”

  “Wait, did he say me?” Alice asked the room.

  “Alice, Mary wanted to tell you this right away, but I convinced her not to. I had a pretty good hunch on what it was meant to tell you, and I knew your focus wouldn’t be on the match if I was right. If you’re mad at the delay, blame me, not Mary. She didn’t understand the point of Globe’s message, so she had no idea what she was keeping from you. Mary, I’ll pause here so you can give Alice her message.”

  Alice turned to Mary, who seemed to be studying the floor with intense scrutiny. “Globe wanted me to tell you that he can’t walk into people’s dreams on his own, not like I can when Rich puts me under. He had to call in a favor from another Super to get him into Vince’s head.”

  “Why on earth would I care about something like that?”

  “I don’t know. He was just insistent that I tell you the name of the Super. Evidently he goes by a strange codename, but Globe was sure it would be familiar to you. The name was Abridail.”

  “I’m not sure why he thought that would be familiar. Sounds like a stupid made up word. Where would I have even-” Alice’s eyes grew wide and her breathing grew rapid as the name triggered a memory from earlier in the year. There was so much confusion and anger surrounding that recollection that they nearly managed to bury all the fine details. Some, evidently, hadn’t gone as deep as she thought. Things like that name, or the man who’d used it.

  “When Rich put me under at Halloween, when I had that dream about someone telling me my mom was alive and that they knew her, he told me his name was Abridail.” Alice’s hands had begun to shake without her noticing. “I never told any of you that name. I don’t think I told it to anyone at all.”

  “In case Alice is having trouble remembering where the name Mary told her comes from, I assume it would match the name of the man who visited her on Halloween,” Nick said from the screen. “Otherwise there would be no reason to give it directly to her as a message. This brings us to my final topic, one that I suspect is at the center of more than even I’ve fully realized: if I’m correct, and I have ample reason to believe I am, then Alice’s mother is alive.”

  194.

  Esme Stone sat with a damp cloth in her lap. It had previously contained ice to soothe a headache, now all that remained was a slightly-wet forehead and a well-soaked cloth. Memory alterations didn’t usually take so much out of her, but for all his insistence that the procedure occur, Nick Campbell’s brain had fought her tenaciously. She sipped a glass of ice water as Dean Blaine entered his office and took a seat. He was anxious to hear her report, but he’d still allowed her time to recover before interviewing her. Esme was thankful they’d chosen him for this position; he wore it better than many others had. She trusted him, trust both his intentions and his judgment, even without being able to read his mind. That was why she’d honored his request when she’d have refused anyone else.

  “How did it go?” Blaine probed gently. His body language was relaxed; he sat back in his chair with his hands resting on the desk. Eager as he was, he forced himself to be calm for her. Things like this were why she also liked him, as well as respected him.

  “It went rough, obviously,” she said at last. “I’ve met minds more willful than his, but not often, and not for a very long time. I think I was able to get everything, but I could only manage to see bits and pieces of it.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as, he’s taken precautions against having his mind wiped. He documented his activities in extensive summaries at the end of each semester. Names, powers, histories, everything he learned about his classmates was recorded. Even wrote one about this semester last week and messengered it to himself. He’s counting on that to reconstitute his memory.”

  “We knew he’d try something,” Blaine reminded her. “Since he figured out the memory wipe, it was inevitable he’d attempt to circumvent it. Still, written records, that’s surprisingly risky.”

  “He used a code,” she elaborated. “One he made up, one with no cypher. If he doesn’t remember it, then he’ll have to crack it before he can access those files.”

  “Great, that should buy us all of ten minutes,” Blaine sighed. “Professor Pendleton appraises his cryptanalysis skills at a genius level, and I’ve got no inclination to disagree.”

  “There’s ample time before he gets to Vegas. We can have them destroyed before he arrives. It’s not like this is our first time facing such a hurdle.”

  “True.” Blaine drummed his fingers on the desk without any bit of rhythm. “Let’s proceed here first. Was there anything else worth noting?”

  “I’m not sure. I told you, he was able to block me from seeing all his memories of his time here.”

  “Yes, though that shouldn’t have impacted the obfuscation.”

  “It didn’t. No, the thing is, he chose a few spots to fight me off the hardest. Obviously I don’t know what they were, but the strange part is that he didn’t bother defending the things that most other students try to hide. Minor violations of the rules, interpersonal relationships, even a psyche delve he took over Halloween, those he gave no significant defense to keep hidden. Nothing more than his mind’s rebellion in general.”

  “So whatever he wanted to keep secret, it probably wasn’t something as inane as who he has a crush on, or what bartenders in town don’t check for ID.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Esme concurred.

  “That means either it was important, or he just thought it was important. Given who we’re talking about, I’m more inclined to bet on the former. I’m also sure it pertained to the HCP if he was determined to keep it from you. That damned kid, why not just come tell us?”

  “Maybe he thinks we couldn’t be trusted,” Esme suggested. “He liked you and Sean, but he was also keenly aware of how people can be compromised without even knowing it. Even for someone immune to telepathy.”

  “Maybe,” Blaine grudgingly admitted. Three years ago he would have called bullshit. Three years ago he also would have sworn he could trust George and Persephone with his life, let alone with his students.

  “There’s one other thing I should probably mention,” Esme said, interrupting Blaine’s drifting thoughts. “When he sent his latest summary, he also sent instructions for certain pages of the older ones to be torn out and burned. He was very emphatic that no trace of them remain.”

  “Well, that about cinches that then. Looks like he purposely got himself memory wiped,” Blaine surmised.

  Esme nodded. “That was my conclusion too. Sometime between winter break and now he realized a piece of information that he felt was too dangerous for anyone to have, even himself. That was probably why he protected certain memories from being seen. He didn’t want us putting together what he realized.”

  “Sounds likely, but I’m surprised he’d go to such trouble, then allow someone who can see his memories access to them.”

  Esme let out a chuckle. “That part was a surprise to him. He didn’t know you had someone who could view memories; he thought all we could do was erase them.”

  “Too bad it didn’t give us an edge,” Blaine said. He quickly caught the possible meaning of his words and clarified. “Not that you didn’t do great work as always, Esme. I know it’s much harder for you to see protected memories than to obscure them. We all have to work in our limits, and I thank you for what you did.”

  “Any time,” she replied. “For most of it.”

  “Ah. I take that to mean you were successful?”

  “I believe so. It wasn’t easy, but I think it’s done. You know that if the board finds out about this, even that you asked me to do it, it will be the end of both our careers?”

  “You’re tenured,” Blaine reminded her, giving a gentle smile. “So I think I’d be the only one out on his ass.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I know. I appreciate what you did, and I promise I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think it necessary
.”

  “Good. Try not to make a habit of this.”

  Blaine held up his right hand. “Hero’s honor.”

  “That you won’t ask again?”

  “That I’ll try.”

  “At least you’re honest,” she said, setting her damp cloth on his desk. “I’m going to bed so I can rest. Want me to have a crew of Cleaners dispatched to Nick’s casino on my way out?”

  “No, I don’t think that will be necessary,” Blaine said. “For now, I’m going to play along. I want to see just what it is the boy has up his sleeve.”

  “Maybe what’s up his sleeve is a plan to blackmail future Heroes with the information he’s stockpiled,” Esme pointed out.

  “Maybe,” Blaine agreed. “But I somehow doubt it. Nick is, if anything, more ambitious than that. And if I’m wrong, well... we have a contingency program for those situations as well.”

  195.

  The day of departure for the sophomores of Melbrook arrived to find a strained, gloomy atmosphere had settled over the dorm. Nick’s last message had left Alice and Vince with a lot to think about; both had retired that night without saying much to their fellow dorm mates. Come morning they’d all had breakfast together, although the affair had been a largely silent one. Once eating was accomplished they’d all turned their attention to finishing the last bit of packing.

  Mary was nearly done when Alice knocked on her door. She opened it quickly and allowed her blonde friend to enter.

  “So, I was thinking we should talk about what the plan for summer is,” Alice said, walking in without any sort of formal greeting.

  “I had a feeling that would come up,” Mary said. She shut the door firmly and headed toward the small pile of bags sitting atop her bed. “Assuming Globe was telling the truth then there isn’t any reason for me to hole up in the Adair fortress this year.”

  “You’d know better than anyone else if we can trust his promise. You’re the only one who had a conversation with him and knew it,” Alice pointed out.