by Drew Hayes
“Don’t even think about it. I might be off you-know-what training, but I’m still a lot stronger than you.”
“Please, it’ll be a cold day in hell before you’ve got my kind of power or skill,” Gerry shot back. Despite his words, Nick noticed that his mentor looked a bit more worn than usual. His normally ageless face had bags under his eyes, and his skin seemed pale, even for a man who worked indoors most of the time.
The elevator dinged, and the two men stepped inside. Nick pressed the button to the private floor, and they began to rise.
“Have a good time at school?”
“An interesting time, I’ll say that much. Made some good headway on rekindling my friendship with the old classmates.”
“So Eliza and Jerome reported,” Gerry said. “Nathaniel give you any trouble?”
“He took us by surprise once, but one of my assets was on hand to immediately return the favor. When he comes at me again, I suspect he’ll show far more discretion and planning. Should be pretty fun.”
“I worry about your idea of fun.”
“You don’t need to worry about me, Gerry.” Nick’s voice grew lower for the span of just one word. “Really.”
“Maybe I don’t need to, but it’s still my prerogative.”
“Fair enough. While you’re worrying, though, I need you to do two things for me.”
“What’s that?”
“First, I need you to burn the files I kept in the basement. All of them, scorched earth.”
“Too late. I checked on them this morning, and every one of them is destroyed. Hidden backups too, even the ones you didn’t know about. We’ve overhauling our security system to make sure whoever got in doesn’t pull a repeat performance.”
“I thought that might happen,” Nick sighed. “That school really does have an excellent set of procedures in place. Still, at least they saved us some trouble.”
“So, what’s the other thing you need?” Gerry asked. The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open, revealing the lush hallway.
Nick stuck his suitcase out to hold the doors, then turned back to Gerry. “I could use some sunglasses. Nice ones, the sort that would be comfortable if I wore them all day, every day.”
Gerry arched a carefully sculpted eyebrow in a motion so fluid it seemed to happen instantly. “Sunglasses, huh? Going to wear them around the casino?”
“No, but Lander’s in California. Lots of sunshine. Might just need to get back in the habit.”
“Gotcha. I’ll have a nice pair ready by the time you head back.”
“Thanks, Gerry.”
Nick removed his suitcase, and the elevator doors slid shut, leaving Gerry alone inside. He didn’t say a word; he couldn’t risk it. Even in the elevator, there were cameras and listening devices everywhere. Gerry did smile though, a grin born of relief from a fear he’d been carrying ever since Nicholas came back at the end of the last year.
It looked like his boy might be okay, after all.
150.
Alice was unsurprised to step into a nearly vacant mansion. It was the holidays, and, save for security personnel, Charles Adair allowed much of the staff to take time off. It wasn’t as if they’d be needed beyond the basic tending of meals and cleaning for Alice. His Christmases at home were infrequent at best; all revolving around what deal needed closing.
No, Alice was not surprised by the emptiness of the house. What did catch her off guard was how unbothered by it she was. The first year she’d come home to this place, she’d broken down in tears, overwhelmed by the loneliness. This time, it wasn’t even a blip on her emotional radar.
She pondered why as she walked up the marble stairs, sneakers moving soundlessly. Perhaps it was because she’d been away so long that the place felt foreign to her. That seemed close to the source, but not quite there. As she reached the top of the stairs, she paused for a moment, turning about to figure out which way her room was.
That was when she finally understood why this place provoked no reaction in her.
Alice’s room wasn’t anywhere in this massive mansion. It was three hours away, in a small dormitory on the Lander campus. Her father’s estate no longer depressed her because it was no longer her home. Alice’s home was a place filled with laughter, and worry, and fun, and most importantly, people she loved. At some point since her last time in this place, Alice had mentally relocated. She didn’t belong here anymore, not really. Even if Lander cut her at the end of the year, she wouldn’t come back. She would make a new place in the world, one without empty halls and lonely memories.
Her gait increased as she moved briskly down the hallway. Now that she knew her time here was temporary, there was no hesitation in Alice. It was just a few weeks away from home, nothing to get worked up over. Because it would end, and Alice would go back to the place where she belonged.
* * *
The Daniels’ living room was filled with Christmas cheer as Mr. Transport, Vince, and Hershel all appeared. Sally Daniels enveloped both of the younger men in hugs before they’d even gotten a few steps away from the teleporter, squeezing all the worry she’d held for them into the embrace.
“Glad to see you’re all still in one piece.” She pulled back a bit to examine them. Hershel had changed considerably since summer, muscle slowly taking the place of the fat he’d worn since childhood. He looked more like Roy now; though the two would never be able to pass for twins, they now resembled brothers far more. Vince’s body was much the same as the last time she saw him, perhaps with a bit more mass in the arms and shoulders. His eyes, on the other hand, had become a bit harder. Kindness still twinkled in them, but there was an undercurrent of violence willing to emerge. It both saddened and relieved her. Much as it was a shame to see Vince change; she’d been around enough Heroes to know that a certain amount of steely resolve was required to do the job.
“You two go run your bags upstairs. We’ll be having lunch soon, and I expect you both to have brought serious appetites.”
Vince and Hershel immediately obliged, walking up the stairs with baggage in hand. Only after she was sure they were gone did Sally turn to Mr. Transport, who was waiting with polite patience.
“Are you ready for this?”
“I am if you are,” Mr. Transport said.
“I believe we’ve reached the point where not telling is actively lying. It’s been nearly a year, and we haven’t grown tired of one another yet.”
“Quite the opposite, really,” Mr. Transport agreed.
“Exactly. So, even though it’s just dating, I think it’s time Hershel and Roy knew. We’ll tell them over lunch.”
“How do you think they’ll handle it?”
“Hard to say,” Sally replied, looking back up the stairs. “When their father left, it sowed a lot of anger in both of them. Much as they dislike him, I think they worry about me even more. My guess is that they’ll be happy, so long as you make me happy, but don’t be surprised if Roy threatens to break your skull if you hurt me.”
“You know, I’ve seen how strong Roy is getting. That’s actually a bit of a scary prospect these days.”
“Well then, I suppose you’d best endeavor not to hurt me.” Sally slipped over to her suitor and placed a brief kiss on his lips.
“It’s the last thing I intend to do.”
“We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know that,” she said. Then she moved away from him as sounds from upstairs echoed downward. Today was the day to tell the truth, but in a proper way. A way that involved mashed potatoes, corn, and roast turkey.
“Into the dining room, you two,” Sally Daniels yelled up the stairs. “And set a fourth place as well. I’ve convinced Mr. Transport to join us for lunch.”
* * *
“I miss you all. I know I open with that every time I come here, but it’s always true. I miss our stupid car trips and our fights and just having you around. If I was in this program for real, I think you’d be proud of me. If I were really going to be a Hero, I wo
nder what you’d all say. Probably nice things, except for you, Teri. I’m sure you’d constantly be messing with me under the guise of keeping me from getting a big head. God, I wish you were here to tease me. What’s a little brother without his big sister?”
The man speaking wore a black hooded-jacket that ran down all the way to his calves. This left only a bit of his gray pants and boots visible on the snow-frosted ground. They were unremarkable, unless one happened to be a student in Hero Certification Program, in which case, they were instantly recognizable.
“I know it’s been a long time. Eleven years too long, in fact, but I’m making progress. I just need a little longer; a little more time, and I’ll be able to keep my promise.”
A gust of wind blew by, stirring the top coating of snow resting atop the marble headstones. There were three of them, two large and one small. Each certainly bore a name and an inscription, but such details were obscured by the white powder coating every surface, save for the man speaking. He hadn’t bothered wiping them off. He didn’t need to read the names to know who he was talking to.
“Just a little bit longer, and I’ll be able to kill him. Maybe another year, at most. It’s a weird route to get there, I’ll freely admit that, but I will do it. Please, believe in me. I’ll keep my promise.”
A sharp popping sound echoed through the quiet graveyard, and the smell of burning ozone filled the air. Moments later, a new voice spoke, this one distinctly feminine.
“Whenever you’re ready, we’re waiting for you.”
“Thanks, Shims. Or maybe you prefer Clarissa?” The man turned away from the headstones and walked toward her. As he drew close, another gust of wind took his hood and pulled it back, revealing the tanned, strong-jawed face of Thomas Castillo. It also served to pull his jacket open a bit, revealing the full HCP uniform underneath it.
The woman scowled at the sight. “You shouldn’t be wearing that.”
“It’s what I had on hand. Besides, I can’t very well come to a place like this in my normal look. I’ll change before the big meeting, okay?”
“I suppose it will have to be all right. And keep calling me Shims, please. Who we are here is different than who we are with the outside world.” Shims pointed her hand to a large, yellow sphere floating a few feet off the ground. Stepping through it would lead to another identical sphere connected at the meeting location. Most teleporters could only hop about in space, but Shimmerpath was different: she could create tunnels through it.
“Hey, who understands that better than me? Are we doing Christmas dinner again this year?”
“Of course,” Shims said, a slight glow lighting up her face. “You know how Globe gets around the holidays.”
The duo stepped through the orb and vanished, the orb itself dematerializing moments later. Though it was gone, the smell of burning ozone still lingered in the graveyard for an hour more, until the wind picked up in earnest, and a new coating of snow arrived to douse the land.
151.
Ms. Pips was not happy with the young man sitting across the desk from her. Physically, he was still the same as he had been at their last meeting; same deliberate posture, same neutral expression, same gesture-less way he rested his hands in his lap. It was his eyes that spoke of change. Last time, they had been confused, deliberate, and hungry. Ms. Pips liked those emotions; they played well into what she could manipulate, and what she needed to see from the young man. This time, however, it was a very different set of eyes she was staring into.
These eyes were full of guile and determination, which were fine in the right proportions, but there was third element in there, one that set Ms. Pips on edge. Nicholas’s eyes had just a touch of smirking laughter, the sort that had been creeping in before his expulsion. She didn’t like that, both for what it said about the mind she might be dealing with, and because even she shuddered to think about the sorts of things that could make a man like Nicholas Campbell truly laugh. Her only consolation was that, if there was a heaven, Ms. Pips would never have to see her sister’s judgmental face over what had been done, what had needed to be done, to her son. No, if there was a heaven, then Ms. Pips would never see it. Her soul was far too heavy with blood to ever claw its way out of the pits of hell.
“You want to go back.” There was no question in her voice; she didn’t need to bother with it. That was why he was here; it was the only reason he would have left the suite he’d sealed himself in since arriving. “After how your semester ended, that’s quite the interesting sentiment. Does this mean you’ve decided to finally explain why you lapsed into a coma, and then managed to vanish from right in front of your bodyguards?”
“To be fair, since they were guarding me, shouldn’t that be something they’re raked over the coals for?” There it was, just as she’d been expecting. His tone was polite, his words carefully chosen, and his point valid, but there was a chuckling barb tucked beneath that simple veneer. Nicholas wasn’t just accepting her authority as he once had, he was testing her. Dancing with her. He was making a game of it. Part of her was annoyed at his boldness, but most of her was glad he’d finally gotten around to it. Leaders couldn’t be beholden to anyone’s authority. Once he could best her, he’d truly be ready for the next step in his path.
“They have told us everything they know, which, while inadequate, is still better than you, who is clearly holding information back.”
“I’m playing a very long con, and that means keeping my information as close to the vest as possible. You’re the one who taught me the importance of keeping my mouth shut when information is dangerous, even around people I can trust.”
Smart play, using her advice against her, though it hadn’t slipped her notice that Nicholas merely said he was running a con: he’d never specified on whom.
“Even if we look past your curious silence, this last semester was far from brimming with accomplishments. You failed to uncover the answer to whatever puzzle you were after; you managed to expose one of our operative’s identities to a future Hero; you were put in a mysterious coma and abducted from your room; and worst of all, you failed to anticipate an attack from Nathaniel Evers that made us look unacceptably weak.”
“If I may address those points: we both knew my puzzle would not be the sort that was so easy it could be solved in a single semester, and I have certainly made progress on it. Yes, Eliza’s identity was revealed to Vince, however, he doesn’t know what it is she or I do, nor about our involvement in the organization. If anything, I’ve just provided you with an emotional vulnerability to exploit on a man who could one day be a tremendous Hero.” He paused briefly, sizing up Ms. Pips’ expression. This next piece could be played in one of two ways, defense or aggression. She didn’t seem to be yielding much, so that meant he’d have to take the offense route. “We’ll skip the coma, since that was little more than an inconvenience, instead, let’s cut to the heart of the matter: Nathaniel’s attack. You’re absolutely right about my failure there. I should have been smarter, been more aware, and anticipated any move he would make. Nathaniel Evers got the better of us, of me. And that is exactly why I have to go back to Lander.”
“For revenge? Come now, you know I’d never authorize that sort of thing unless there was a profit in it,” Ms. Pips said.
“No, I need to go back because I failed to beat him the first time. He was stopped, but not by me. Right now, we’re at a draw; neither of us considers his last attempt to be a true win or loss. But if I don’t return, I look like I’m running. Like his last attack was strong enough to scare me away, and that will make it his win. I’ll look weak, and worse, the Family will look weak for allowing me to do it. Nathaniel Evers has left me with only one choice: return to Lander and finish the fight.”
It was well planned, calculatingly reasoned, and designed to appeal directly to her line of thinking. He had almost backed her into a corner, leaving her with the choice of conceding pride to the Evers or letting him have his way. Nicholas still had his skills, w
hatever sentiments might dance in his eyes. Of course, he’d forgotten the first rule she ever taught him: always have a trump card. Hers was the manila folder resting in her top desk drawer. Inside were documents that would not only keep Nicholas in Vegas, but would compel him to burn his precious Lander to the ground if she demanded it. And he’d do it all with a “thank you” and a smile. She merely had to pull out the folder, and she’d win.
And all it would cost her was a single broken promise.
“If I let you go back, I expect you to return home with unquestioned victory. I will not allow our organization to lose face in a confrontation like this. You either destroy Nathaniel Evers completely, or you’ll be coming back home as an employee who failed his task, and we will have to make quite the example out of you.”
“I’m aware of the rules we live by.”
“Very well, then. You have my blessing; go spend the next few months at Lander. Indulge in whatever side-games are keeping you so entertained there; just be sure to take care of our business when the chance arises.”
“Thank you very much.” He rose from his seat and began heading toward the large door at the end of the office. Before he made it all the way there, Ms. Pips called to him.
“Nicholas, make sure you take special note of how this meeting went. You were the one who insisted on going, I wanted you to stay. Don’t ever forget that, understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Nick Campbell pushed the door open and strode out into the hall, suddenly far less certain that he’d actually won that confrontation.
152.
“Boys, we’ve got some company!” Sally Daniels did not yell as much as she willed her voice through all material obstacles and into the ears of the children she was calling. This capability was not superhuman in origin, or, if it was, then it was an ability that all mothers are given, along with lie-ray vision, and the power to summon storms of guilt. Her voice hit its mark, and soon, Vince and Hershel were coming quickly but carefully down the stairs.