by Drew Hayes
“Great,” Vince said unenthusiastically. That made it sound even less fun. There was nothing that seemed even remotely appealing about this trip.
“Hells yeah. I’m putting our names at the top of the list,” Sasha said, stepping forward and plucking a pen from her bag. “About time we get to have some fun. I’m still kicking myself for missing that sophomore party last semester.”
Vince considered trying to stop her, then thought better of it. He wasn’t exactly experienced at relationships, but he knew enough to not try and deprive his girlfriend of something she would view as ample fun. Besides, no one was going to force him to drink. He could go and just enjoy the company.
“Rock on!” Nick said, sidling up to him. “Okay, Vince, this is it. This river trip, I am seeing you finally unwind. You, good sir, will try drinking. No arguments, because every time you open your mouth to say no I’m just cramming a shot down it.”
Vince supposed a couple would be okay. It was a new experience and all. Besides, they’d be out in nature, along with heaven only knew how many other college kids on spring break. It might be nice to blend in for a bit and get away from all the Lander uniqueness.
“I heard about this thing,” Gilbert said, adding his own name to the list. “Don’t they have a deal with some landowner so we’re the only ones on that river? No worrying about anyone seeing us use our powers.”
Vince was... well, Vince was pretty much just thinking “Damn it” over and over and over.
“All right, class, get inside,” Dean Blaine said from within the room. “The sheet will be there for at least a week. I assure you, a chance will be had by all to sign up.”
There was some grumbling, but they all piled in and took their seats.
“Settle down, class,” Dean Blaine told them. “I know you’re all excited about this weekend, but try to keep it under control. It’s only Tuesday after all.”
There were several exchanged glances of curiosity, followed by a multitude of shrugs admitting ignorance.
Julia raised her hand.
“Yes, Ms. Shaw?”
“What’s this weekend?”
“Tsk tsk, Ms. Shaw. I would have expected you to pay at least some attention to the Lander event calendar. Would anyone care to inform Ms. Shaw of what she has forgotten?”
He was met by vacant eyes and silence. The few in the class who did know the weekend’s significance didn’t dare proclaim it for fear of being judged as looking forward to it. Which they, in truth, were.
“I must say, I’m disappointed. Over thirty of you here and not one person knows what this weekend is? It’s Parents’ Weekend. I’d have thought you’d all have it marked on your calendars,” Dean Blaine, barely hiding a chuckle. He was significantly older than his students, but not so old that he’d forgotten the stomach-tightening terror of knowing your parents would be visiting you at college.
“Wait... you mean our parents...” Stella said, slowly circling the answer she didn’t want to hear.
“Your parents were all sent invitations inviting them to a weekend of fun and mingling here at Lander. They’ll be allowed to tour the facility, join in some parent and child social events, or just wander the campus meeting your friends and professors,” Dean Blaine explained.
“And these invitations, these are already sent out?” Rich asked from the front row.
“Indeed. Ever since one year when a student attempted to hijack the mail truck we’ve made it policy to only remind the students of Parents’ Weekend after all invitations are delivered,” Dean Blaine, glossing over the whole of the story. In truth, it had been several students who’d gone after the mail truck, but his class didn’t need to know that any more than they needed to know how Dean Blaine had such extensive, one could even say firsthand, knowledge of the event.
“Um... what time will they be arriving?” Will asked.
“Friday afternoon. On that note, you should know that gym will start an hour early, during what would usually be your study period. We want you to have extra time so you can all be cleaned up and ready when your parents arrive.”
Some of the students looked sullen, a few looked eager, and most looked downright terrified. It gave Dean Blaine a small sense of comfort knowing that no matter how powerful a child might be, they could still fear the embarrassment of their parents. Then he noticed a few faces in the crowd that looked nothing like the others. These were the faces of a few who were trying very hard not to look as sad as they felt. Dean Blaine’s amusement swiftly passed.
“Enough of that,” he said. “It’s time to start class.”
89.
“I’m afraid I just don’t agree,” Mr. Numbers said politely, taking a sip tea to punctuate his sentence.
“I’m not asking for agreement, merely assistance, even if only by association,” Mr. Transport replied.
The two men were taking advantage of the time their charges were occupied in gym to pop out and get lunch at the only place one could find truly delicious Italian food.
“I’ll concede that your idea does regain us some of the ground we were forced to sacrifice for the mountain trial; however, I feel it comes off as far too transparent an attempt to do just that,” Mr. Numbers said. “If we are seen as actively manipulating their emotions then it would undermine our efforts, not aid them.”
“That argument is only valid if they see it as an act done for the sake of manipulation. If they take it as genuine then it would do wonders to foster some trust. Trust that would greatly assist us down the line,” Mr. Transport countered.
“I think the risk is too great against the potential reward,” Mr. Numbers assessed bluntly. “The optimum gain is simply too minimal to justify such an overt gesture.”
Mr. Transport slowly cut into his manicotti, considering Mr. Numbers’ point. It was true that this could work against them; however, it was also true that Mr. Transport still wanted to proceed with the plan. Not just for the reasons he’d advocated to Mr. Numbers, but because it was an act of decency he wanted to perform. Mr. Numbers wouldn’t accept sentiment in place of logic, though. Mr. Transport thought carefully, then voiced an idea.
“We could get some of them to assist us.”
Mr. Numbers merely raised an eyebrow rather than conjure the effort of a vocal reaction.
“It’s not without precedent in circumstances such as these. We would need Nick and Mary. The others trust Mary thanks to her ability, and Nick has been shaping their perceptions since the first day. If they agree to aid us then we significantly reduce risk,” Mr. Transport said.
“Valid,” Mr. Numbers said. “However, working with Nick in itself generates a risk.”
“Then let’s begin with Mary. Broach the topic with her over your next chess game. You can gauge her reaction and decide then if the equation is more adequately balanced.”
“Very well,” Mr. Numbers agreed. “Assuming the risk reward ratio becomes justifiable, I will agree to help you with your project.”
“Thank you,” Mr. Transport said.
“Not at all,” Mr. Numbers replied. “Shall we get dessert?”
“Sounds delicious. I believe there is an excellent bakery down the street,” Mr. Transport suggested.
“Perfect,” Mr. Numbers agreed. “One thing I love about New York, variety is always close at hand.”
* * *
“Because I’m retired, that’s why!” Dean Blaine yelled into the phone. He was in his office and had been attempting to unwind from the day. His attempt was clearly unsuccessful, as his face was flushed and a small vein near his eye was beginning to throb. Dean Blaine prided himself on his unflappable demeanor in dealing with the students; however, the person currently on the line was not enrolled at Lander. Aside from that, there were just some things that got under his skin.
There was a murmur of words from the phone.
“Save the guilt trip. I’ve told you people more times than I care to count that I’m done. There are plenty of capable, active Hero
es out there who can fix your problem. I know that because I trained them. That’s what I do now, since you seem to have forgotten.”
Another murmur crackled across the lines.
“Well, if time is such an issue then quit wasting time with me and find someone who’s willing to help. Good day!”
Dean Blaine slammed the receiver down, cracking off a small piece of plastic in the process. He took several deep breaths and got up from his desk. It took him a few moments of rooting through one of the drawers in his file cabinet, but he finally emerged with a small white bottle. He poured of glass of water, then deposited two tablets from the bottle into the glass and watched as they fizzed enthusiastically. Only after downing the bubbly liquid in a single gulp did he retake his seat.
Dean Blaine knew he should take it as compliment. He’d been retired for nearly a decade and yet they still called him when things went too far south too fast. No one wanted to accept that he’d retired, even after all this time. Not too shabby for a guy who had barely made it into the HCP to begin with. He had to believe some of the reluctance to let him go was hype, though. After all, he was one of the few graduates still left from his graduating class. The Class of Legends, people had called it.
Globe may have been at the top, but all ten Heroes who came from that class went on to become famous worldwide. Though, admittedly, some gained fame from less than ideal circumstances.
He mentally ticked through the class roster. Globe and Intra were dead, of course. Wisp was in prison. Shimmerpath was missing. Bull-Rush had retired and was now in the private sector. Raze was considered wanted and dangerous. His mental accounting stalled on Raze. They had been roommates nearly their whole time at Lander. They sparred often, honing their skills against a fellow well-trained opponent. No one had been more surprised than he when word spread about Raze’s crimes.
Dean Blaine rose from his chair once again, this time heading for the door. He would go watch the juniors’ class; it would be going on around now. Seeing the students always centered him. It reminded him of his own days at Lander. Years spent fighting, competing, and bonding with fellow Supers. Of a time when he lived and trained with his best friends. Sometimes, when he was watching the young ones work toward their goal, he could almost forget what had happened to the rest of his class, could lose himself in that ignorant memory of decades ago. Only almost, though. Wherever his mind let him wander, reality always just a step behind waiting to pounce.
90.
“I think you’ll like my parents,” Sasha said as she and Vince sat on her couch and flipped through the meager offering of television. “They’re pretty chill people on the whole. I was thinking we could all do dinner one night.”
“That seems nice,” Vince said evenly. He’d never actually had a girlfriend before, so meeting the parents was going to be a new experience for him. One that he hadn’t heard the nicest things about.
“Yup. So what else are you going to do with your down time? I don’t want you to be lonely if everyone is occupied with their parents,” Sasha said.
“Nothing to worry about,” Vince told her. “Alice and Nick both have single parents that work all the time, so apparently they aren’t coming. Hershel’s mom is going to be here, though, and so are both of Mary’s parents. So worst case scenario I’ll be part of a trio for the weekend.”
“Long as you save Saturday night for me,” Sasha said with a smile. “My parents will love you.”
“You think so?”
“Sure, what’s not to love? You’re a Super with an awesome ability, you’re smart, you’re kind, and pretty darn cute if I do say so,” Sasha said.
“That’s very sweet,” Vince said, squirming a little at his own lack of understanding of how to take so many compliments. Instead he opted to change the subject. “So your parents wanted you with a Super, I guess?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe. They’re convinced that two Supers are more likely to pop out Super grandbabies,” Sasha said. “Which is great, for when I’m, like, thirty. But I mean, come on, what teenage girl wants to hear her mom rag on the guy she took to the prom for being an inferior genetic supplier?”
“That does seem a bit odd,” Vince agreed.
“They mellowed out after senior year, though,” Sasha continued, a devilish grin on her face. “I got them to back off by showing them how much worse it could be.”
“What’d you do?”
“I let a Powered guy take me out one night. All of sudden the normal boys didn’t seem so bad,” Sasha chuckled. “Since then they’ve been way cooler about it all. Sort of a moot point, though, because I wound up with a Super boyfriend anyway.”
“Heh, yeah, you did,” Vince said. He squirmed again, but this time for a very different uncomfortable reason.
* * *
“Good evening, Alice, have I disturbed your studies?”
“No, everything is fine,” Alice replied, moving the recently picked up phone to her right ear. She was sitting at her desk working through some notes when her father’s ringtone had blared out.
“Excellent to hear. I was calling to inform you that my plane will be arriving Friday afternoon. I will be in town until Saturday mid-morning,” Charles Adair told her.
“Wait, you’re actually coming in this weekend?”
“Was I unclear? Yes, I will be there for a little under a day. I’ve already gotten my hotel set up for the stay, but I would like to invite you to dinner during my time there. I could pick you up at six.”
“Oh... yeah. That sounds great. I’ll see you Friday at six.”
“Excellent. Dress appropriately. Good night, dear.”
“Night, Daddy.”
Alice set down the phone, trying to suppress the surprise welling up inside of her. Her dad was actually going to fly in specifically to see her for Parents’ Weekend. That was downright flabbergasting.
She glanced over at her poor, already stuffed to its breaking point, closet. When he said to dress appropriately, it meant he was having dinner somewhere extremely high class. This might just call for a whole new outfit.
She shoved aside her notes and fired up her computer. She needed to see what times the local stores were open until tomorrow.
* * *
“I need a favor,” Mary said, plopping down next to Nick on the common room sofa.
“Wow, you really don’t pussy-foot around, do you?” Nick replied, setting down the book he’d been reading.
“Would it do any good?” Mary asked.
“Not even a little. So what do you need?”
“Alice is going to ask me to go shopping with her tomorrow after class. I’m leading a study group that evening, so I can’t,” Mary explained.
“Wait, back up a second. Did I miss the part where your power lets you see the future?”
“No, you missed the part where the girl in the room next to me let out a very sharp mental squeal of joy because she found out her father is coming to visit. She started browsing around for stores to buy a dinner outfit at, and then decided she’d prefer to have someone to talk with while she shops,” Mary said.
“Okay, see, I think I know where this is going, and I have to tell you I am really leaning toward no,” Nick said. “In fact, it’s less of a lean than it is me standing directly on top of no. Like, it’s under my feet, the no. I’m saying no, if you didn’t get that.”
“Please, Nick. I think it’ll be good for her to have someone to share an excited day with.”
“Uh huh, and I’m the natural second choice after you?” Nick asked.
“Well, no, not really. I think I can talk her into it, though,” Mary replied.
“Why me?”
“Because you two are actually pretty similar. Besides, you know more about modern fashion trends than any other guy in this house,” Mary said.
“Damn, you are just awful at this,” Nick told her.
“That’s why I try to avoid doing it. I can’t come up with a better solution, unfortunately. Tru
st me, I tried.”
Nick thought it over for a moment, turning the situation around in his head. Mary was coming to him with a genuine need. That wasn’t a situation he should outright dismiss.
“I don’t do favors,” Nick said. “I do, however, do deals. So you want me to say yes when you convince Alice to ask me to go shopping with her? Then I want a day.”
“A day?”
“Yes. One twenty four hour period in which you promise to stay the hell out of my thoughts. No peeking, no listening, no popping in. On your honor. One day,” Nick said.
“Agreed,” Mary said with some slight hesitation.
“Then consider it done,” Nick said. “Assuming you really can talk her into asking me, of course.”
91.
“Pale pink, or off pink?” Alice asked, holding up yet another pair of nearly identical shoes.
“That depends. When you say your father is coming to town, is that slang for your daddy, or your handler as some girls call them?”
“You’re inferring these shoes will make me look like a hooker,” Alice replied.
“And they say the blonde ones are all looks,” Nick said with an unfazed grin. He wasn’t sure how Mary had talked her into it (for that matter, neither was Alice), but Alice had been convinced that Nick would be an acceptable shopping substitute. So instead of spending his evening relaxing and planning for the weekend, Nick was stuck on shopping duty. In truth, he’d been down this road many times with many girls, but he found that if they knew you didn’t mind then they felt encouraged to bring you along more often. That much, at least, he wanted to avoid.
“I know they aren’t perfectly high class, but I thought with the dress I picked out it wouldn’t be pushing the envelope too much,” Alice said, defending her selection.
“You thought wrong. If we were going out to a bar or with our friends I would say no problem. If we’re talking people with actual fashion then I think we both know you’ve gone over the line of class,” Nick said.