by Drew Hayes
“Whoops,” Alex said. “Sorry.”
“Eh, no worries,” came a lilting, somewhat familiar voice.
Alex blinked and lifted his head, focusing on the inhabitant of the tube he’d just smacked into. She had long, dark hair and the bikini she wore exposed plenty of her caramel-colored skin.
“Hey. I know you. You’re the chick that beat me and Vince in the finals,” Alex declared.
The girl laughed lightly. “In fairness, I beat a lot of people in the finals.”
“Oh yeah. You had the really pretty voice.”
“Well, thank you. Always nice to meet a fan.”
“Don’t know if I’d call it that,” Alex said. “But I respect the talent. I’m Alex, by the way.”
“Selena,” she said. “You’re the other telekinetic, right?”
“For the love of... fuck it. Sure, why not?” Alex said, a measure of defeat in his voice.
“Did I say something offensive?” Selena asked.
“No, no. Not your fault. Forget it. Let’s focus on you instead. What exactly is your power?”
“You mean my merry harmonies don’t qualify?”
“You had a pretty voice,” Alex admitted. “Not pretty enough to make us just up and lose without a fight, though.”
“I’ve had better compliments, but I’ll take it,” Selena said. “The truth is I’m classified as an enchanter. I cause certain effects in people when I sing.”
“Like making everyone who hears it your love slave?” Alex asked.
“That’s one example, yes. It’s one of my more limited techniques, however. To influence someone that profoundly requires constant stimulus,” Selena said.
“You, uh, you sort of lost me there,” Alex said.
“Sorry, how can I put this? A person’s mind is resilient. It tends to buck against outside influences. So to take you over like I did in the finals, I had to keep singing the whole time. If I’d stopped you would have come back to your senses pretty quickly,” Selena explained.
“There’s another option?” Alex asked.
“Sure. I can influence people in more subtle ways. Ways that don’t throw up the same mental red flags and can persist even after my voice stops.”
“Huh. Don’t suppose you could provide an example?”
“I can do better than that,” Selena said. She tilted back her head and took a deep breath. What next emerged from her was a throaty, fast-paced melody. It emanated outward, rippling through the air and into the ear drums of those on the river. As it spread, so did a wave of calm. Backs unstraightened, knotted muscles began to loosen, and worries slipped out of minds, splashing abandoned into the water below.
As the last of Selena’s notes faded, she lowered her head and looked back at Alex.
“So what did that do?” Alex asked.
“I helped people chill out a little,” Selena explained. “Made them feel happy and more at ease with the world.”
“I see,” Alex said. “Any potential side effects from messing with their heads like that?”
“Nah,” Selena assured him. “I didn’t do anything bad, just made them all feel a little bit better. I mean, worst case scenario, some people’s inhibitions might go down a bit, but that’s just a side effect of feeling good. You tend to worry less.”
Alex barked out a laugh. “So you make people feel relaxed and possibly lower inhibitions. You’re like alcohol without the liver disease!”
Selena’s well-featured face creased with concern. “Oh yeah... everyone is drinking, aren’t they?”
“Not everyone,” Alex said. “But a lot of us.” To prove the point he produced his beer and downed another swig.
Selena bit gently on her lower lip. “I forgot about that.”
“Why does it matter?”
“It probably doesn’t,” Selena said, though which of them she was trying to assure was up for debate. “It’s just that alcohol has a significant effect on the brain chemistry, and what I did will have an effect for at least a few more hours. And sometimes two separate influences can... compound on one another.”
“So people will be super relaxed and happy. Doesn’t sound like such a bad thing,” Alex said.
“Yeah... yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” Selena said. She reached over into her own cooler and produced a beer. Normally she wasn’t much of a drinker, but suddenly she found a strong craving for something to settle her nerves. Pity her own ability didn’t work on her.
“Wow, you worry too much,” Alex said. “I can feel your stress from here. Chill out a little, pretty lady. It’s the river trip!”
She stared at Alex for a moment. She’d nearly forgotten he was also a telepath. The only one here since the short girl had skipped. That might come in handy. If people got unbalanced he should at least be able to provide some sort of a heads up. Selena made a mental resolution not to let this boy out of her sight until she was certain there wasn’t going to be any trouble.
It would be fine, though. She’d only used a little bit of power, and people certainly hadn’t had all that much to drink. Besides, she’d just sung them into a more peaceful, happier frame of mind. There was no way that could backfire.
Probably.
122.
Mary snapped her book shut with a sigh. Everyone had been gone since the morning and she was finding herself uncharacteristically bored. Sure, she was used to being alone, but the thing about living in the woods as a teenager was that there was always something to do. Wood to chop, food to hunt, water to gather, even traps to set. On a college campus, life was much easier. That was a good thing most of the time, but on days like this is was a solid pain in the butt.
Mary was in the library, the one under Lander’s surface accessible only to those in the HCP, reading up on some historical Supers. At least, that had been her plan. Unfortunately, only a few minutes into the book and the words began slipping around the page, freed from their positions by the reality-shifting power of her boredom. Or at least that’s what it felt like. Admittedly, she could have had Mr. Transport pop her home just as easily as to the library, but her parents were swinging by tomorrow to grab her for a spring road trip and she doubted they wanted to be disturbed a day early. They were big on taking time out to keep the romance in their marriage alive. Which left her a day to kill.
Mary noticed some movement from the corner of her eye. When she turned and faced the source she fleetingly wondered if she really had gone insane. Standing on the side of the table, waving for her attention, was a small orange paper cutout of a human shape. From the size and color Mary guessed it had been made from a sticky-note, and from the way it was jumping around trying to grab her attention she assumed that sticky-note had come from an ancient tome of great and unspeakable power.
The paper man seemed to realize she was looking at him, because he pointed his arm at her, then toward the rows of books off to the left.
“You want me to go into the stacks?” Mary asked it. She was taking it pretty well, but then again, when you’re a telepath in a school for people who bend (and occasionally break) the rules of matter and physics, your threshold for weird tends to be higher than most.
The paper man nodded his head, then began scampering over on all fours towards her. It wasn’t particularly dignified; however, it was more efficient than trying to balance on a pair of two-dimensional feet. He reached her side of the table in seconds and pulled himself back to a standing position. He pointed once more, this time at the hand she had resting on the table.
“What?” There’s nothing in it,” Mary said, holding her palm face-up to prove the point. In a flash the paper man had scampered into her upturned hand and perched himself there. Once situated, he pointed toward the same area of the stacks once more.
“I see; you still want me to go, you just want to come with me.”
The paper man nodded and gestured once more. Mary stared at him a bit longer, then shrugged and got up from her seat. Sure, this was eyes-meltingly weird, but it w
asn’t boring. That was enough to keep her entertained for now.
They entered the stacks on the row her guide had indicated. She began walking down them, eyes alert for anything out of the ordinary. They’d only gone down a few rows when the paper man patted her hand and pointed her to the right.
Mary made sure she had the correct row, then turned and kept advancing forward. They went on like this for a few minutes, the paper man leading her deeper into the twists and turns that the library stacks offered. Mary was impressed at the sheer volume of books these different sections could hold. She hadn’t spent much time in the library, though that was likely to change after gaining firsthand knowledge of how comprehensive their collection was. The paper man pointed her down one last turn and the purpose of their adventure became abundantly clear.
“Hi there,” squeaked a girl hanging on the very top row of books by her fingers. “I don’t suppose you’d mind helping me down from up here?”
“Not at all,” Mary said. “You’re only about five feet off the ground, though; why not just let go?”
“I’m scared of heights,” the girl said. “I climbed up here to get a book, and then I made the mistake of looking down, and... I sort of freaked out and now I can’t look down to find my footing or let go and my hands are really starting to hurt.”
“Right,” Mary said. “Just close your eyes and try and relax your hands. I’ve got a good grip on you.”
“But you’re standing over... right, you’re the telepathic girl. Okay, okay; just give me second while I try to loosen my grip.” The dangling girl took a series of deep breaths. Mary wasn’t sure how long she’d been up there, though from the way her forearms were twitching it was clear she wouldn’t have been for much longer.
“I’m letting go,” the girl announced. Mary pulled her away carefully, focusing on keeping the girl steady without squeezing too hard. Mary lowered her gently to the ground, the girl blasting out a groan of relief when her feet touched the floor.
“You’re safe,” Mary said. The girl wobbled at first, then leaned against the wall of books as she got her bearings back.
“Thank you so so so so much,” the girl said, her eyes still squeezed shut. “I just wanted a stupid book about the first animator and I’ve been stuck up there for twenty minutes.”
“No problem,” Mary said. “We freshmen have to stick together. You’re Agatha, right?”
“Yeah,” Agatha confirmed. “And you’re Mary, the number one ranked girl.”
“Eh, that was over half a year ago. I’m certain things will change when we get reevaluated,” Mary deflected.
“That’s not what everyone else thinks,” Agatha said, her eyelids slowly parting.
“Thank you,” Mary said. She noticed the paper man in her palm was pointing toward Agatha. Mary obliged by mentally air lifting him over to the still-recovering girl, depositing him on her shoulder.
“What is he, exactly?” Mary asked.
“Oh, this little guy? Just an animation,” Agatha said, picking up the paper guide. There was a small flash of turquoise and the paper hung limply in her hand. “There were some sticky-notes on the shelf. I juiced them up and sent them out to find help.”
“I see,” Mary said. “I’ve heard about that power. You can control inanimate objects, right?”
“Sort of,” Agatha said. “It’s more like I put a little piece of myself into them, my own energy if you will, and then they follow my commands.”
“That’s kind of cool,” Mary observed.
“Yeah,” Agatha agreed. “That’s just the first level for animators, though. Those of us who are really good can sense the location of our objects, see and hear through them, even control them like an extension of our body rather than just as a henchman.”
“Wow,” Mary said. “Can you do any of that?”
“The sensing, yes; the seeing and hearing, sort of. The extension part is still miles beyond me, though,” Agatha said. “Otherwise I would have juiced up the entire shelf and had it lean down to lower me to the ground.”
“You couldn’t give it an order to do that?”
“I could, but it might have interpreted ‘help me down’ as ‘collapse totally’ since that was that fastest way to comply,” Agatha explained. “Anyway, thank you again for the help. I’m going to go back to my dorm room and lie down until my hands stop shaking now.”
“Understandable,” Mary said. “Nice meeting you, Agatha.”
“You, too, Mary,” Agatha said. She headed off toward the exit, her steps still cautious, as though she expected to be swept into the air at any moment. Mary, for her part, turned her attention to the tomes surrounding her. Now that she knew about all the information here, it seemed her day might not end up so boring after all.
123.
The initial plan was for the tubes to be stacked up carefully in a designated area by the riverbank. That way they could be accounted for and easily dispersed the next day. Unfortunately, that plan failed to take into account the effect of several hours’ drinking (and one Super’s relaxation melody) on the mind of the average adolescent. The result was that as the Lander students emerged from the river at the designated point, a veritable clusterfuck of rubber tubes formed. They were tossed, dropped, or sometimes left to drift down the stream, forgotten entirely. Angela and Ben had prepared for this, having been contributors to the mess last year, and were managing to at least stop the ones breaking for freedom down the blue aquatic road.
As a result, they were of little help as the predominantly intoxicated teens began the arduous task of setting up their tents. Coupled with the fact that many of the students possessed very destructive capabilities, it was thanks only to the few who had remained sober that the campsite didn’t wind up as a smoking crater in the ground.
“Okay,” Vince said, wiping the sweat from his brow. He’d need to take a dip in the river again when this was all done just to feel clean. “I’ve got mine, Sasha’s, and Alex’s all done.”
“I’ve completed tents for myself, Jill, Stella, Violet,” Thomas replied. His power made the set up a much faster process since he could use his energy to grasp multiple tools simultaneously.
“Meanwhile, I’ve barely managed to put up my own and Alice’s, thanks to her insistence on helping,” Nick grunted from the ground where he was tying off a stake.
“You needed my help,” Alice protested, her words clearly slurred. “You’re drunk.”
“Quite right; what would I have done without you tripping into the fabric, uprooting the entire structure and forcing me to start all over?” Nick said.
“Damn skippy,” Alice said, crossing her arms.
“Besides, you’re drunk. I’ve only managed to get a buzz since someone keeps stealing my beers,” Nick said.
“At least we know where this one is,” Vince said, pointing at Alice. “Has anyone seen the rest of the girls?”
“I’ve kept an eye on them,” Thomas assured him. “They’re over near the bus, milling with the rest of the group.”
“That seems safe enough. And Alex?” Vince asked.
“Last I saw he was still hanging around that Selena girl,” Thomas said.
“Good for him,” Nick said. “That girl is hot with a capital sex.”
“Pffft. That doesn’t even make sense. And you can’t say stuff like that, anyway. You’re a bound man now, you and Bubbles keep going out together,” Alice said. Normally she would have done a much better job keeping the spite out of her voice.
“Bubbles is great, but the day I stop appreciating the female form in all its splendor is the day they’re laying me in the ground. And even then I’m not making any promises,” Nick shot back, ignoring her tone.
“You’re such a goddamned asshole.” Alice swayed herself to a standing position and began wobbling off into the woods at a brisk pace.
The boys stood uncertain for a few seconds, trying to comprehend her reaction.
“Huh, I didn’t think it was that bad,”
Nick said. “I figured at most she’d punch me in the arm.”
“That did seem to be a bit of an overreaction,” Vince agreed. “I mean, in comparison to the stuff you normally say, that was pretty tame.”
“I think perhaps both of you missed the crux of that situation,” Thomas said. “Regardless, she seems to getting away from camp without slowing, so it might be a good idea to go after her.”
“You guys have fun with that,” Nick said. “If I chase her down today I’ll be filling out a domestic abuse complaint tomorrow. Not sure why she only hits me.”
“You do the most to provoke it,” Vince said. “But that’s fine; you get some food working. It will be dark pretty soon and everyone will be hungry. Thomas and I will go make sure Alice is okay.”
“Oh it is Fucking Go Time!” That declaration was launched in the audible tenor of Stella Hawkins, voice thick with aggression and fury, emanating from the collective area near the bus.
“Or we’ll go find out what’s going on before Stella seriously hurts someone,” Thomas amended, immediately dashing over to the area.
“Crap, there are a lot of people milling around. This might be bad,” Vince noticed. “I should go help Thomas; Nick, do you mind?”
Nick was already on his feet, producing a flashlight and a compass from his bag. “No, I get it. If there’s a Super throwdown you and Thomas can help keep the peace. That means the 'calm down the drunken princess' mission falls to the guy without astounding powers.”
“Your powers are very astounding,” Vince told him. “Just not in this particular venue. I think they’re well-suited to your task, though. Talking down Alice will require a little bit of luck.”
“Saints preserve us,” Nick said. The two boys parted in separate directions, Nick heading north and Vince just over to the buses.
The crowd at the buses was thick and difficult to cut through. Their intoxication and fascination with any altercation made the situation even more troublesome. Thomas had handled this hurdle by conjuring a wedge out of orange energy and plowing right through. Vince, on the other hand, was left with slipping through slowly, apologizing as he went. Finally he made it to the front. The sight that met his eyes was one of Roy Daniels and Stella Hawkins, both a foot or so off the ground cocooned in a familiar orange glow. Thomas stood in the center, sweat beginning to materialize on his face. This had to be a heavy burden for him, especially as both captives struggled violently.