by Hayes, Drew
“We generally don’t do cake and champagne, that’s for sure,” Vince said. In the kitchen, Thomas was helping Jill as she sliced into white frosting covering spongy chocolate cake. Nothing was written on top of it—in the wake of last May’s events, secrecy was all the more important—but no one needed frosted words to tell them what they were celebrating.
“Maybe the HCP needs to take a few pages out of my book. Those are some excellent motivating forces,” Nick replied. He lowered his voice slightly, letting the din of the crowd mask his next words. “How are things looking for this year, by the way? Any big scares or surprises?”
“They didn’t cut anyone from the class—from any of the classes, actually. Though we did lose Terrance. No one knows exactly why, but I heard he came upon some bloody stuff during the rescue efforts. Decided this wasn’t the life he wanted after all.”
Nick was unsurprised that seeing real danger had spooked a potential Hero into quitting. If anything, he was shocked that only one had taken the off-ramp. The HCP, it seemed, did a good job of screening who had the stomach for the kind of work they were learning.
“Can’t say I blame him; that was a rough night. It’s nice of them to give you a pass since you missed final exams, though.”
“I was sort of worried we’d have to go through something today. Though, after all those months of training, I think I’m as ready as I could be for it,” Vince said.
“Tell me about it. I caught a few of your and Hank’s training matches near the end. I feel pretty confident that you easily could have passed whatever test they threw at you.”
“Maybe so.” Vince looked down into the bubbly depths of his grape juice, watching them pop one by one as they reached the surface. “But graduation is a long way off. There’s no certainty I’ll pass every test from now until then.”
“True,” Nick agreed. “But when has that ever stopped you? Don’t fret too much about the future, Silver. That’s not your strongpoint. You just focus on getting through one day, one trial at a time. Do that enough, and I guarantee you’ll end up wearing one of those ceremonial white capes.”
“I’ll do my best.” Vince gulped down the rest of his juice, then grabbed the bottle to refill it. “If nothing else, it’ll be interesting to try. HCP classes are never boring.”
Nick was amazed that, after all these years of friendship, he could still be blown away by Vince’s talent for understatement.
15.
It was strange to be back in the classroom they hadn’t returned to since they were freshmen. The gym was an ever-present part of their lives, just like the rooms where their specialized teachers trained them. But this was different. It was a piece of the past they’d thought behind them, and now, stepping foot into the room once more, things seemed at once the same and yet different. Smaller, somehow. This room had terrified them when they came to it the first time. Now, after all they’d seen and been through, it was no longer so imposing. If anything, it seemed a bit homey.
Dean Blaine entered only seconds before class was about to start, preserving his tradition from their freshmen year and eliciting a few muffled chuckles. He took his position at the front of the room, gazing at the eighteen students who remained out of the more than fifty he’d once seen here. It was a somber moment he took in every year, appreciating all the hours of effort that had brought the students to this point in their careers. Some he’d expected to come this far; others had outright surprised him. But either way, by the year’s end, only a little more than half would finish their journey. So little time, and so much to prepare them for.
“This is not the same class you took as freshmen,” Dean Blaine announced, not bothering with preamble. “Although many of the subjects we will cover are, in fact, the same, what has changed, what should have changed, is you. None of you are freshmen, just stepping into the Hero world with wide, naïve eyes brimming with visions of glory. You now know what it is we do here. What Heroes are. You understand that, as much as there are accolades and cheering, there is also blood, and loss.”
The cheerful mood of the room had quickly subsided, too many memories of their brief glimpse at what they’d be facing were bubbling up inside them. Dean Blaine noted the sentiment carefully. It was good that they saw the truth of what lay before them; they’d need to walk into this world with their eyes open if they wanted to survive. Still, it was best not to let them dwell too much. A quick reminder here and there would be sufficient.
“But that isn’t all there is in the Hero world,” Dean Blaine continued. “Some of you got to see the best part of it during the attack on Lander. How many of you were able to personally save someone from certain death? Or even likely death?”
Not every hand in the room went up, but many did, and as they rose, so too did the overall spirit of the room. Hershel began to lift his arm, then changed his mind. He wasn’t certain he should take credit for Roy’s actions, even if they were part of the same team.
“We don’t always get to do that.” Dean Blaine lowered his eyes from the students, letting his mind drift back to the smiling, grateful faces he’d seen when he wore the mask. “As Heroes, sometimes we must concern ourselves with the greatest good possible, and there are times when, no matter what we do, people will die. However, when you do get to save someone, when you get to know that there is a life continuing on in this world because of what you did, what only you could do, that is a feeling unlike anything else.”
He basked in the memories for a few moments longer, then lifted his head. Those days were behind him. Now, he could only save people by making sure his students were as capable as possible.
“There is good, and there is bad. There is heartache, regret, triumph, and countless other things that come with being a Hero. In this class, I will strive to cover the most important aspects, doing my best to prepare you mentally for the hard choices that lie ahead. As before, this will be a discussion class. And trust me when I say that what happens here is just as, if not more, important in determining who makes the cut than your other classes. Having power is vital, but knowing how to use it is by far the most crucial aspect in what makes a Hero.”
Backs became straighter and eyes more alert. They were down to the wire, and they knew it. None of them intended to fail out because of a simple discussion class. Dean Blaine resisted the urge to smile; it was always interesting to see the fire in those who made it to senior year. Interesting, and a touch inspiring.
“The first question I’m going to ask you all to think about is the simplest one, with the most difficult answer,” Dean Blaine said. “Why are there Heroes?”
Tentatively, Rich Weaver raised his hand. “Um, we covered this freshman year. They’re certified Supers who are taught to minimize damage. Heroes can be covered by insurance and prevent needless loss of life.”
“While you aren’t technically wrong, what you just gave me was a freshman’s answer,” Dean Blaine replied. “You have just told me why, in the face of discovering that Supers were real, our government saw the need for a task force to protect the public that was comprised of them. But that wasn’t my question. I asked you why are there Heroes? Why not merely people in uniforms or armor who keep the peace? Why this system?”
Hands that were halfway up lowered quickly as the breadth of what he was asking sank in. Good: they’d learned that not every question was meant to be guessed at until the answer was hit. Sometimes reflection and contemplation were the best routes to uncovering an answer.
“Take your time,” Dean Blaine instructed. “In fact, take until next class. There are many answers that are correct in their own ways, and I’m as interested in the path your minds take as I am in their ultimate destination. Just put some real thought into it, and I bet you’ll have a theory worth sharing.”
Dean Blaine glanced up at the clock, purely for show since he wore a wristwatch on his left arm, and clucked his tongue. “Well, seeing as I just gave you your first assignment, I suppose we could either go over the
syllabus a bit, or I could release you early for an extra—”
“Syllabus!” It was impossible to tell who started the cry, as it was quickly joined by many, until the word threatened to bowl Dean Blaine over. No doubt the memory of the first day’s early release their freshman year still scarred their minds. They were determined not to be tricked again.
Dean Blaine repressed a chuckle as he pulled the syllabi from his briefcase. They were definitely learning.
16.
As the students made their way into the gym, they were all surprised to discover that it was not only Professor Fletcher and Professor Pendleton awaiting them, but in fact all of their professors. Stone, Cole, Baker, and Hill were also present. Even Dean Blaine stepped through a side door, having clearly sprinted around them after his class ended to make it there. Odd as it was, they’d all been trained for three years under unusual conditions, so they did what they always did at the start of gym: fell into line and waited for instructions.
Once everyone was settled, Professor Fletcher stepped forward to address them. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why almost the entire staff is here, and I don’t intend to keep you in suspense. They’re here because I’m about to explain the senior year curriculum to you, and once I have, there’s a good chance you’re going to have some questions. Questions that I won’t be able to answer without their help. This time has been specially put aside for you all to figure things out, so don’t waste it. But I’m getting ahead of myself. First, the curriculum.”
Professor Fletcher didn’t yell or threaten the way George had; in fact, he barely ever raised his voice. He preferred to rule with a quiet, careful control that was held in place by respect and a bit of fear. The latter was only necessary with the younger classes, though. By this point, every professor had proven their skill to the students, and the ones dumb enough to ignore that fact had long ago been drummed out.
“Your freshman year, we focused almost solely on personal development. Getting your bodies strong enough to endure our classes and your minds sharp enough to actually think about how you used your powers. Sophomore year was about teamwork, because learning to coordinate with your fellow Heroes will be a skill that saves you—and them—more times than you’ll be able to count. Junior year we taught you how to fight multiple opponents, because criminals don’t politely wait their turn in the real world. This year, we bring it all together, as well as look toward what’s coming next. So, what’s your curriculum going to be? That is, for the most part, entirely up to you.”
As well-trained as the seniors were, this still elicited visible confusion and a few hushed whispers as his words sank in. Professor Fletcher allowed it for several seconds; a little fear got the adrenaline pumping and made for sharper thinking.
“Don’t worry, we’re not flinging you out on your own,” he continued at last. “Your professors will still be here to coordinate with you, setting up whatever you need for your training as well as helping to teach you along the way. But make no mistake: you are going to be in the driver’s seat for this year, and how much you improve or fall behind will be dependent upon how you spend your time. This is the end of the line. If you graduate from here, you will no longer be students. You will be Heroes, and there won’t be a set of veteran combatants on hand to tell you how to get stronger. That’s why we do the final year this way; it’s effectively what you’ll spend the rest of your life doing, only with training wheels. This is where you show us not only the sort of Hero you’d make right now, but how well you’ll grow ten, fifteen, however many years down the line.”
Confusion had given way to understanding, which had led to resolve. Now that they’d figured out the why, they were contemplating just how they would train. Professor Fletcher liked that about the older students. After they’d accepted a task, all thought immediately went to getting it done.
“But, lest you think the whole year will be one giant free-for-all, we’re also going to be testing you at regular intervals. Every month, there will be a class-wide exam. Some of these you’ll learn about early on and can plan for. Others will be a surprise. Some will allow teams to form, some will force teams at random, and some will be solo. In every exam, we will replicate situations you very well might face out in the real world. We expect you to do your best, but we don’t expect you to be perfect. What you learn from your mistakes and how they affect your training are equally as important as your actual scores. Because that is the harsh truth of being a Hero: you will make mistakes. People will die because of the wrong call you made, and worse, sometimes they’ll die because you made the right one. When those days come, you can either let the despair swallow you up, or you can work like hell so that the next time, things might just turn out differently.”
Professor Fletcher had never experienced this as a Hero, of course, but he’d seen too many missions go sideways when he worked for the company. Some units were built so perfectly that they were nearly unstoppable, like the one Transport and Numbers ran. But not every unit was like that. There were only so many Supers in the world, and of those, not everyone wanted to—or could— do what the company asked. Carl Fletcher understood what it was to make a mistake, even if he hadn’t worn a mask when he did it, and he knew how important it was that these students learn to handle their failures in a constructive way.
“Now, I’m sure you all have lots of questions, but you should save those for the people who can answer them best. Don’t try to lay out a game plan for the entire year today, just figure out what a good first step is. Your plans will change—they’ll have to—so for now, focus on getting things started. As of right now, your future as Heroes is in your own hands. Work hard, think harder, and do everything you can to get even a little bit closer to that White Cape Ceremony.”
Professor Fletcher took another look at his students, all working their brains so hard he could practically hear the gears turning inside their skulls. They’d all done well, impossibly well, to make it this far. He’d be curious to see what they could pull off when left to their own devices. If last year’s class was any indication, it would certainly be interesting.
“All right everyone, find your teacher and make a plan!”
17.
“Did… I mean… they knew this was coming, didn’t they?” Vince asked. Unlike many of the others, who had rushed forward to get in line for discussions with their teachers, Vince, Alice, Mary, Roy, and Alex all lingered in place.
“They must have,” Alice agreed. “Even if Hank didn’t train Heroes, there’s no way Roy’s… sorry, Titan, wouldn’t have known what the HCP’s senior year was.”
Amid the seniors rapidly trying to figure out what sort of training to commit themselves to, there were several who looked unworried by the sudden news. Everyone who had been at the summer training camp was surprised, certainly, but they already had a good idea of what sort of programs they needed. That had, after all, been a large part of what made up the summer training experience. Yes, there were weekly sessions with Hank or whatever Super was willing to come pitch in, and they’d certainly gotten guidance when it was needed, but for the most part, they’d been left to their own self-direction. At the time, it had seemed like nothing more than a change of pace from the usual Lander regime. Only now, facing down their final curriculum before graduation, could they understand what had actually been happening.
They’d all been given a head start. Not just on their senior year, which was useful in its own right, but on the very skills they’d need to continue training once their time in college was over. Without even realizing it was happening, they’d been taught the basics of self-education, and that, it seemed, was a lesson they’d keep leaning on for a long time to come.
Slowly, they walked over and got into line with everyone else. If their teachers were at all surprised by the number of students coming forward with well-formed, if not complete, training plans, they said nothing. After all, it was expected that everyone in the HCP would keep training over breaks. Some
had just taken that a little more seriously than others.
* * *
“How do we do this?” Alice asked as soon as she stepped in front of Professor Pendleton. She, Britney, and Will were the only ones continuing their education in Subtlety, so unlike the other groups, they didn’t bother getting into a line. Instead, they all just clumped up around their teacher to have a general discussion. As she joined the others, Alice was almost certain she could feel the occasional glance from Professor Hill, but she pointedly ignored it. She had no regrets about her choice, and he could either deal with that or not. It was his problem. “I mean, independent education I get. I’m just not sure what I’m allowed to ask for. Subtlety depends on interacting with people and things in a different way than just kicking ass. Will you set up entire elaborate conspiracies for us to uncover?”
“Why? You think we’re running short on real ones?” Professor Pendleton replied. “I’d say that, to start off, you should each pick which aspect of Subtlety you really want to focus on and try and get better at that. For Britney, that’s obviously going to be infiltration and asset allocation—”
“That is a very fancy way to say theft,” Britney pointed out.
“In the field, we use the fancy words. It’s only thieving if you’re doing it for personal gain,” Professor Pendleton corrected.