by Hayes, Drew
“Agreed. The only way one should do a thing like that is if they had proof – real, solid, substantial proof that Charles had done unforgivable things. It wouldn’t be easy to come by, I’m sure. Locating such proof might very well drive a Hero into hiding, or force them to appear to be working against the people who were really their allies.”
“Blaine, if you have something to say then perhaps it’s best if you come out and say it. I spent years with Phil dawdling and beating around the bush about his feelings. You’ll find my patience for such half-hearted measures has worn thin since then.” Clarissa set her wine glass to the side; the socializing part of this evening was obviously done.
“I’ve come into information recently that points to Globe not being the villain we were told he was.” The time for delicacy was past; he either put his cards on the table now or lost the opportunity. “The sort of information that, if true, would make me interested in helping an old friend who has been cast out by the community. I would just be me, mind you; not the dean of Lander or a representative of the DVA. That might change if we can find some of that theoretical proof, but until then I’d only be able to offer myself, and the help of a few closely trusted friends. In theory, do you think Globe would be interested in discussing such collaboration?”
Clarissa’s eyes swept the room once more, looking for any signs of an ambush she’d missed previously. She found nothing, because there was nothing to find. “I think, in theory, that Globe would absolutely be open to such an arrangement. In fact, if I were hypothetically in contact with him, I’d say he’s been expecting you to reach out for a while now. He’d likely even be working on a present to show his goodwill. I could probably arrange a meeting at some point, with enough planning. Hypothetically, of course.”
“Of course.” Despite Clarissa putting hers aside, Dean Blaine treated himself to another sip of wine. The way things were going, he had a feeling tonight’s progress would be worth celebrating.
203.
“So far it looks like ten or so people in total, all of whom were still attending our public meetings before we shrank the group. None of them were entirely sure what to make of it: some thought it was their friends playing a weird prank, and a few figured it was a kind of glitch after the message vanished.” Tad finished his report, sitting back down at his place in the circle.
There were fewer faces at this gathering of Take Back Lander, their already diminished numbers having shrunk further. Despite Kennedy’s impressive speech at the last meeting, it seemed some members had decided this extracurricular activity was no longer worth the risk. While that was the ultimate effect Will was shooting for, he hoped the numbers wouldn’t fall too much more before the organization collapsed in on itself. The fewer the participants, the harder it was for him to hide in plain sight among them.
“Then whoever did this is either working off old information, or just wants us to think they’re working off old information.” Kennedy, unsurprisingly, didn’t miss a beat as Tad unpacked his findings for the group. She was a truly dangerous opponent, although Will found that part of him was actually enjoying the challenge. As good as the Blonk was at simulating these sorts of high-stakes ventures, there was something about playing the game in earnest that reality’s virtual counterpart could never capture. “Either way, this means we have to decide whether the ones we cut loose are now potential allies or liabilities.”
“Why would our friends be liabilities?” A demure woman wearing earrings that cost more than Will’s first car asked the question, showing impressive composure despite the circumstances.
“Because one of them may not be a friend at all,” Kennedy explained. “While it is possible, and likely, that the Supers are the cause of this headache, there is another possibility. When I chose the best, most dedicated members to form this smaller circle, it’s possible I alienated one of our old members. We could be seeing a personal retribution that has nothing to do with our goals. Now, that is the less likely option, mind you, but it does need to be evaluated before we discuss whether to bring the old members into the new fold. There is a chance, albeit a small one, that we will be inviting our own enemy into the flock.”
Will found himself quite glad he hadn’t come to this meeting with a concrete agenda. If he’d been set on getting Camille back in, he might have needed to push the group in one direction over the other, and that would be extremely dangerous. Kennedy was the one in control, and if things didn’t go whatever way she wanted, he had no doubt she’d take note of the cause. The way she commanded the room, it was obvious everything had been going her way since the start. If one of her followers suddenly started making trouble, steering the group to different ends, it would be a huge flashing sign about where the threats were coming from.
“Wait, why would one of our former members send all that stuff to get back at us then send it to themselves as well?” Tad asked, proving yet again that money couldn’t buy intelligence.
“Have you never heard of the Trojan Horse? The best tool an enemy possesses is the guise of friendship. Frankly, if whoever is doing this didn’t send themselves some threats, or at least lie about it, I’d be sorely disappointed in them. They could walk right in here, claiming to be in the same boat as us, and use the insider knowledge they gained to do more damage.” Kennedy took a slight pause to scan the room briefly, making everyone keenly aware of how little they really knew about each other. “However, if we forgo bringing in the old members then we lose out on potential allies, cutting ourselves off from reinforcements. That too could be playing into the hands of whoever sent those messages.”
Confused looks filled the room, with Will affecting one of his own so as to blend in. For him this level of uncertainty was part of daily life, but to the others it had to be bewildering. Life had right choices and wrong choices; it wasn’t supposed to present muddled options that were so complex and risky. These poor souls; if not for their leader it really would have been child’s play to sweep their whole movement off the game board.
“So… what should we do?” The question came from one of the men seated slightly apart from the perimeter, a nervous fellow who seemed one bit of bad news from bolting out the door.
“That is up to the group to decide. I’ve pointed out the potential pitfalls and gains from asking our old members to join us. What we do from here impacts us all, so we should each have a say in the choice. I say we hold a ten-minute discussion on the matter, followed by a vote. We’ll raise our hands for or against letting the old members back in, and whatever the group decides is what we shall do. It’s the fairest method possible since we all share in the risk equally, don’t you think?” Even though she’d phrased the last bit as a question, it was clear that Kennedy didn’t expect anyone to disagree.
Will had come in with a hunch that this wouldn’t be too easy, and it had turned out to be right. Kennedy was forcing everyone to pick a side, to publicly commit to whichever option they thought would serve the group best. Whatever they picked, Kennedy would remember who had been on each side. If they chose an option that helped the group, then she’d likely consider those who voted for it as loyal, whereas if they picked a choice that hurt them then she would lean toward those who’d voted against it. All in all, it was a solid way to narrow down her list of suspects for the traitor, but it had one fatal flaw. No matter what the group chose, their troubles were going to get worse. There was no right option in the first place.
For the most part, Will kept his silence during the ten-minute talk, only chiming in with small, inconsequential details that painted him as needing to be right more than concerned with the group’s well-being. He took careful stock of everyone’s positions, and when the time for voting came, Will made sure to put himself on the losing side. Ideally, when more trouble came it would make Kennedy think he was trustworthy, but at the very least it should make him seem less suspicious than other members. That was all he had to do, fly under the radar long enough until the job was done. For a gu
y who’d always seemed aggressively mundane in a world of extraordinary individuals, it was the best job he could have asked for.
“And it looks like…” Kennedy finished counting the last of the raised hands. “It looks like we have a consensus. Tad, tell the others you talked to the message was some sort of mix-up, or come up with a more believable lie. Whatever you do, don’t give them the full story. By group decision, it seems we’re going to press on without them. From here on, the only people we can trust are the other members of this circle.”
Will didn’t so much as smirk, although it took a touch more effort that he would have admitted.
204.
Dean Blaine considered the crowd of Heroes milling about in the viewing room with a mixed attitude. On one hand, he understood why this trial was among the most frequented. The other tests allowed students to demonstrate many sides of their abilities, but this one was something special. This and the trial where the students first fought human-like Sims were considered by some to be the only two truly essential viewing experiences for potential mentors. There was an argument to be made there, without question, but Dean Blaine still felt like many of the Heroes showed up to this test for the wrong reasons. Yes, they were going to learn a lot about what each student could do and how they held up when truly pushed, but he knew that some were only here simply because this trial was always, without fail, one hell of a show.
At least there were a few familiar faces among the crowd. Titan was around as usual, alongside Gale and a muscular man in a costume made of shifter material, probably Granite. There was also a strikingly handsome fellow in a rather mundane outfit who Dean Blaine didn’t recognize, though from the way he was chatting with the other three from Brewster, they were clearly friends. Dean Blaine recognized some Lander graduates as well, even a few who might not have needed to be there. Victor was talking to a small group of younger Heroes about the glory days, which had probably taken no more than minimal encouragement from his listeners. As a retired Hero, Victor wasn’t technically eligible to be here from an intern-recruiting perspective, but the SAA and the HCP had a friendly relationship, so they permitted a few scouting viewings every year. While not every student would make the final cut, all of them were impressive to have gotten this far, and Victor would want to be ready and waiting with a generous contract once people dropped out.
Personally, Dean Blaine wasn’t sure how many recruits Victor would have after this trial. There were a few he worried about more than others, although if they were going to break he would have expected to see it happen sooner. More than anything, he wasn’t sure how this year would play out because it wouldn’t be the same experience for this class. Normally by this point the students had only experienced the training that the HCP provided: dangerous and challenging, yet carefully controlled. This group had seen the real fight already, maybe not up close and personal in all cases, but they’d gotten a taste. A few might still leave when the day was done, but Dean Blaine suspected this group could buck the trend. They knew what they’d come back for after last May, and this was just one more aspect of it.
Leaving the crowd to mingle, Dean Blaine made his way down to the gym. Normally he liked to be waiting as the students arrived, however more Heroes meant more logistics to sort out which meant more running around for the dean. If he did leave the position and take Graham up on his offer, he’d deeply repent for the burden he was putting on poor Professor Baker. Sure, the dean gig always seemed like a great job, right up until one had to start dealing with all the tasks that came with the position. And there were so many more than anyone could be properly prepared for. Professor Baker was smart, though, and better organized than Dean Blaine, so he had no doubt she’d figure it out just like all her predecessors.
Assuming he left, anyway. Dean Blaine tried to keep it an uncertainty in his mind, even though he was thinking about it more and more as a forgone conclusion. He finally reached the gym doors and pushed the whole idea from his head; there was no time to dwell on the future when the present had demands of its own. Walking in the gym, Dean Blaine made his way across the floor to where the students had formed their usual half-circle around the professors, all of them waiting for him to start things off. No one else had explained the trial to the students, because no one else was expected to shoulder that burden. Moments like these were the cost of leadership.
“Last semester you endured what many of you probably considered to be the most difficult of all these tests,” Dean Blaine opened, taking his spot in the middle of the teachers. “When we told you to prioritize neutralizing criminal Sims even if it meant losing civilian lives, many of you balked. Good. That’s not supposed to be an easy task, to ignore your humanity as you watch innocent people die. But it is, regrettably, an occasional necessity: lose some to save more. I hate that it’s true, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have the power to save everyone. No Hero does. No Hero ever has. We do our best to save the most. The DVA’s damage evaluation scale is based around that very principle. Does anyone have any part of that scale they need clarified before today’s trial begins?”
Several of the students looked tense, yet none raised a hand or made a peep. They knew what the scale meant. Dean Blaine had been sure to cover it at length in class – partly because it was essential to the job, and partly as preparation for this day.
“What you saw in that trial was a bad scenario, a situation where things had gotten out of control and an entire town was in danger. Today, you don’t face a bad scenario. You face the worst scenario. The situation every Hero prays to never see again. Students of Lander, an Armageddon-level Super has surfaced in the course below. The culprit is surrounded by fellow criminals as well as the civilians of the city. The Armageddon-power involves nuclear chain reactions, and if the Super has ten uninterrupted minutes, they will start a reaction that will wipe out the entire world. What’s worse, we have no information on the target’s location beyond the city. All support has been cut off, including intel. The only people you’ll have to talk to are one another. No other aid will be coming. The DVA has deemed this an emergency of the highest magnitude. No priority is put on civilian lives, and no limits on force have been put in place. You may destroy whatever is needed, kill anyone who gets in your way, and ignore every cry for help if it means catching our Armageddon-Sim. This is a pass or fail test. Either you kill the Sim, or you give them ten minutes and the world ends. Life is precious, and I know you’re all keenly aware of that. However, if this Sim succeeds, every person in every city across the entire world is dead. Keep that thought in your minds when you’re tempted to show mercy or lend aid. I’m not ordering you to kill indiscriminately; I’m just conveying the importance of speed. Win or lose, as a team. Any questions?”
Dean Blaine was expecting more silence, so he was surprised to see Violet slowly raise her hand. “Yes, Ms. Sullivan?”
“I was just wondering how classes usually do in this test, if I’m allowed to ask.” Violet’s voice was steady, even as her hand shook with the barest of tremors. There was nothing wrong with having nerves about the task ahead; he’d have been more concerned if she didn’t.
“Historically, more classes fail this than pass it,” Dean Blaine replied. “That’s not surprising, since the task is designed to be as difficult as possible. Plus, even in a simulation, pushing down one’s most instinctual morality is extremely difficult, and knowing that speed is more important than lives lost is different than being able to act upon it. Don’t take that as leeway to slack off, however. More Heroes have come for this trial than any of those before, and they’ll be watching each of you closely. How you deal with this test tells them a lot, and pass or fail, you will be evaluated for the choices you make in there. Anyone else?”
This time, the hands stayed down. Dean Blaine motioned for them to head downstairs then nodded at the professors to get everything in order. It was time to throw this year’s crop of seniors face-first into the fire.
205
.
In defiance of the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Vince forced himself to stay calm. Tempting as it was to go tearing off through the fake city, scouring every inch of it for his target, that sort of action would only feel good. It wouldn’t be the best use of his time. He had to work smart, and the first step was to take stock of his surroundings and tools.
The randomized drop-off system had put him in an unfamiliar alleyway, although whether that meant this was a new course or he was simply in a new part of an old one remained to be seen. All he had was a communicator in his ear to coordinate with the others, a sturdy-looking digital-watch, and a rough idea of what the target could do. While they’d been given time to grab some of their weapons and equipment before entering the battlefield, Vince made do with the standard materials since he didn’t use any special tools or tech. He had only those meager resources and an entire city to search within ten minutes. The whole thing had a very “needle in a haystack” vibe to it, but Vince couldn’t see how it would be any easier if they were taking on the task in real life.
A slight scuff of feet came from behind Vince, who whirled around to find that someone else had jogged up to his location. “Chad?”
“I am indeed. Glad to see you, Vince.” Chad stepped out of the shadows, appearing as calm as always despite the high stakes situation they were in. “I’m surprised you’re still here. Action tends to be your first recourse.”