by Hayes, Drew
“Both of you, please come in and have a seat. We have so much to talk about.”
221.
Terrifying and exhilarating as that test had been, Vince found that his stomach wasn’t settling just because it had ended. The reason was easy to guess: he still had important work left to do. While pretty much everyone else seemed to be at least zoning in on a mentor and a name, Vince was floundering. He’d gotten offers, thankfully, although none of the Heroes had really stood out to him in terms of what kind of education they’d offer. If push came to shove he could just pick one, but an internship felt too important for that selection method. His goal today was to meet as many of the new visiting Heroes as possible and see if any of them felt like a fit for his potential mentor. Even if it wasn’t one who’d made him an offer, he could still try to win them over. Vince was not a man who shied away from working for the things he wanted.
At least there were plenty of options; the mixer was packed with costumes and masks. Dean Blaine hadn’t been kidding – this trial really did produce a huge turnout. This was the best shot Vince would get to meet a mentor, so he was determined to make every moment count. From the second he stepped through the door, he was greeted by masked faces congratulating him. As the one who’d dealt the final blow, it wasn’t shocking that he’d receive a fair bit of the praise, but he was by no means the only one.
Shane was absolutely mobbed by people. Vince wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, but from what he’d pieced together in the brief time they had while they changed, Shane had effectively guarded Will while managing to slaughter every Sim that even stepped close to him. Truth be told, Will might have appreciated a little more of that backup now as he was swarmed by Heroes trying to shake his hand or compliment him. Despite not throwing a single punch, Will was unquestionably the MVP of this fight, and he’d damn sure earned it. Violet, Roy, Thomas, Chad, and Alice were all getting big crowds too, and even the students who hadn’t necessarily been in the spotlight were shaking a lot of hands. It was a group win, and everyone that watched it was in high spirits as they celebrated the accomplishment.
If he’d had the time, Vince would have liked to tell a few of his friends how well they did too, but he was busy chatting with everyone who approached, fighting hard to remember their names and keep smiling politely even as he began to feel overwhelmed. Thankfully, a huge Hero that Vince didn’t have to fake a smile for soon approached and handed him a bottle of water.
“You just had a big fight and you’ve been talking non-stop; you need to hydrate,” Titan said. It was a relief to pause and greet Roy and Hershel’s father, even though Vince knew he should be schmoozing every minute. But years of constant training had taught him a few lessons, one of which was that it was okay to take an occasional break for recovery. At this point, he certainly needed it.
“Thanks.” Vince cracked opened the bottle and drained half of it in a single chug. “How did we look on screen?”
“Good. Strong. Coordinated and determined. Will made things worlds easier than most classes had it, but without everyone executing his orders, victory would have slipped through your grasp. You all are improving fast; I barely recognized any of you from the summer.”
With one more gulp, Vince finished his water and tossed the container into the nearest trash can. “Hopefully that stays true. Maybe next time we won’t cut it quite so close.”
Titan opened his mouth, no doubt to say something reassuring, but before he could speak a much less physically imposing man in a costume covered in pockets appeared from behind him, tossing Vince another bottle of water without waiting to see if he would catch it. “You didn’t really cut it all that close, not the first time. If you’d taken out the Sim in the museum then I’d say you might have set a new record for time.”
Vince didn’t blush only because he’d had similar thoughts since first finding out that they’d screwed up. Interestingly, despite all the gabbing he’d been doing, this was the first Hero to bring up the fact that he and Chad let a much easier victory slip through their fingers. “Yeah, we botched that part pretty bad. Thankfully the rest of the team was good enough to get us a second shot.”
The stranger cocked his head a few inches to the side. “Interesting. Most students in this situation would have come up with an excuse for that mistake.”
“You should do your research more thoroughly; Vince is a good kid who knows when he needs to improve on something. And for the record, I don’t consider showing mercy as a failing; you just need to account for the threat having allies.” Titan patted the stranger on the back, inadvertently pushing him slightly forward. “Vince, let me introduce Jeremiah. Please, excuse his lack of diplomacy; he does it full time at work so he barely uses the stuff in his personal life. Jeremiah, this is Vince Reynolds, a fine young man and a friend of my sons.”
“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Vince shook Jeremiah’s hand even as the Hero waved off his formality.
“No sirs or titles or anything like that – never suited me to use, so I can’t very well expect them from other people. And it’s nice to meet you too, Vince. That’s quite a power you’ve got, you know. Might be one of the most versatile I’ve seen in years. I assume you’re going the Close Combat route?”
“It seemed a natural fit,” Vince confirmed. “And so far I’ve been doing well at it.”
Titan snorted. “Don’t be so humble, this isn’t the place for it. You’re here to impress, remember? Vince was selected as one of Lander’s Intramural representatives, that’s how well he’s doing at his major.”
Taking a step back, Jeremiah looked Vince up and down theatrically, like he was evaluating a horse he might place a bet on. “An Intramural contender, a multiple-energy absorber, and a talented hand-to-hand fighter. That’s quite a package. What lucky Hero scooped you up as their intern?”
“Oh, no one yet. I’ve got some offers, but I’m trying to learn as much as I can to find a good fit.” Vince’s reply came quickly, almost as a reflex, unsurprising since he’d said the same thing to nearly every Hero who’d talked with him so far. It was a response Nick had coached him on, a polite way of saying he was in demand but could still be won over by someone with the right things to teach.
“Perfect,” Jeremiah replied. “Because you know, when I watched you fight out there, I actually thought you would be an ideal candidate for something I want to try.”
He leaned in conspiratorially, an effect that was somewhat diminished by Titan’s shadow looming over both of them, and motioned for Vince to do the same. “Tell me something, Vince: what do you think about interning under a Subtlety Hero?”
222.
“Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? I don’t think we have any sodas, but Joan can zip over to the nearest town and be back in a few minutes.” Globe was more pleasant than Sherman had imagined he would be. Years of working with Crispin and his mercenaries had conditioned Sherman to expect that power leant itself to an aloof and prideful attitude. Yet despite his fearsome reputation and mysterious ability, Globe seemed downright cheerful. Crispin took a seat on the opposite couch. Sherman chose to stand, however. If Globe was the only one sitting, the couches were clearly intended for leadership.
“I’m sorry, Joan? Is that the name of your mysterious aide?” Crispin nodded to Scarf, who began to unwind her signature facial covering as soon as he pointed it out. She looked rather mundane, purposefully so, like she styled herself specifically to blend in as much as possible.
Globe didn’t seem irked by the comment; he went ahead and poured himself a mug of coffee, adding a few sugars. “Yes, that’s Joan. I’ll have to ask you to forgive the masking and theatrics, but men in our position can hardly be blamed for exercising prudence. Keeping my allies’ names unknown protects them, as well as me. But now that you’re here, I don’t think we need such measures anymore. It would be disrespectful of the goodwill you’ve shown with your attendance.”
“I’m glad you recognize the importance of this m
eeting, and how much I’ve risked by attending. But you are a man of means, Globe – a man who can’t seem to be caught, even as he traipses about cracking open jail cells and then vanishing without a trace. I could use those means, since my own situation has become a touch… confining. Sherman, tea.”
Instantly Sherman complied, pouring his employer a cup of tea and lemon just the way he liked it. Globe and Joan both watched the process quietly, neither pointing out that the tea and cups were closer to Crispin. Perhaps they read it as a power play to show Crispin’s control over his people, but whatever its intention, it didn’t bother Sherman. He liked being depended on, especially by a man as important as Crispin.
“So you want to move about freely again, no doubt to restart your organization, or maybe to build a new one using the lessons you’ve learned. But what then, Crispin? How does one top the first successful attack on an HCP campus?” Globe asked.
“Oh, I have some ideas. With enough force and the ability to augment a Super with brainwashing abilities, it might be possible to co-opt an entire senior class. Imagine that: ten fully-trained, Hero-grade Supers suddenly turning against their own school. After pulling one off, I’ve also got some ideas for a more successful campus attack. And then there are the rumors – unsubstantiated so far – regarding Powereds and… well, let’s just say that one has the potential to change everything if managed properly. You’ll forgive me if I’m light on the details. This is a new friendship.”
“Those are some interesting ideas; I especially find the brainwashing one fascinating.” Globe’s eyes briefly darted to Sherman before he continued. “But there is one thing I have to correct you on: this is not a friendship, Crispin. Not at all.”
Sherman looked to Crispin, waiting for some kind of signal that it was time to go, but none came. Instead, his employer nodded in agreement. “You’re quite right, Globe: this is business and nothing more. I’m glad you’re not one of those sentimental types who has to dress up what we do with familiarity.”
From the rear of the room, Joan coughed softly. It was a small gesture, yet Sherman took note of it all the same. Something had shifted – the room felt off, even if he couldn’t pin the circumstances just yet.
“I couldn’t agree with you more. What’s happening here is business, pure and simple. A balancing of accounts, if you will.” Globe set his empty coffee mug down, his smile dimming slightly.
This time, Crispin gave the signal. Whatever vibe had shifted, he felt it too. It was time to get out of here. Sherman focused his will and pushed them through space… except that it didn’t work. They were in the barn, across from Globe and Joan. Sherman tried again, and again, to no avail. Were they blocking him? But how? With Crispin’s enhancement there shouldn’t be a teleporter in the world who could anchor him, and neither Globe nor Joan was a neutralizer. Was there a third Super somewhere unseen?
“Sir, we seem to be stuck.”
“Yes, I’m afraid I can’t have you leaving before our meeting is done. There’s so much to get through, and I really do need you present the whole while.” Globe rose from the couch, stepping around the coffee table. Sherman tried to get between him and Crispin but found his body unwilling to move. He was rooted in place, which meant Crispin almost certainly was too. “I’m not sure if you’re a religious man. I was never much of one myself, but my mother insisted we attend church enough that I have a basic understanding of how it works. On the off chance you are, I would encourage you to think of this as a confession, a moment to cleanse your soul in the eyes of God.”
Circling the couch, Globe now stood directly behind Crispin. His left hand extended, fingers touching the top of Crispin’s skull. “You know, people have called my ability a ‘God Field’, but that’s an overstatement. I’m not a god. I’m still limited by my own perceptions and understanding. If I don’t know how to do a thing, then I can’t cause it. And free will is an element I’ve never been able to overcome, not that I’ve tried much. So I can’t force you to say anything, Crispin. But I can tell when you lie, and I can punish you for it. Let’s start with something simple. That brain-washing idea: that wasn’t theoretical, was it?”
“Are you going to torture me now? I expected more than this from a former Hero. First you deceive us into coming and then you threaten me with pain unless I answer your questions.”
“Ah yes, because we are clearly the first people in history to use falsehoods as part of a sting operation. Besides, I don’t think I’ve told you a single lie in the brief time we’ve talked. Now Joan, on the other hand, is an expert on tactical deception. Joan, did you lie to get these men here?”
“I did,” Joan replied, no hesitation in her voice.
“Well then, maybe Crispin is right. You’ll have to be punished for that. No dessert at dinner tonight, and I’m making key lime pie, so it’s a good one.” Globe winked at her, and Sherman felt his heart sink a little deeper. “As for your accusation of torture, I’d never stoop so low as to threaten another person’s well-being like that. In fact, I’m not going to hurt you in any way if you resist. You, on the other hand, might not be so gentle with yourself.”
“What does that even mean?” Crispin demanded.
“It means I’m not going to do anything more than replay some of your memories. The worst ones, the bits buried deep inside. I’m going to show you your demons, Crispin. Because you’re not wrong about us being similar in more ways than I’d like. And there is one thing I can say with absolute certainty regarding men like us.”
Globe leaned down, close to Crispin’s ear, and all but hissed out the next words. “We have a lot of demons.”
223.
“I guess the honest answer is that I haven’t. Thought about it, I mean.” Vince glanced to Titan, waiting for reassurance that this was some sort of joke they were about to let him in on, but the huge Hero simply returned his gaze with a confused look of his own. Whatever Jeremiah was up to, he apparently hadn’t brought Titan in on it.
Jeremiah nodded, clearly unsurprised. “And who could blame you? After all, what strapping, ass-kicking, name-taking fighter like you would want to learn from one of us shifty types? The assumption is that you should go learn under a Hero who can teach you to punch that little bit harder, strike just a tad faster, and so on. It’s the default, the way things tend to work, and I certainly don’t begrudge you for thinking along those lines. I’m just pitching something a little different, if you’re interested enough to hear me out.”
“Of course I’d be willing to–”
“Hang on.” Jeremiah held up a finger to silence Vince before he could finish. “When I say hear me out, I mean that seriously. I know you’re in mingle-mode, so you’re being as polite as possible, plus I’m a friend of someone you respect. But this isn’t a ‘listen for the sake of it’ kind of situation. If you’re not interested, then that is completely fine. No offense, no hard feelings, none of the droll crap. Take a moment to consider if this is a proposal you really want to listen to, then tell me to keep going or fuck off.”
It was a strange reply to Vince’s acceptance, but Jeremiah was rapidly revealing himself to be an unusual man. Still, he was a Hero, and one who hung out with the likes of Titan, which meant Vince had to assume the man knew what he was doing. So… Would Vince ever learn under a Subtlety Hero? It was hard to imagine what he’d get from it. No one had to tell Vince he lacked the talent for the sorts of things Alice and Nick could do. Even being subtle in quotidian manners was a trial for him; trying to do it at a professional level was a joke. He would be throwing away his internship, wasting years attempting to learn skills that would always be out of his depth. What upside was there?
Just as he was about to decline, a memory flashed in Vince’s mind, one from the beginning of sophomore year. Nick’s scavenger hunt, specifically. Before they’d even known what Subtlety classes really were, Nick had put together a lesson to teach them about thinking tactically instead of pushing ahead with brute force. Because of that, and
a dozen other bits of advice and teachings through the year, they’d ended up a much stronger team. In fact, when he really looked back on it, Vince realized that he already had been trained by someone skilled in Subtlety. True, Nick never got Vince closer to being good at lies or trickery; nevertheless, he had managed to make Vince think with strategy and expand his understanding of possibility. Nick sharpened Vince’s mind when most of his formal instructors tended to drill him on speed, power, and reflexes.
“I’d say my interest depends on what kind of teacher you wanted to be,” Vince replied at last. “If you wanted to try and teach me to be a Subtlety Hero, or a hybrid Hero with multiple disciplines, then I’d politely decline. On the other hand, if you want to try and teach me to use my head better than I do, then that’s something I’d listen to.”
A fleeting look of surprise darted across Titan’s face, though Jeremiah seemed unfazed by the response. “There we go. I had a feeling you could put it together if I gave you a little shove. You’re an interesting man to watch fight, Vince. You’ve got power in spades, and clearly you haven’t shirked your training, but the way you think is just so linear… you’re predictable. Or at least, that’s what I thought until I saw you bluff the Sims. That was creative, unexpected, and most importantly of all: effective.”
“I, um, I was just sort of trying to think of what one of my friends would do,” Vince admitted.
“Nothing wrong with that. You took the tools of another and made them your own. But while your physical toolbox is huge, I think you’re under-stocked in the mental equivalent.”
Titan loomed a little closer into their conversation. “Jeremiah, you could stand to be less blunt.”
“Why? Do you believe Vince doesn’t know that most of the others are better at strategy than he is, or that they think and process more quickly?” Jeremiah asked. “Let me assure you, he probably knows that better than anyone else. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have bothered hearing me out. It’s like you said: Vince is the type to know when he’s got a weakness. He wants to improve. Pretending a limitation isn’t there doesn’t do him any favors.”