Citadel (Book 1): Training in Necessity

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Citadel (Book 1): Training in Necessity Page 22

by Clevenger, J.

"That's time travel?" the girl interrupted.

  "Well, he left the murder weapon behind, complete with fingerprints. At the time, it just went down as a random Empowered event, but..." He gave her a serious look. "The full details on this are classified, but I think this much is safe to tell you. Those same fingerprints were later found to belong to an individual born in nineteen fifty seven. He's under observation but has yet to demonstrate any abilities. We think that the killer was a version of him from a timeline that no longer exists."

  "Whoa." she said. "That's pretty awesome."

  He shrugged. "I like the more common examples better."

  "What-" she started, but he cut her off.

  "Healers. The vast majority of them manipulate time. They aren't genuinely healing your bodies so much as... resetting them, I suppose."

  "So why do we remember the injury then?" she asked.

  He gave a shrug. "That's one of the many things we don't understand about Empowered. Add it to the list, along with why most of them can't reattach missing limbs or 'heal' the dead. There's no reason the same process shouldn't work there." He paused a moment, deciding whether he should elaborate.

  "Powers... well, they can be pretty strange." He let the laughter die down before going on. "Pretty much anything you say about them comes with an asterisk, but there's a few general rules. Healers can't do much for an injury after it's been there for an hour or so. No defense, or offense, is invincible. There's always something that can shut it down."

  "Even yours? You're the strongest guy in the Citadel, everyone knows that." Another girl, this one with red hair and a boy's haircut. Her light wasn't as bright as the black man's, but it was enough to let him know she was near the top of the scale.

  "Even me." he said, giving her a serious nod. "Let's just say... my reputation is exaggerated. Who're the strongest ones in your class? Just flat out strength, I mean."

  The class split, some looking to the redhead and others to the- to the big guy.

  Billy gave him a nod, "What do you do?"

  He stirred before answering, "Forcefield. It protects me and enhances my strength." Billy had to make an effort not to think of his tone as uppity.

  "And you?" he asked the girl.

  "I turn into a dragon." Her grin was downright predatory.

  "Nice." He gave an appreciative whistle. "Now, care to guess what I do?" He fought to keep his grin from turning into a smirk.

  She looked a little puzzled. "You're just a flying Strong type, aren't you? I mean, the strongest... but-"

  "Nope. Technically, I'm a Parker type."

  She looked more than just a little puzzled now.

  "That means I have a bunch of different powers that add up to make me way more effective than I should be. Pretty much a living version of 'the whole is more than the sum of its parts.'" Billy said. "I've got strength, toughness, flight, regeneration and a touch of Null and Perception type abilities."

  "Wow." she said softly. He could see similar reactions throughout the crowd.

  "What that means is that I can use the flight to brace myself and hit harder. Between the toughness and nullification, I'm damned hard to hurt. The regeneration is actually my most intense power. Even if something gets through the rest, I can recover fast enough to get back in the fight." He didn't like bragging, but the kids needed to know what the top of the ladder looked like. "But there's still a few folks that could swat me the same as anyone. I can't fly in British skies and if I tried to shake Winter's hand I'd end up as dead as anyone else."

  "Regeneration. That means... you really are old enough, you fought in the First War?" The first girl again. What was it about her? The way her light, her power, was pulsing... it seemed so familiar...

  He nodded. "That's right. Most Strong types, especially men, trigger through frustration. Trying to lift something too heavy, run a little too far, stuff like that. The army gets a lot of its special forces from recruits who pop in boot camp. Me..." he forced a grin, despite the memory, "I triggered through sheer terror, huddled in a trench we'd dug in the French countryside."

  "So, did you fight the Tyrant, when he took over?"

  "No. He didn't pop up until twenty one, after we'd all gone home. Besides, he's more than strong enough to get through my null and the rest of it doesn't do me any good against mind control."

  "Has that ever happened?" she asked. If it wasn't something silly, it was a question that brought up bad memories. That girl was really starting to get on his nerves, strange light and all.

  "Just once." he answered, as curtly as he could manage without being rude.

  "How did they stop you? Him? I..." she trailed off as he looked at her. Maybe he should be trying harder to keep the irritation out of his gaze.

  "Like I said, my reputation is a tad exaggerated. As far as a straight fight goes, there's at least one operative stronger and one who's..." he couldn't help the grin, "one who's exactly the same." He could see the question coming so he hurried on. "My brother has the exact same powers and abilities as me. The other, well, details on him actually are a secret. Sorry."

  He checked his watch. Communicator, he meant. Billy couldn't get used to how quick some things changed.

  "Just one more, I think." He was hoping someone else would be quicker but it was that irritating little-

  "What was your worst fight? If it wasn't the mind control thing, that is."

  And just like that, he knew who that strange power reminded him of. It wasn't the same but it was too close for comfort.

  "Monster." he whispered.

  * * *

  Private Residence

  "Hector, are you home?" Isaac called as he entered, holding the door for Jason. "There's something I need to run by you."

  "Sure," Hector answered, "what's up?" He stood up from his seat, leaving another him behind to continue his training exercise.

  Isaac gave Jason a friendly nod, then entered the kitchen. He heard the boy's footsteps on the stairs behind him. He stopped cold when he saw what Hector had been doing, losing control of his forcefield for the first time that day.

  "What?" Hector asked.

  "You're working a puzzle."

  "Yeah? What's wrong with that?"

  Isaac needed a moment before answering. It didn't seem like it needed to be said, but...

  "You're blindfolded."

  "I am." Hector sounded like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

  "You're doing a three hundred piece puzzle, blindfolded, while another you watches."

  Hector's overly controlled expression collapsed into a grin, "Heh. Bruce came up with it. He wanted me to get better at integrating sense information from multiple bodies."

  "That's... I'm not sure, either very weird or very cool." Isaac said.

  Hector just smiled. "So what'd you want to ask me?"

  "Um... would you mind if we went into the other room? This needs to be private and..." he trailed off, unable to explain why extra versions of Hector being around made him feel like he was being eavesdropped on.

  Hector gave a shrug and led him through the kitchen and into one of his bedrooms.

  Isaac took a moment to look around. It was the first time he'd seen it. Assuming the room had been furnished, the same as the rest of them, Hector had made some changes. There were two long folding picnic tables along opposite walls, covered with computers and reference books. A third wall held a couple of bookshelves, loaded with more books. It looked like a mixture of more reference works and old sci-fi stuff.

  He said the only thing he could. "Wow."

  "Thanks." Hector grinned.

  It wasn't what he'd meant to ask, but he had to know. "How do you afford all this? And what could you possibly be doing with it all?"

  Hector slid a folding chair out for Isaac and took a seat in another. "I used to be a bit more spread out, but... that had a few issues. I've spent the last few weeks consolidating."

  Isaac raised an eyebrow.

  "Well, I think I've mentioned
that I've been taking a few college courses."

  Isaac nodded. "And some skill training here at the Hub."

  "Right. Well, I used to pay for everything by working at restaurants. Usually as a cook or bartender. I basically got fired from one of those jobs and it got me thinking. I knew there had to be a better fit for what I could do." He gave a sheepish grin. "I'm just a little embarrassed that it took me so long."

  Isaac thought over the possibilities. Hector had a weird blend of multitasking and focus down to an art. With that he could learn most any basic job pretty quickly, but he'd need something that let him add or drop hours at will... maybe a call center or...

  "Let me guess, you opened your own temp agency?"

  Hector's grin was rueful this time. "No, but that would have been a good one. Data entry."

  "Really." Isaac felt a little disappointed. "That seems... kind of pedestrian? Maybe you undershot by a bit?"

  "It's perfect! I do everything online, so there's no issue with Empowered discrimination, and they pay by performance not the hour. That means that if my savings start to drop down, I can just make a few more of me and work in shifts. Besides, at this point I really just need it to cover my mom's care and the taxes on her place."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, home and here are my only full time residences. I just use the Gate Room to commute to all my other spots."

  "Other spots?"

  "Bruce has got me... I guess interning is the best way to put it. At least one of me is always present at most of the major Citadel offices in the country now."

  "What's he got you doing?"

  "Mostly just learning the system and meeting people at this point. He wants me to go through training for the Analysis section after Operative training is done."

  Isaac thought about it for a moment. "Because of your ability to integrate information? Makes sense. Be a shame to lose you though. I heard your fight against Coach Achalla was pretty impressive."

  "Why do you think I'd have to quit the field side?" Hector asked.

  "Oh... woops." Isaac shook his head. "I know I should be used to that by now, especially given what we've been talking about, but sometimes... it's just the scale, you know? How do you keep it all straight?"

  Hector gave a shrug. "I know information overload is the biggest problem for most duplicators, but it's easy for me to manage. During my registration exam, the testers thought it was because the extras I make are real. Most of the others are just, sort of like mannequins. They end up having to run half a dozen bodies with one brain but I can keep a one to one ratio."

  "Makes sense, I guess. As much as anything dealing with powers does. Just how much are you doing right now?"

  Hector took a moment to think it over. "Not a lot right now. Mostly just studying. I'm enrolled in almost every introductory level course UCLA offers."

  "Almost?" Isaac interrupted.

  "Feh. I've got no use for the liberal arts classes. I just want the practical ones."

  Isaac didn't say anything, but it made sense to him. He'd never cared for them either.

  "I've got a couple martial arts classes later tonight. Bruce had my earlier requests delayed because he wanted to help me pick some specific ones. He was afraid that conflicting reflex responses might trip me up. There's still a dozen or so of me out at the Sparring Field, helping some of the other trainees practice with their powers."

  "That's not much?"

  "Oh! And I'm learning to..." Hector mumbled something. It almost sounded like 'dodge bullets.'

  "Anything else?"

  "Well," his voice lowered, "just my mom. There's always at least one of me with her. She's... she's been getting worse lately. I'm... I don't know what to do."

  Isaac felt a mild burning in his forehead. "All the resources the Citadel has, the Healers and the Richards types, and they can't help her?"

  Hector slowly sank into his chair, "It's not that simple. It never is with weird Empowered like Chemo. Conventional medicine is pretty much useless and Healers are no good for anything chronic. I've... well, I've spent a lot time looking into this. There've only ever been three Healers that could directly affect diseases, much less that living chemical crap Chemo made."

  Isaac's heart went out to him. "What about Mary Vector? I don't know if she counts as a Healer, but it sounded like her power could've helped."

  Hector gave a disgusted snort. "She's the third. That's why she went with Vector, instead of something like Flux. But she's considered a potential Class Two threat, the Citadel's not about to give me any help bringing her out of 'retirement.'" He shook his head and Isaac could see tears in his eyes.

  "The worst part is, I managed to track down her original name, Reed, but I can't trace her after she entered operative training."

  Isaac's jaw dropped. "Hector... I..." He took a breath. "You know how Empowered parents tend to have children with similar abilities? Jason... Jason's got some kind of regeneration, right?"

  "Yeah...?" Hector drew out the word, obviously unsure where Isaac was going.

  "Hector, his last name was Reed. Do you think-?"

  He didn't bother finishing the sentence. Hector had already rushed out of the room. Isaac could hear a crashing sound from the kitchen, followed by a pounding on the stairway.

  "Well, I guess I'll have to talk to the Director without his advice." Isaac mused to himself. He couldn't find it in his heart to regret that.

  * * *

  Citadel Office

  "Show him in." Melody told her assistant, not bothering to look up. She could be anywhere in the city in under a minute. Five minutes and Gatekeeper's help could put her anywhere in the country. Despite that, Melody always wound up in the same spot, sitting at her desk and staring at a stack of papers.

  "Thank you for seeing me, Director." the large black man said.

  "I'd say it was my pleasure, but I'm not fond of empty courtesies. Why did you request this meeting, Trainee Isaac?"

  He took a seat and frowned. It looked more like concentration than irritation. Good, whatever had brought him here was probably something important then.

  "It's about one of my classmates... I don't really know how else to put this, but I don't think he should be in the program."

  Again? This was the third student to complain about the Grim boy. She'd have liked to brush off their complaints, but she already had more than enough reason to tread lightly with him.

  "Explain."

  "Well, there's a couple of reasons ma'am. His personality is confrontational and disruptive. The team exercise we had today was a fiasco, just because he was present. I can't imagine he'd do any better in the field."

  Well, this seemed like a more coherent complaint than the Insight girl's.

  "His power... don't get me wrong, he's strong. In some ways, he might be one of the strongest in our class. But that only makes it worse. He's strong enough that he doesn't feel like he needs anyone's help and he doesn't take anyone as a serious threat. Duncan-"

  "Wait, this is about the Nightmare?" she interrupted.

  "Duncan Nightmare, yes ma'am." he seemed taken aback.

  Well, that put a very different spin on things. Back on more comfortable ground, she made a beckoning gesture. "Go on."

  "His power set includes a fear aura, not strong at first but it builds up with time, and he's either unable or unwilling to exclude anyone in his range when it's on. Earlier, well he basically started a riot. Most of the civilians, the stand-ins I mean, most of the ones we lost were trampled to death trying to get away from him. It also interfered with the rest of us. I wouldn't have been able to keep my field up if it wasn't for Instructor Bruce's training."

  She considered what he'd said before answering.

  "Is there anything else?"

  "Well, this isn't directly related to Duncan, but I think it might tie in. Our class started out with sixty four recruits. Now we're down to just over forty. I can't believe that that kind of waste is acceptable to you. A lot
of them quit, not because they weren't strong enough, but because they were pushed too hard and too fast. There must be something more effective than this sink or swim approach the Citadel uses, even a few weeks to acclimate might make a difference."

  She sighed. The man had a good point, based on what he knew. Better yet, he seemed to be motivated by the good of the Citadel rather than simple distaste.

  "Isaac, before I say anything else, I want to let you know that we value initiative. There're very few traits more important in an operative."

  She waited for his nod before going on.

  "But I'm afraid I can't give you a good explanation. The selection criteria for your class, and certain aspects of its training curriculum, are... unusual. I can't explain why that had to be the case. However, I will tell you that the majority of training classes have far lower dropout rates."

  He grimaced but let her continue.

  "Additionally, the majority of those who drop their training either return at a later date or find another way to be useful to society. There's not a city in the country that doesn't have a former trainee in its fire department, police station or something similar. Helping the ones who won't fit find a better path is standard practice." she said.

  "That's not exactly satisfying, Director."

  "No, I don't imagine it is. Please remember, you're a trainee. We extend a great deal of trust to our future operatives but there is information that you cannot be allowed to have. Things that... well, things that would go poorly for everyone if more people were aware."

  He sighed. "Fine. I can't say I'm happy about this, but you heard me out. That's something, I suppose." The large man stood up, preparing to leave.

  "One thing more, Isaac. Your classmates, how do they react to Duncan's behavior outside of training?"

  "Most of them can't stand him. As far as I know, there's not more than a handful of us that he hasn't antagonized at some point."

  She gave a slight smile. "I would suggest you pay a bit more attention to the details of their reactions, Isaac. You have a bright future with the Citadel and I'd hate to think you started out with a poor opinion of our competence."

 

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