Myth lowered his hand. “There are five advantages to being a licensed Hero.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “One, a Hero is protected from legal liability for property destruction and bodily injury if he acts in a reasonable manner and in pursuit of the public welfare. Two, a Hero has limited police powers. Those include the ability to arrest someone who is in the middle of committing a criminal act, as well as someone who has committed certain serious crimes in the past and has not yet been brought to justice. Three, a Hero who maintains a secret identity can seek compensatory and punitive damages from someone who outs him. Four, a Hero with a secret identity can file taxes, testify in court, and perform other duties and tasks as a citizen under that alias without being forced to reveal his true identity. Five, a Hero is authorized to use deadly force to protect himself or others from serious bodily harm.” I was not surprised Myth was able to rattle all that off. Despite his sometimes goofy sense of humor, I had learned that Myth took his studies seriously.
“Correct,” the Old Man said. “Somebody give that man a cigar. But you’ll have to smoke it in the Arctic Circle with the penguins if you raise your hand in my class again, as that’s where I’ll fly you and leave you. How many times do I have to tell you you don’t have to raise your bloody hand? Just speak up. You don’t have to ask ‘Mother may I?’ every time you want to say something. You’re a Hero trainee, not a kindergartener. Don’t be so damned respectful all the time. Maybe slouch in your chair a little while you’re at it. Being so on point all the time makes you look like you lack confidence. If there’s one thing a Hero has to be, it’s confident.”
Myth grinned. “You’ll have to bring some penguins to the Arctic Circle along with me then. Penguins are only in the Southern Hemisphere. There aren’t any in the Arctic Circle.”
“I tell you to be less respectful, and two seconds later you correct me. Uppity. I’ve created a monster.” The Old Man grinned back at Myth. “Let’s focus for a few moments on the topic of secret identities. You all are masked to conceal your real identities from one another. If you graduate from the Academy, you are permitted to continue to wear a mask for the purpose of continuing your training. You are not allowed to wear a full Hero’s costume, though. Only licensed Heroes are legally permitted to wear full costumes. Can anyone tell me why most Heroes take advantage of their ability to legally wear costumes? Other than to conceal their true identities, I mean. No, not you this time Myth. Give someone else a chance to embarrass themselves. How about you Carolina?” My eyelids slammed open at the sound of my name. Like I said, I had been half-asleep.
“Why do Heroes wear costumes?” I repeated, my mind groping for the answer. It came up empty. “Uh, because they look cool?” The class laughed.
“You’re not entirely wrong,” the Old Man said once the laughter died down. He glanced down admiringly at himself. “I for one am so cool in my costume that I piss ice cubes. Unfortunately, due to my age, I have to get up several times in the middle of the night to piss them too.” The class laughed again. He could joke if he wanted to but I knew that, despite his age, the Old Man was capable of doing things like moving intercontinental ballistic missiles out of their flight paths and redirecting them into space. I saw him do it on television once.
The Old Man spoke again. “But no, looking cool is not the main reason why Heroes wear a costume. Anyone else?”
Silence.
“Because they’re a symbol,” Smoke finally said. She sat on my right.
“Ding-ding-ding,” the Old Man said. “That’s right—they are a symbol. They’re a symbol the same way a cop’s badge is, or a doctor’s white coat is, or a businessman’s expensive dark suit is. A Hero’s costume signifies to the public what you are. But not only that, what you stand for. There’s something about humans’ monkey minds that makes us look for leaders, that makes us want to identify and follow the alpha. A Hero’s costume, especially his cape, marks you as that alpha. The Heroes’ Guild has done studies on it. Almost one hundred percent of the world’s population associates capes with Heroes. Almost one hundred percent! It’s why most of us Heroes who wear costumes also wear capes. You’ll notice all of the instructors here at Camp Avatar do, including myself. When the average person sees a costume and a cape, he is inclined to do what we tell him to do. That is of critical importance to us Heroes in a crisis sometimes. Say, for example, a Hero knows a building is about to collapse. If he warns the occupants of that building about the danger while in civilian clothes, he will almost certainly be ignored. If he makes the same warning while dressed in his costume and cape, though, people will take notice and tend to obey that Hero even though they have no legal obligation to do so. The costume and cape is a symbol of authority. Code names are too. That is why they should be chosen with care. They should be something that engenders trust and respect.” The Old Man smiled slightly. “I’m talking to you, Honey Buzzard.” The guy who had picked that unlikely name flushed. Fortunately for him, the names we had chosen for use at the Academy were not the names we had to keep forever. Thank goodness. I had no intention of going by Carolina for the rest of my life.
“Wait a minute,” I said. I was incredulous. “You’re telling us that the public will tend to do what we tell them just because of a code name, costume, and cape?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” the Old Man said. “I’ll give you an example from another field to show you the power of authority and symbols. A few years back as part of a psychological study, someone called nurses’ stations at various hospital wards. That person told the answering nurses that he was a doctor. He wasn’t. He instructed the nurses to administer a certain drug to patients under their care. Bear in mind that calling in a drug prescription like that was in violation of each hospital’s policy, the drug prescribed by the man on the phone was not authorized for use in the wards, the dose he called for was obviously excessive and dangerous, and the so-called doctor giving the order over the phone had never been seen before by the nurses. He hadn’t even spoken to those nurses on the phone before. Take a guess as to what percentage of the nurses did what the alleged doctor told them to do.”
“Five percent,” I guessed. I had been tempted to say zero, but there’s a small percentage of any group that’s too dumb to even tie its shoes properly. Other trainees in class ventured other guesses. All their guesses were less than ten percent.
“Ninety-five percent,” Smoke said. She said it with quiet confidence.
“Right on the nose,” the Old Man. “I see someone has been doing some extracurricular reading.” If so, I did not know how in the world she found the time. Maybe she did not need sleep. Maybe she just sat in the corner at night and did crunches while boning up on ways to show the rest of us up. “Ninety-five percent of the nurses did as the alleged doctor told them. Why is that? It’s because nurses have been trained to obey doctors, almost without question. The white lab coat, the title doctor, all of that goes into vesting a doctor with authority that most nurses leap to obey. It’s the same with Heroes. Unfortunately, it’s also the same with Rogues. It’s why so many supervillains wear costumes just like Heroes do. It’s much easier to commit crimes when your outfit subconsciously triggers people to do as you tell them instead of fighting back. Remember, your names, costumes, and capes are all symbols of your Heroic authority. If you keep that in mind, your job as Heroes will be made a lot easier.
“Enough of costumes and masks for now,” the Old Man said. “Let’s change topics a bit and go back to what Myth correctly stated earlier, namely that Heroes are not supposed to kill unless it is in self-defense or in the defense of others. Can anyone tell me why?” Silence. “Come now, you’re not tenderfeet any more. By now the answer should be as obvious as the nose on your face.”
“Because killing is illegal?” Sledgehammer said in her soft voice. Her tone indicated she was not sure her answer was correct. Despite her name, she was a mere slip of a girl. Judging from her appearance, she was the youngest of all th
e remaining trainees. Regardless of how she looked, she could punch a hole through a cinder block building like it was made out of cardboard.
The Old Man shook his head at Sledgehammer. “Your answer is correct, but your delivery is all wrong. If you’re going to be a Hero, you’ve got to command respect and obedience. As we just discussed, your costume and cape are part of that. The rest is how you carry yourself and sound. The way you just answered my question, you sounded like you were apologizing for troubling me by speaking. A Hero is a lion, not a field mouse. Try to sound cockier next time.”
“I’ll try,” Sledgehammer said, again with the same soft-spoken voice. She sounded more like the Cowardly Lion than any other kind of lion.
“Try harder. You should be aiming for a tone of amused mastery, not the meek diffidence you’re hitting.” He shook his head again. “Regardless of her delivery, Sledgehammer is right. Heroes do not kill because killing is illegal. Unless, of course, it’s in self-defense or in the defense of others. We Heroes are not above the law. The use of our powers is sanctioned and regulated by the law. As a result, we are an extension of the law and act in support of it. Never forget that. The moment you do forget, the moment you start to think your powers entitle you to act as a one-person judge, jury, and executioner, the whole system breaks down.” The Old Man looked at me as he said that. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. Had he somehow guessed what I had in mind for the Meta who had killed Dad? The Old Man’s gaze shifted away from me. Perhaps him looking at me had been mere coincidence. “People like us are too powerful to do as we please unchecked. The Academy’s motto is ‘Society before self.’ One of the many things that means is that we put the will of society—which is really what laws are, the codified will of society—ahead of our own desires. There may come a time when you are tempted to disobey the law simply because you can or because you think doing so would be for the best. Don’t. When you start putting your own personal judgments ahead of that of society’s, you are putting yourself on a road that leads to ruin—for both yourself and the rest of us. That’s what Rogues do, and we’re not Rogues. We must constantly guard against the temptation to do as we will because we can. Remember, as Lord Acton said, ‘Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.’ We Heroes are some of the most powerful people on the planet. The temptation to let that power corrupt us is always there and we must always be vigilant against it.”
Myth interjected, “On the other hand, power corrupts, but absolute power gets all the girls.” Everyone laughed, including the Old Man. Everyone, that is, except me. I was too busy thinking about what the Old Man had said. Maybe he was right that Heroes should not kill because that would put them above the law. On the other hand, I could not help but to think of an older law as I thought about the man who killed Dad. That law predated Amazing Man, the Hero Act, and even the United States itself. That law said an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.
“Remember this,” the Old Man said once the laughter from Myth’s comment had died off. “The fundamental reason why a Hero must be licensed in order to use his powers is because the law says so. A Hero must follow the law. If he doesn’t, he’s no better than the criminals and Rogues he fights. He’s no better than the mugger who takes an old lady’s purse simply because he can.”
The Old Man came around to the front of his desk. He perched on the edge of it and looked at the class intently. “There are two things I want to make sure everyone in this class learns, and that’s one of them. Every Metahuman possesses abilities that ordinary men can only dream of. Some of us Metas are powerful enough to take over the world.” He smiled ruefully. “Some of us have tried. The only thing that stops that from happening, the only thing that keeps this world from devolving into a place run by the biggest guy with the biggest stick is the law.” The Old Man grinned suddenly. “Or gal, Smoke, as I wouldn’t put world conquest past you.”
“Uhn-uhn,” Smoke said, shaking her head. “The world would be too much of a headache to run. I’d settle for a continent. South America, maybe. They have nice beaches.”
“What’s the other thing you want us to learn from you?” I asked.
The Old Man suddenly looked somber. “The second thing is the definition of the word ‘hero.’ No, I don’t mean the dictionary definition before one of you eager beavers quotes it to me. Nor do I mean how the Hero Act defines a Hero, namely a Metahuman who is licensed and legally able to use his powers. I mean what the word ‘hero’ means from a practical standpoint. The Academy is teaching you how to fight, but teaching you why to fight is even more important. Trying to get you all to understand the ‘why’ of fighting is why we have you read so much history, literature, and philosophy. We want to get you to absorb the lessons of the heroes—both Meta and non-Meta—who have gone before you.
“For my money, the meaning of the word hero can be summed up in one simple sentence: A hero is someone who sees what must be done, and he or she tries to do it regardless of the personal cost. It doesn’t sound very profound or important, does it? But it is. The man who works two jobs, deprives himself of sleep and ruins his health all to make sure his family has food to eat and a roof over their heads is a hero. The woman who sees a house on fire and runs in to save a child inside even though she will get burned herself, that woman is a hero. The man who sees another man getting beaten up by a group of people and intervenes at the risk of his own life and limb, that man is a hero.”
The Old Man looked each of us in the eye intently. “It’s so important that I’ll say it again: a hero is someone who sees what must be done, and tries to do it regardless of the personal cost. And, because everyone in this room is a Meta with a greater capacity than the average person to do things, we each have a correspondingly larger responsibility to do the things that must be done.”
Myth’s arm twitched. I just knew he was about to raise his hand again, but had stopped himself in time.
“So basically you’re saying with great power comes great responsibility,” Myth said. The Old Man grinned and winked at Myth.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. But, I was trying to avoid plagiarizing from a Spider-Man comic in order to say it. A real-life Hero ought not quote a comic book. It’s undignified.”
“The concept is actually much older than Spider-Man,” Myth said. “In the Bible, Luke 12:48 reads ‘When someone has been given much, much will be required in return; and when someone has been entrusted with much, even more will be required.’”
“Okay, now you’re just showing off,” the Old Man said. “I hereby take back the cigar I was going to give you.”
Something was bothering me. It had been bothering me ever since the Academy had been telling us a Hero does not kill. “What if they conflict?” I asked.
“What if what conflict?” the Old Man said.
“What if the law says to do one thing—not kill, for example—and what the Hero thinks needs to be done is the opposite of that thing. What does the Hero do?”
The Old Man looked somber.
“If you stay in this business long enough, you’re going to be confronted with that situation many times,” he said. “Lord knows I have. All you can do is what you think is best, and pray to hell that you made the right decision.”
17
The first clue that I was no longer the same simple country boy who had arrived at Camp Avatar was when I redirected Athena’s throwing stars back at her. The second clue was revealed when I got into a fight on my eighteenth birthday.
Once classes were introduced into the Academy, all the trainees were given a couple of days of leave to use as we wished. Before then, barring an emergency or unless we were under the orders of one of the instructors, trainees were not allowed to leave Camp Avatar. Or its airspace, in the case of those of us who could fly. Myth and Smoke convinced me to use one of my leave days to go into Portland with them to celebrate my eighteenth birthday. Since the drinking age in Oregon had been lowered from twenty-one to eighteen a few years b
ack, they planned to end our day on the town by taking me to a bar for the first time.
The three of us piled into one of the Academy-owned cars that were available for trainees to use. Myth was behind the wheel, I was in the front with him, and Smoke sat in the back. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. This was the first time in months I had worn anything other than the Academy’s red and black uniform. The jeans and polo shirt I had brought to camp with me and that had been packed away until now felt tight on me. Could they have shrunk?
Myth started the car. Smoke said, “Aren’t you two forgetting something?” right as Myth was about to put the car into gear. Myth and I looked at each other, puzzled.
“What did we forget?” I asked.
“Our masks,” Smoke said. “Don’t you think we’ll draw attention to ourselves if we drive and walk around with masks on? The camp’s guidelines are quite clear—trainees on leave are to not draw attention to themselves, to not use their powers, and to not let the civilian population know they are Hero trainees.”
Myth and I looked at each other again.
“I completely forgot I had the darned thing on, I’m so used to wearing it,” Myth said. He hesitated. “But if we take the masks off, we’ll all know what each other looks like. No offense, but I don’t know if I want to reveal my secret identity. I’m used to you all not knowing the real me.”
“Me too,” I said. Though I certainly did not have anything to hide and I had come to think of Myth and Smoke as my best friends, I did not know if I was willing to reveal my true face either. The importance of maintaining our secret identity had been pounded into us by our instructors. The fewer people who knew who was behind the mask, the less of a chance that information would fall into the wrong hands and be used against you.
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