Super Powereds: Year 2 (3 page)

“Because I trusted you enough to check out your reason for stealing. And, while I haven’t found proof, I also haven’t found anything to contradict your claim.”

Sean pulled back his arm and broke away.

“How does that stop me from running?”

“Because these five students are not some mystical batch using a resource that only existed once. They are a trial run, to test for long term side effects. In six more years, if they are still healthy and functioning, the procedure can be approved and used on other Powereds. Even then, the number of applicants they initially accept will likely be very small. Getting someone into that program will require a lot of influence. Now tell me, who do you think has a better chance of opening that door for someone: a recently released thief, or a rehabilitated and respected professor of the Hero Certification Program?”

“You spin a pretty story, Zero. One problem: that’s a lot of ifs. If it works. If they get clearance to accept more people. If I can earn favor with the right people. Don’t get me wrong, it’s very tempting. You’re just trusting a lot to faith,” Sean said.

“I’m aware,” Blaine acknowledged. “However there is one part I left out. Whether the program expands or not, there is one very concrete opportunity for you to do good.” Blaine held out the papers he’d been clutching. Sean tentatively took them in his spindly fingers and began to read. It wasn’t until he flipped to page three that his body language softened visibly.

“Is this...?”

“It is,” Blaine confirmed.

“My god, have I been in here that long? Last time I saw her she didn’t even come up to my hip.”

“A lot can change in fourteen years,” Blaine said.

“I suppose you’re right,” Sean acknowledged. “So this was your ace in the hole.”

“No; I knew you would have eventually come for the other reason. No matter how slim the chances were, you would have taken them regardless. That’s the kind of man you are. This was just to help the decision along. I’m on something of a time crunch,” Blaine explained.

“Well played, Zero,” Sean said. “I suppose you’ve got yourself a new professor.”

“In that case, you will refer to me as Dean Blaine at work and Blaine in our off hours. This is a different world than our old one, and I don’t need to muddle the two.”

“Agreed, but on one condition,” Sean stipulated.

“That is?”

“You let me keep the picture,” Sean said, gently waving the papers where a file photo was inked onto the third page.

“Deal,” Dean Blaine agreed. “I suggest you prepare yourself. You’ll be leaving this place in the morning.”

“I’ll have the maid pack my things,” Professor Sean Pendleton replied.

Dean Blaine stepped out of the room, and Professor Pendleton plopped down on the still-awful mattress where 48935 had sat mere moments before. He gazed at the poorly-pixilated image and was carried off, out of his cell, to a glimpse of the happier life he’d once had. In his wondrous drifting, a single phrase escaped his mouth.

“I can’t believe how much you look like her.”

* * *

There was a whoosh of air and a jerk as they began moving forward.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Mary asked.

“You’ll be fine. Yeesh, when did you become such a chicken?” Alice replied.

“It isn’t a matter of reason; it’s a matter of fear. I’ve spent most of my life on the ground among nature.”

“You did fine on the mountain,” Alice pointed out.

“There was ample earth beneath me.”

“What about when I flew with you?”

“That’s different,” Mary said. “I trust you more than I trust a team of poorly-paid workers commanded to slapdash wooden planks together in the hot summer sun. Besides, I was a little preoccupied at the time.”

A loud, rhythmic series of clicks began echoing from underneath them.

“Come on, try to enjoy it. This place was your idea anyway,” Alice said.

“It was this or another day touring the shops. I chose the lesser of two evils. Plus, I like riding the teacups.”

“We’ll go on them again after this,” Alice offered. “I just can’t believe I never knew you had this phobia.”

“It isn’t a phobia.”

“Didn’t you just say it was a fear not rooted in reason?”

“Yes I... but it... shut up.”

Alice laughed as the wind began to pull at her hair, their crest nearing its apex.

“Sorry, I just never get to see you flustered. All this time and it turns out roller-coasters are your hidden weakness.”

“At least one of us is enjoying this,” Mary said, her grip tightening on the metal bar pressed against her lap.

“I have a feeling we both will be by the time it’s over,” Alice said. “And besides, I told you if you rode it with me I’d go a whole week without bringing you along shopping. So don’t act like all the sacrifice is on your end.”

“Fine, fine. How much longer are we going to climb up, anyway?”

As the words crossed her lips their car began tilting forward, revealing a lush landscape along with a winding road of wood and steel.

“Off-handedly, I’d say not long,” Alice quipped before they plunged forward, all communication lost in the chaos of joyous screams.

* * *

The man lounging on the beach’s white sands was wholly unremarkable. Yes, his broad shoulders and strong frame hinted he might have once been a man of some physical prowess, but the streaks of ivory salting his once dark hair assured any observer that this man was well past that stage and into the one that involved daytime television and ranting at today’s youth. He wore a garish Hawaiian t-shirt despite the fact that he was in Tahiti, a pair of shorts, and no shoes. He owned a pair of flip flops for when he ventured into town, but with his home only a few paces away from the water, he rarely found the need to don them. He sipped a homemade margarita and watched the waves roll in as he kept a lazy eye trained on the book he was reading. As lax as he seemed, he was not startled one iota when a pair of suited men appeared a few feet away from him.

“Boys,” he said by way of greeting.

“Hello,” Mr. Transport replied. “How are things Mr. V-”

“Carl. I’m retired now, so it’s just Carl.”

“Of course. Carl,” Mr. Numbers said. “This is a lovely estate.” Mr. Numbers surveyed the houses behind him, all of them at least three-story and perfectly maintained, as was their landscaping.

“Say what you will about our company, they do have an excellent retirement plan,” Carl noted. He stuck a small scrap of paper in his book and set it down. He suspected this might take a while and he didn’t want to lose his place.

“I look forward to it,” Mr. Transport said, gazing at the pristine waters delicately moistening the sugary sand beneath his feet.

“I did too. And I’m enjoying it now. Which begs the question, what brings you two around? I’d welcome you for a visit, but I somehow doubt the policy on vacation time has become so generous.”

“Sadly, no. You see, we are here to offer you an impressive opportunity, one that would only be fitting for one with your years of tactical and-”

“None of that, Numbers. Just spit it out,” Carl cut him off.

“Fine. You’ve been offered a teaching role in the Lander University Hero Certification Program,” Mr. Numbers said succinctly.

“Thanks but no thanks. I’m already retired and set. Why would I need to take another job?”

“You don’t,” Mr. Transport agreed. “But we sort of need you to.”

Carl gave a more scrutinizing glance to his guests. Despite their professional appearance, they looked haggard. Not just the gaunt look of ones overworked: it was that of ones who had been truly put through a wringer of shit and were scarcely holding it together. Carl had seen that look before. He’d almost worn it himself a time or two. The company had an excellent retirement package, but surviving long enough to get it was sometimes akin to walking a minefield whilst blind and drunk.

“You boys messed up.”

The duo nodded.

“How bad?”

“Not terrible,” Mr. Transport replied.

“But bad enough,” Mr. Numbers tacked on.

Carl sighed and took another sip of his margarita. He really did love it out here. The ocean would still be around when he came back. It looked like the same couldn’t necessarily be said for Numbers and Transport.

“What kind of time frame are we talking about here?”

“You can accept as little as a year to fulfill our purposes,” Mr. Numbers informed him. “Though once we give you a full briefing, you may opt to stay longer.”

“Why is that?”

“Let us simply say that things have gotten very unboring on the Lander campus these days,” Mr. Numbers replied.

“That a fact? All right then, boys; for you I’ll come spend a year.” Carl stood from his sand-coated chair and dusted himself off lightly. “That said, since school likely doesn’t start for a few weeks, how about you two come inside? We can have a couple of drinks, and you can tell me just what is so interesting out in California.”

“I’m not sure we’re permitted time to relax and drink,” Mr. Numbers said.

“Nonsense. I haven’t signed any paperwork yet, and I refuse to do a favor for mere co-workers. I will only do one for friends. So, if anyone asks, you can honestly tell them this was a necessary step in my recruitment,” Carl said.

“Touché,” Mr. Numbers said.

“Now then, Transport, let us get you behind the bar. I’ve never had a Mai Tai that can compare with yours.”

“It would be my pleasure, sir,” Mr. Transport replied.

1.

Vince’s back popped as he stretched after the car ride. It wasn’t a terribly long trip, but it was long enough to make the former nomad feel cooped up and trapped. Thankfully, he’d held it together and now he gazed at his reward: Lander campus, lush in the late summer as students scurried about its grounds. He didn’t recognize any of them, which was to be expected given Lander’s size, but he did recognize the looks in some of their eyes. Confused, excited, filled with wonder, and trying to piece together where the building they needed was, these were clearly freshmen. Vince would have offered them some assistance; however, he had other duties to first attend to.

Vince pulled his own backpack from the trunk of Ms. Daniels’ station wagon, then helped Hershel with his luggage. Hershel paused their unloading process when his mother approached.

“Be sure to take care of yourself,” Ms. Daniels said as she held her boy tight and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll be careful,” Hershel assured her. Vince was next to receive one of Ms. Daniels’ powerful embraces, though mercifully he was spared the cheek kiss that accompanied Hershel’s.

“Thank you for everything, ma’am,” Vince said politely. “I really appreciate you letting me stay in your home this summer.”

“Such a proper young man. You watch out for yourself, too. I expect you both back safe and sound when the year ends.”

“I’ll do my best,” Vince said. Ms. Daniels accepted this for the honesty it was and stepped back into her car. With a quick crunch of tires and small cloud of dust, Vince and Hershel found themselves once more alone in the world of Lander.

Vince tossed his backpack on his shoulders and scooped up a few of Hershel’s bags. “It’s good to be back,” he commented as they began the brief walk to Melbrook.

“No joke," Hershel agreed. “You think we’re the first ones?”

“Since Alice actually lives in California and Mary was staying with her, I’m sure they beat us back,” Vince said, answering the question Hershel had clearly wanted to ask. Hershel turned a bit red in the ears with embarrassment, though why he felt the need he wasn’t sure. He and Mary were boyfriend and girlfriend. She’d even visited twice over the summer’s span. So while there was no rational reason for him to turn red at the accusation of missing her, the tips of his ears burned all the same.

They came upon Melbrook shortly, its familiar brick facade a strangely comforting sight. It had been freshly pressure-washed and all but shone in the afternoon sun, welcoming back those who called it home with warmth and comfort. The boys buzzed in through the front door, then walked through the hallway door and entered the common room to find they were the last arrivals.

Alice hopped off the couch and dashed over, giving Vince then Hershel powerful hugs that only a girl with her height and arm span could manage. Mary was subtler, giving Vince a quick half hug, then sidling up to Hershel and taking his hand in hers as she stood close. Mary was never one for gratuitous affection, but the understated action spoke volumes of how she’d missed her man.

The final body to shamble up from its sprawled position on the couch was a sandy-haired youth with a new pair of sunglasses, somewhat more fashionable than last year’s, seated on the bridge of his nose.

“I knew you’d come back,” Vince said, shaking his friend’s hand.

“Believe it or not, after living with you nut jobs, Vegas felt... boring.” Nick spat out that last word, wiping his tongue across his teeth to scrape away the bad taste that accompanied it.

“Whatever you say,” Vince agreed. Nick moved on to give a quick shake of the palms to Hershel as well, and just like that, all five of the Melbrook students were reassembled.

“So when did you guys get in?” Vince asked.

“Mary and I made it this morning, Nick only beat you two by about an hour,” Alice informed him.

“Cool, so have you gotten to talk to anyone?” Vince asked. “I spoke to Will and Thomas briefly over the summer. They weren’t exactly happy with us, but I think we’re okay with them.”

“Alex harbored no ill will at all,” Hershel added.

Alice shook her golden locks to the negative. “We weren’t as close with the others as you guys were, and we haven’t really been able to run them down and talk things out today.”

“Why not?” Hershel asked.

A well-built man in spectacles stepped into view from their kitchen.

“I’m afraid I’m to blame for that,” Dean Blaine said, striding across the room and taking a seat in one of the area’s many chairs.

“You didn’t let them leave?” Hershel asked.

“I prefer to say I strongly advised against it until the rest of you had arrived. You see, we have much to talk about, and I would be remiss in my duties if I didn’t give you a comprehensive idea of what to expect in this new school year,” Dean Blaine explained.