Joss the Seven

by J. Philip Horne

  “We going in?” Thomas asked.

  I glanced at him and nodded, but stayed put and studied the building. It looked like a worn-out, smallish warehouse. Three loading bay doors were closed, and there were stairs and an access ramp to a normal door to the left of them, about four feet above the parking lot. White paint had flecked off in places to expose concrete underneath. Mara’s little Toyota sat out front, parked next to a black, two-door BMW.

  “Let’s do this,” I said, and pushed off. Thomas was right behind me.

  We pulled in next to the ramp, and Thomas locked our bikes together to the ramp railing. I gave him a quick nod when he stood up from the bikes, and we headed up the stairs to the door. On it, small letters proclaimed it was the BATTLEHOOP SCHOOL OF MARTIAL ARTS. I pulled open the door, and Thomas and I stepped through.

  The inside was a huge room with a couple offices along the left side and bathrooms toward the rear. The shades were drawn on the offices, hiding their interiors. The middle of the room was dominated by a raised, square platform covered with firm-looking blue mats. Nine large white circles were painted on the mats, like a giant game of tic-tac-toe, except everyone had played Os. The platform stood about waist high off the floor.

  All sorts of gym equipment were scattered around the platform. Heavy bags, speed bags, stationary bikes, racks of free weights, yoga mats, medicine balls, and other stuff. Over to the right of the entrance, from this side, the loading bay doors looked like they had been sealed off. The whole place smelled of rubber and metal.

  A very large man came out of the door to the office closest to the front wall. He was wearing a black tank top, black baggy pants that were cinched at his ankles, and white tennis shoes. His dark, shaved scalp reflected the lights hanging from the ceiling.

  He wasn’t just large. He was huge. Maybe six and a half feet tall and all muscle. Thomas and I shifted in place as he walked over to us. Then Mara stepped out from behind him and gave me a smile.

  “Hey Joss,” she said. “Glad you came by. Jordan, this is Joss.”

  The huge man nodded to me. “Joss, glad you decided to come by. You made the right choice.” He spoke in a low, quiet voice.

  “And this is Joss’ friend, Thomas,” Mara said. “I told you about him.”

  “Hey,” Thomas said.

  Jordan glanced at Thomas and nodded, then turned back to me. “Mara says you passed test one.” He looked like my sister did when she was waiting to open her Christmas gifts. Excited and greedy. It looked gross on a grownup.

  “Yeah, test one,” I said. “I stuck my finger in a steel pole.”

  “Good.” His face relaxed. “Joss, you did the right thing coming here today. I know this all seems, well, sudden, but I’ve been assigned by the Guild to get you trained fast. We believe a Mocker is on your trail, and we think you’re just the person to take him down. We’re going to turn the tables on him. Got it?”

  “I think so,” I said. “Well, not really.”

  Jordan smiled for a moment. “It’ll be fine. Plenty of time for questions later.” He turned to Mara. “Take him through the rest of the tests. I’m going to show Thomas the incredible program we are offering at Battlehoop this summer and see if we can sign up some of their friends.”

  “Sure thing,” Mara said. “Joss? Let’s just step over to one of these yoga mats. We can run through the rest of the tests in no time.”

  “I… uh…” I said.

  Jordan laid a big hand on Thomas’ shoulder and took him over to a small table stacked with papers along the front wall. Mara put a hand on my left elbow and guided me to the left side of the platform. A neat stack of papers, two pens, a hand mirror, and a pincushion sat on the floor beside a yoga mat. I could hear Jordan talking in a low rumble, but couldn’t catch the words.

  Well, Thomas and I were still in sight of each other. I’d roll with it. Mara and I sat on either end of the yoga mat facing each other. She had changed since the park. She was now barefoot and wearing leggings with a fitted T-shirt that said MY DAY STARTS WITH COFFEE.

  “Let’s start at the beginning. Can you show me?” She said. “Test one? Just use the floor.”

  “I… sure.” I closed my eyes and concentrated. I felt the change. It happened almost immediately. I stuck my finger into the concrete floor. It went in all the way up to the last joint this time.

  “Quick tip,” Mara said. “Don’t get in the habit of closing your eyes. Any little tic like that can become a habit.”

  “Okay. So my eyes should be open?”

  “Open or closed. Doesn’t matter. Just don’t close them if they are open. Don’t make a habit out of any specific approach to using your talent.”

  “Got it,” I said, like we were just making small talk while I wiggled my finger in concrete. “Wait. No I don’t. Why not?”

  “As a Seven, you want to develop flexibility. Adaptability. You don’t want needless habits hindering your use of your talents.”

  “I think that makes sense.” I pulled my finger out of the concrete and let it return to normal. “I slept like 14 hours last night. That was after a two-hour nap.”

  “Totally expected,” she said. “It’s hard on the body when a Seven comes into his powers. I think I crashed for a full day and night. It’s why I told you in the letter to do the tests right before bed.”

  “Oh. That makes sense. So you’re a Seven. You can heal yourself.”

  “I am, and I can. I’m a shifty reggie,” Mara said.

  “A shifty reggie,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Mara said. “Each of the seven talents has a nickname. You’ve read all seven tests?”

  “Yes. I, uh, don’t remember all the details.”

  “That’s fine,” she said. “You’ll pick it up. A shifty reggie is test seven, shape shifting, and test three, regeneration. Those are my two talents. So I can take a lot of damage and keep going, and I can honestly say there’s not a better shape shifter out there than me.”

  Shape shifting. Something clicked in my mind.

  “The letter,” I said. “Yesterday at school. Some teachers thought they saw a wolf or dog or something about the time your letter ended up in my locker.”

  “Guilty.” Mara smiled. “I didn’t go in as a wolf. I started much more discretely, but when I saw you go into the principal’s office, I thought it might help you out if there was a distraction of some sort.”

  “You saw me? Going to the principal’s office?” That motion I’d seen. “Were you, maybe, smaller at first?”

  “I was. Like I said, I’m a very good shifter. Most can’t really change their mass when shifting. I can. Lets me stay unnoticed.”

  “Huh.” I glanced over at Thomas. He and Jordan were looking at some papers together. “I guess I owe you, cause I was going to get busted.”

  “Glad I could help.”

  “And you said Sevens don’t have all seven talents?”

  “Right,” Mara said.

  “And this?” I nodded at my finger and stuck it back into the concrete.

  “You’re a ghost. Doing that is called ghosting. The talent names get used lots of different ways.”

  “What’s the point of sticking your finger in concrete,” I asked. “I mean, if I play it right I’m sure I can win some bets, but what’s the point?”

  “Well, we’re going to help you learn to pass your whole body through solids. We’re going to teach you to control your movements when in solids, and to stay safe.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah,” Mara said. “It’s not a talent to be trifled with.”

  “And you said I’d learn to do it safely? It can be unsafe?”

  “You don’t want to run out of steam, say, when you are passing through a steel wall,” she said. “But we’ll get to all that. First, let’s do the rest of the tests.”

  “Will it make me tired again?” I asked.

  “Using talents is always an exertion, but it’s like using muscle. You get stronger with practice, and it wil
l never be as bad as that first time. Not even close.”

  “Why wouldn’t my parents want me to know about the Guild? What is it?”

  “You like asking questions.” She smiled. “The Guild’s an organization, a really old one, devoted to using the Sevens to keep the world sane. It’s made of ranking members of the various families, the ones who still care. I don’t really know why your parents didn’t want you knowing about the Guild, but they aren’t the only ones who feel that way. More and more Sevens go through life never knowing about their talents.”

  “But why?”

  “Well, I guess some parents think it’s a bunch of myths. Family legends. That sort of thing. They don’t want their kids sucked in by an organization fronting a myth.”

  “Mara?” I asked.

  “Yes, Joss?

  “I’m pretty freaked out by all of this.”

  “I understand.” Mara leaned forward and reached out to give my hand a quick squeeze. “That’s the heart of it, isn’t it? It doesn’t matter how cool it is, or how amazing the talents. They aren’t normal, and that makes it feel bad.”

  “Something like that.”

  “I get it. I’ve been there. You’ll do great. Let’s just take one step at a time. The tests?”

  I felt like the whole world was holding its breath, waiting on my answer. Why was all this happening to me? I didn’t have the answers. I could stick my finger into metal and concrete. That’s what I knew. And I wanted to know more.

  “Let’s do the tests,” I said.

  Chapter 6

  SEVENTY-SEVEN

  “LET’S RUN THROUGH the tests in order,” Mara said. “We’ll start with bruising.”

  “Bruising?” I asked.

  “Think of bruising others, not you. Makes sense? A bruiser can harden himself to the point where bullets bounce off him. Or, picture your hand hardened when you hit someone. It can be a real asset in a fight. Of course, bruisers tend to move a bit slower and more stiffly.”

  “Yeah, of course. I’ve heard they totally move slower.”

  Mara gave me a warm smile. It made me want to do something heroic. “Do you remember the test? Relax. Concentrate. Make your finger hard as rock.”

  I concentrated on my finger, picturing it harden into stone. My eyes started to close, but I forced them open this time, and after a few seconds I felt a change. I reached down and tapped the floor. My finger pinged against the floor as though two rocks were being tapped together.

  “Wow.” Mara’s eyebrows lifted. “You’re also a bruiser. I don’t think that’s common.”

  “What’s not common?” I said. “Is any of this common?”

  “I mean, the bruiser-ghost combo is uncommon. They’re very yin-yang, so it’s fantastic to have both. Just not common.”

  “Okay,” I said. So I wasn’t just a freak, but an uncommon freak.

  “Onward!” Mara said.

  She reached over to the pincushion and selected a pin.

  “Your hand?” she said. “Need to check if you are a reggie like me.”

  “I meant to ask about reggie. What’s up with that name?”

  “Short for regeneration. Think, Wolverine.”

  I nodded in appreciation and held out my hand. Mara took it and jabbed the pin into my index finger.

  “Ow! What the heck?” Blood welled up from the puncture in my fingertip. “Did you have to stick it in all the way to the bone?”

  “Don’t be a baby.” Mara put the pin back. “Now concentrate. Try to heal it.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “If you can do it, it’ll feel natural, even the first time. Reggie is usually the most intuitive talent. In fact, it’s the only talent that can be trained to run on auto-pilot. Over time your body just starts healing itself, usually before you even know there’s a problem. But that can take years to acquire.”

  I concentrated, and I had the odd sensation of the pain just melting away. A gleaming droplet of blood still sat on my fingertip, but the pain was gone. Intrigued, I stuck my finger in my mouth and cleaned off the blood with one good lick.

  “Ewwww,” Mara said.

  I held out my finger, awestruck by the seamless whole skin. I showed it to Mara. Her eyes widened.

  “Ghost. Bruiser. Reggie. Three talents. And we’ve only done three tests. Let’s keep going.”

  “Hold on,” I said. “This whole auto-pilot thing. Why didn’t your cut heal immediately? Back at Beckler Park?”

  Mara nodded at me and smiled. “Good memory. I was actually concentrating on not healing for a minute there. I figured you’d think I’d faked the cut if it didn’t bleed a little first.”

  “That’s pretty intense.” A wave of tiredness swept over me. “Whoa. Starting to feel like I need to rest.”

  “I told you it would be tiring.” Mara picked up a pen and set it on the mat between us. “Let’s keep moving. Try to rotate it.”

  I reached out and flicked the pen on one end. It spun in place.

  “I think I’m pretty good at this one.” I smirked. “What’s that talent called?”

  “It’s called being a smart-ass.”

  I looked back down at the pen. This whole thing was madness. I’d just healed myself. Now I was going to move a pen without touching it? I clamped down on my emotions. Just had to keep talking. Keep taking the tests.

  “So what’s this one really called?” I asked.

  “Telly.”

  “Telly?”

  “Yeah, like, telekinesis.”

  “I get it,” I said, nodding.

  I concentrated and pictured the pen moving. Nothing happened. I reached for the pen with my mind. For a moment, I was thrown off by the odd sensation that I could feel the pen. That I was somehow holding it. I concentrated harder.

  The pen jerked around a quarter turn. It felt as though I had moved the pen with some invisible appendage, but the pen had felt more like a couch.

  “Huh,” I said. “That’s pretty cool.”

  My body felt weak, and I couldn’t hold back a yawn.

  “I’m stunned,” Mara said. “We’re getting into pretty rare territory with four talents. Add telly to your list of talents. Three more to go, Joss. Do you think you have any more talents to show?”

  How should I know? Mara’s eyes looked past me over my shoulder, and I twisted around to see Thomas and Jordan walking over to us. I looked back at Mara. She raised an eyebrow in question, still looking at Jordan.

  “We’re good to go,” Jordan said. “Thomas here is going to recruit our class for us. He’s going to be rewarded for getting us at least three more students. And to keep his mouth shut about his friend.”

  I glanced over to Thomas, who gave me a quick thumbs up.

  “Class?” I asked.

  “Just finish the tests,” Jordan said, “then we’ll break it down for you. Any other passes?”

  “He’s a ghost, bruiser, reggie, and telly,” Mara said. “Three tests to go.”

  Jordan’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead and made a run for his bald scalp.

  “That’s unusual,” Jordan said.

  “Awesome.” Thomas looked from me to Mara, and then Jordan. “That’s good, right?”

  Mara ignored Thomas and pulled a paper printed with a picture of a brick wall from the bottom of the stack of paper.

  “Back to work.” Mara lay the picture on the mat in front of me. “I know this is exhausting. You’ll get through it, and it will make you stronger. Next up is blending.”

  “Like, blending into things?”

  “That’s about it. Now relax. Concentrate. Lay your hand on the paper. Imagine you can see the picture through your hand.”

  I relaxed. I concentrated. I put my hand on the paper. I concentrated some more. Nothing happened. Jordan grunted.

  “So, not a blender,” Mara said. Was there a hint of satisfaction in her voice?

  I ignored them. It felt like my hand shouldn’t still be visible, but there it was. I was doing something w
rong. I had been trying to will the picture of the bricks to become visible through my hand. Instead I shifted my focus to the hand alone. The hand was opaque, but I thought of it just fading from sight. Not like with ghosting. Still solid, but invisible.

  “Whoa!” Thomas yelled, just as Mara inhaled sharply.

  “Yes!” Jordan’s voice had an edge of abandon to it, like his team had just kicked a winning field goal in overtime.

  My hand was still there. It looked normal.

  “What? It isn’t working,” I said.

  “Oh, it’s working,” Mara said. “You’ll make a fine blender.”

  If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought she was mad. Her eyebrows were pulled together and her tone sounded harsh.

  “But…”

  “Blenders can’t see themselves blending.” Jordan’s words came out in a rush. “They have to be coached. All the talents need coaching, but blenders more than others. Even when you’re more or less invisible to others, you’ll seem normal to yourself.”

  I looked at my hand. It was my hand. I looked up at Thomas.

  “I think I may sort of see your fingers,” Thomas said as he stepped closer. “Nope, they are pretty much gone. This is awesome.” He glanced at Jordan. “And totally top secret.”

  “Joss,” Mara said. “Two more.”

  “Hold on,” I said. “Do I have to be naked for this to work? I mean, once I learn how to really do it with all of me? How does it work?”

  “No.” Mara grimaced. What had gotten into her? “It’s not like that. Ghosts, bruisers, blenders, and shifters… it’s hard to explain. Basically, stuff close to you gets pulled along by the talent. But it has to be really close. Like, within an inch.”

  “So when I ghost?”

  “Your clothes ghost with you as long as they’re fairly snug.”

  “And if they aren’t?” I asked.

  “Let’s say you wore a cowboy hat while ghosting through a wall. The main part of the hat would ghost with you, but the brim would probably be destroyed if you took it through something solid. It’s why, when you meet other Sevens, you’re going to notice most of us wear tight clothing.”