The Academy

by Zachary Rawlins

  Alex thought about it for a while, resenting Mr. Windsor the entire time. Why should he bother trying to please a teacher who couldn’t fail him? One who taught a class about nothing?

  Especially, Alex thought, especially when he had such a terrible headache. Why did he have to get one now, of all times? He had to go to the gym in a little while, and now he felt like crap...

  “Well, I, I mean it wasn’t like there was nothing to do, but…”

  Alex’s mouth was dry, his hands were numb and his fingertips tingled. The area behind his eyes ached like a tooth gone bad, an ice-cold spike driven through his cerebrum. His mouth seemed to be working by itself, in the absence of any sign of his mental faculties returning.

  “There wasn’t any one thing that I did especially…”

  Alex had to go lie down. He was suddenly certain of it, and the very thought of putting his head on a pillow sounded so good then he actually felt better, just thinking about it. He had to go lie down, he knew it, the way he knew that the sky outside was blue.

  “I have to go lie down,” he mumbled, waving one hand in a vague sort of acknowledgment, or dismissal. Mr. Windsor watched him go stumbling out the door with a pained smile.

  Alex shambled right past Rebecca, who sat with her eyes screwed closed in the front row of the lecture hall, without even a shred of recognition on his face. He almost tripped over her outstretched foot without acknowledging her existence. She didn’t open her eyes until after the classroom door slammed shut behind him.

  “That was much worse than I was led to believe,” Mr. Windsor said plainly, taking off his glasses and rubbing the lenses against his shirt. “Did you send him away?”

  “That was fucking dangerous, is what it was,” Rebecca grumbled, standing up. “You were told not to engage him unnecessarily. You’ve been warned about bringing up Alex’s past, or pushing him too hard.” She shook her head irritably. “Why did you bring me here today?”

  “Why did you choose to hide your presence from him?” Windsor countered. “When did you learn how to do that? I am a bit impressed, actually. I thought it outside your capabilities.”

  “I don’t answer your questions, Gerald,” Rebecca snapped. “You answer mine. Don’t forget who you are talking to. What did you want me to see here?”

  “We are failing him,” Mr. Windsor said, hanging his head with the admission. “Surely it is obvious to you? Alexander Warner isn’t even a fraction of a person, not yet. He’s hardly even a beginning. And we aren’t giving him the kind of opportunities he needs in order to become whole. He isn’t capable of developing on his own, his disconnect goes too deep for that. Alex needs to be led out into the world gently, with patience and compassion. And we aren’t doing anything like that. We’re just teaching him how to kill people. Something he is almost certain to do, I might add, unless we give him the opportunity to do anything else with his prodigious talents.”

  Rebecca tapped her foot impatiently.

  “So, that’s it, huh? Remorse for Alex’s lost childhood? Or do you have some sort of rational reason for staging this little scene?”

  “I thought you should know,” Mr. Windsor said plaintively. “Alex trusts you more than anyone else he’s ever met, you realize that? Rhetorical question, of course you are already aware. But, do you take the responsibility that comes with that trust seriously? I’ve never been sure with you, Rebecca.”

  “Everyone trusts me because I am trustworthy, Alex included. You know, this was my favorite class when I was at the Academy,” Rebecca said fondly, sitting back down in the front row chair, “and you were my favorite teacher.”

  “Then help me teach him, Rebecca,” Windsor pleaded. “At least give me the opportunity.”

  Rebecca pursed her lips and looked away. After a little while, she shrugged uncomfortably, as if she wished she were somewhere else.

  “Don’t waste your time,” she said curtly. “Worry about the ones that can be helped. Make Alex’s homeroom experience as easy as possible, you understand? Nothing challenging, no difficult questions.”

  Mr. Windsor shook his head sadly, moving again to wipe his fogged-up glasses.

  “Say,” he asked curiously, “did it get cold in here a minute ago?”

  --

  “Do you want to sleep for a little while, now, Alex?”

  Alex’s face slowly contorted with the effort of thought. Speech was an even more involved process, and he managed little more than a grunt.

  “Okay,” Rebecca nodded from where she sat, eyes closed, her knees pressed against Alex’s, holding both of his limp hands tightly. “You rest now, Alex. You don’t have to go to sleep if you don’t want to, and if you do decide to sleep, you can wake up whenever you feel ready. And when you wake up,” Rebecca added, opening her eyes and smiling at the boy affectionately, “do me a favor and feel better, okay?”

  Alex may have nodded. Michael wasn’t sure, he couldn’t really see from where he sat, his chair tucked away in a corner of Rebecca’s cluttered and homey office. It might have simply been that she responded as if he had nodded.

  Rebecca shook her head, and stood up, unsteadily. Michael fought back an urge to help her – he knew from long experience that was the last thing Rebecca wanted. She took a few deep breaths, then walked the short distance between the new couch Alex was sprawled on and the desk where her cigarettes were, one hand running along the wall for support. Michael waited in polite silence until she was sitting with a lit cigarette in her hand.

  “Well? Anything?”

  Rebecca blew smoke at the ceiling and shook her head curtly.

  “You know it didn’t work,” she said crossly. “We’ve been at this for three fucking weeks, Michael, and you know perfectly well that I would be freaking out right now if I had managed to implant even one working protocol in that poor boy’s head. For fuck’s sake, Michael,” she snarled, “how much further are you planning on taking this?”

  Michael smiled thinly and crossed his legs.

  “Maybe if we tried a stronger imprinting…”

  “We can’t,” Rebecca said tiredly. “I’m already using Alex’s as a catalyst to try and implant through his innate resistance – I push any harder, we run the risk that he doesn’t know anything but the protocol afterwards.”

  Michael rubbed his smooth chin thoughtfully.

  “What does that catalyst effect feel like?” Michael asked, changing subjects. “I’ve read about it in theory, the feedback loop and all, but watching you…”

  Rebecca was quiet for a moment, her arm hanging in the air in front of her, frozen in the act of bringing the cigarette to her mouth.

  “It’s as intense as it looks, probably more,” she admitted, eyes averted. “The longer I hold on, the more difficult it is to break the connection.”

  “That must be frightening,” Michael observed.

  Rebecca glared at him.

  “The frightening part is that every time I do it I’m a little bit less inclined to try and break it at all.” Rebecca brooded, hugging one arm around her waist, looking absently in Alex’s direction. “My sanity is on the line, here, Michael, and you would do well to appreciate that fact when I ask you again, how much longer do you plan on pursuing this?”

  “The boy must be trained,” Michael said flatly, his face determined and his eyes serious. “He has powerful enemies, and that’s not likely to change. He needs to be able to protect himself. He needs to be able to operate protocols. Conventional protocols.”

  Rebecca flicked ash into the crowded tray on her desk. She looked at the day’s worth of paperwork, neatly piled in its manila folders in two parallel stacks, pristine, totally untouched, and sighed.

  “There’s no precedent for this, Michael. This kind of resistance has never been overcome, not even once. The only protocol I’ve been able to implant is Absolute, and when Alex operates it, it’s black,” Rebecca’s voice was surprisingly gentle when she said this, looking thoughtfully at Michael. He stirred in his chair
uncomfortably. “Before they augmented Mitsuru, it was the same deal with her.”

  “Someone broached the Academy Barrier last night,” Michael said flatly. “They did… whatever they did to that Horror, and then sent it here dying, so close to dead that it didn’t even register as living. That Barrier has never been broken, Rebecca, not in fifty years, and they did this just to get at that boy.” Michael leaned forward and met Rebecca’s eyes. “That boy has enemies,” Michael insisted, “and he needs to know how to use protocols in order to defend himself.”

  “If only there was more than one way to skin a cat, eh, Mikey?” Alice said playfully, sticking her head in through a gap in the door. “How long are you going to hold on to him, anyway?”

  Rebecca sighed and waved Alice into the office.

  “Are you guys planning on having another fight?” Rebecca asked, stubbing out her cigarette and then reaching for the pack. “Because I am so very not interested in that.”

  “I’m being serious,” Alice said insistently. “When are you going to start teaching him something, Michael?”

  Michael’s expression was stormy. He glared up at Alice, who took no apparent notice, settling behind the desk in Rebecca’s chair, putting her combat boots up in the two shallow grooves that Rebecca had worn in the desk’s surface, doing the same thing. Rebecca looked over at Alice as she slouched in her chair, sighed again, and then moved to the window sill, lighting another cigarette and pointedly looking out at the evening.

  “I am teaching him,” Michael said curtly. “And in affairs involving the students, I don’t have to answer to you.”

  Alice smiled and leaned forward in her chair.

  “I know, I know. This is professional curiosity here, Mikey, one colleague to another, looking for a little information,” Alice said, throwing her hands up innocently. “Wanted to figure out how long you plan on dicking around, using up Rebecca and the kid’s time, implementing standard protocols that you know perfectly well aren’t going to work.”

  Michael gritted his teeth, his hands tightening around the knobs on the arms of his chair, while Alice settled back in her chair and smiled. Rebecca sighed theatrically from across the room, but neither of them appeared to pay her any attention, they were so focused on each other. The staring match continued for a while, but Alice’s smirk was unflappable.

  “Why would Alex’s training be part of your concerns, Auditor?” Michael asked acidly.

  Alice hooted.

  “Oh, you want to make it formal?” Alice asked. “That’s fine. I’m within my rights. The boy’s an obvious candidate for Audits, you must have noticed.”

  “What?”

  To Rebecca, Michael’s disbelief seemed forced.

  “Sure, come on,” Alice said, laughing, “power like that, and with unconventional protocols? He’s a natural.”

  “Unconventional?” Michael almost spat, standing up and pointing at Alice. “You want him to use Black Protocols?”

  “Are the conventional ones working, then?” Alice asked innocently. Michael glowered at her, his face contorted with anger.

  “The boy is a powerful catalyst already,” Michael said, gesturing defiantly. “In his own right, he is already a considerable asset. Until we have exhausted all other options, even discussion of Black Protocols is premature.”

  “Rebecca?” Alice asked over her shoulder. “Have all the other options been exhausted?”

  They both turned and stared at the petite brunette, sitting on the window sill smoking and looking unhappy, one leg dangling out in the evening air.

  “Alice, you’re such a bitch,” Rebecca said, tired but not malicious. “I told you not to drag me into your bullshit.”

  “But I’m asking for your professional opinion, here, Rebecca,” Alice objected, feigning innocence.

  Rebecca looked over at them briefly, her eyes lingering sadly over the both of them in turn, and then returned her attention to world outside her window.

  “I don’t think that Alex can use conventional protocols,” Rebecca said grudgingly. “The imprint with the Absolute Protocol was successful, but it isn’t conventional when he operates it. Don’t hate me, Michael.”

  Alice turned back to Michael and smirked.

  “Just like Mitsuru, remember? You know the documentation as well as I do, Mikey. He’s a text book case. Just like I was.”

  Michael stood up angrily, his body shaking and his hands clenched.

  “Do you even remember that, Alice?” Michael’s voice was tight and cold, his face angry and miserable at the same time. Rebecca winced and put her head between her knees as if she were dizzy. “Or did you have to look it up in your diary?”

  Alice frowned briefly, and then shrugged.

  “You don’t have to be a dick about it.” A troubled look crossed Alice’s face, briefly, before her normal confidence reasserted itself. “Since you clearly think that you’ve got the moral high ground, why don’t you tell me what your grand plan is for training a student who can’t use conventional protocols? Will he be beating Weir to death with his bare hands?”

  Michael sat down heavily, as if he were angry at the chair.

  “I’ve had enough of your shit, Alice,” Michael said, rubbing his forehead. “This conversation is over.”

  Alice stood up slowly, pushing the chair in behind her, and walked up close to where Michael sat, bending down to look in his eyes, her face grave.

  “This is the last time I will ask you, Michael,” she said softly, almost sadly. “If you still don’t give me an answer, then I will have to address the matter as an Auditor. And,” she added thoughtfully, “then I won’t be asking at all.”

  Michael looked up at her, his face contorted, and then turned away.

  “Guys,” Rebecca said, breaking the tense silence, “you are aware that both of you have your own offices, right?”

  She looked over at them hopefully, but neither of them acknowledged her presence. Rebecca swore to herself quietly, first in English, and then when she ran out of curses, switched over to Spanish.

  “As I said earlier,” Michael began, his face composed and his voice calm, if tinged with a certain regret, “the boy’s abilities as a catalyst are already unprecedented. With the right partner, or even group of partners, he could be a formidable…”

  “Battery,” Alice cut in grimly, sitting down on the edge of Rebecca’s desk. “You want to use Warner as a battery, because you’re afraid of what might happen if you actually let him develop those powers, right?”

  “That’s not it!” Michael sputtered. “You know what kind of potential the boy has! And you should know better than anyone what the consequences of that boy using Black Protocols will be. We had this conversation about Mitsuru, once, and look how that turned out. Or have you,” Michael added pointedly, “forgotten about that too?”

  Alice winced, and then, after a moment, gave Michael a bitter smile.

  “You are afraid, in other words, and because you’re afraid, you want to deny him the opportunity to choose for himself. Pathetic.” Alice looked down at him coldly, her smile wider. “And he’s not ‘the boy’. His name is Alexander.”

  Rebecca started, giving Alice an appraising look.

  Alex made a show of yawning and stretching, sitting up slowly, well aware that all the eyes in the room had immediately shifted over to him the moment he stirred.

  “Alex. And he’s awake,” Alex said disinterestedly. “Been awake for a while now.” He looked up at Alice, and grinned at her sleepily. “You must be Miss Gallow, right?”

  Rebecca’s eyes narrowed.

  “Alex,” she asked softly, in a tone that could not be ignored, “how do you know about Alice?”

  Alex laughed and ran his fingers through his hair, brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

  “Because everyone talks about an Auditor named Alice Gallow who they are all afraid of, who wears black all the time,” Alex said, a bit sheepishly. “And she’s arguing with Michael like that’s no bi
g deal, so...”

  Alice shook her head, stifling a laugh.

  “This kid isn’t half dumb,” Alice observed. “I might be able to like you, Alex Warner.”

  Alex nodded solemnly.

  “I am difficult not to like, Miss Gallow,” he agreed. “Actually, I’m hopeless. There’s no teaching me anything.”

  “I told you,” Alice said, looking over at Michael with a mischievous grin, “Alex and I are like two peas in a pod.”

  “And that’s exactly what worries me.” Michael said flatly, arms folded.

  Rebecca pitched her cigarette butt out the window and then hurriedly occupied the chair behind her desk that Alice had vacated.

  “Actually, that worries me some too,” Rebecca said thoughtfully. “What do you think about all this, Alex?”

  Alex’s expression went suddenly blank, and he shot quick looks at both Alice and Michael before answering, his face clearly showing strain.

  “Well,” he said cautiously, choosing his words carefully, “I mean, Michael has been training me since I got here, and I’ve learned a lot from him, so I don’t really think it’s for me to say.”

  Alice guffawed, and then shot him a look of utter disappointment.

  “That what you think, Alex? Then maybe I was wrong about you after all. Maybe you aren’t in the right place, if you’re that eager to play good soldier.”

  “What?”

  Alex’s jaw hung open in frank astonishment.

  “Michael isn’t going to fight for you, or even with you, Alex,” Alice said bluntly. “Michael is going to teach you what he can, and he’ll do the best possible job of it. But once you are in the field, Michael will be back here at the Academy with the next generation of promising youngsters. Nobody can make that kind of decision for you,” Alice warned him, “no matter how good their intentions. Or your own. You have to take ownership of your life, eventually.”

  Rebecca nodded, looking sadly back at her cigarettes, sitting back on the window sill, where she’d left them.