by Hayes, Drew
“You’re the expert.” Alice pretended not to see the dirty look he shot her, which only made the look grow dirtier. Rather than dwelling, Professor Pendleton got back to the matter at hand.
“Anyway, Britney is going to be the best at infiltration. Will, on the other hand, should absolutely brush up on his hacking and surveillance skills. With his kind of talent and a budget for gadgets, he could create a whole secret network of surveillance.”
“That seems a tad… dystopian,” Will said.
Professor Pendleton rolled his eyes so theatrically it seemed like he would sprain them. “Sorry, did you miss the first two years, where I drove home the moral ambiguity of what we do? You didn’t seem to have any issue with hacking the security cameras of a mall when you were tailing me, so sooner or later, I think we both know you’ll go back to that well.”
Will shuffled his feet and looked away before mumbling, “That was a much smaller scale.”
“Look, the things you’ll access aren’t usually going to be permissible in a court of law—though there are some methods you can use if it comes to that—but they will net you information. Where an enemy is, if an ambush is being set up, what someone’s weaknesses might be, all the things we’ve been training for. Yes, you’re going to catch information you don’t want, that you’d prefer never to know in the first place, but that’s the price for what your talent lets you do. Remember when I said other Heroes don’t like those of us in Subtlety? There’s a reason for that. We know too many secrets. Because, every now and then, all that random intel you’ve gathered might just save a life. And you, Will Murray, are not going to shy away from the uncomfortable if you deem it necessary, so let’s at least train you to do it well.”
After a moment to consider his words, Will looked up from the floor and nodded. The professor was right; he would do whatever it took when things got serious. Especially if Jill was out in the field as well.
“And lastly, that leaves you,” Professor Pendleton said, turning to Alice. “Now, since you and Will both have some solid combat potential, I’d recommend both of you make time to work on those skills. One never knows when they will come in handy, even for our type of Hero. As for this class, you’re okay with a cypher, so I’d say keep training in that when you have the time. Overall, though, your best piece of Subtlety has always been the human element. Tricking the security guard during the tailing exam, conning your fellow competitors in the final, even picking the right person to ally with for that test. You’ve got a knack for people, which means you’ll need to hone that blade as sharp as you can get it. Britney and Will can get by using resources Lander has to train their sorts of talents, but yours is a bit trickier.”
“True. It’s not like I’ll learn much by manipulating my classmates, and messing with the professors is probably frowned upon,” Alice agreed. “And the Sims won’t be much use, either.”
“Not for that task, no,” Professor Pendleton said. “There is a tool that might do the trick, though. Thing is, since no one was expecting you to pick Subtlety, we didn’t bother requisitioning it. Could take a week or so to get it here.”
Alice made a sharp tsk sound against the back of her teeth. “Making assumptions and failing to plan ahead? You’d berate us six ways to Sunday if any of us made that mistake.”
“Which brings us to the one lesson you all need to know as Subtlety Heroes: never admit fault and always shift the blame. Remember, we must always seem to know more than everyone in the room, even if we don’t.” Professor Pendleton raised his voice, loud enough to be heard, but not so much as to seem like he was shouting. “And I just cannot believe that Dean Blaine forgot to send in those requisition forms. Let this be a lesson, students. Planning ahead is a Hero’s greatest asset.”
It spoke volumes to the self-control of the Subtlety students that none broke into giggles as Dean Blaine glared at his unapologetic subordinate.
18.
As the last of the students, Allen Wells, finished discussing the upcoming training plan with his professor, Dean Blaine clapped his hands together sharply, gathering the attention of everyone in the room, student and teacher.
“Now that the most pressing matter is completed, if you would all line up once more, there are a few things to discuss before your gym class begins in earnest.”
It took no more than those words for every student to fall back into line, waiting patiently to hear the next twist or curveball coming their way. After so long in the HCP, they’d learned to take nothing for granted and to expect surprises at every turn. This was, obviously, a very intentional part of the program and one of the elements Dean Blaine considered most crucial in their education.
“As Professor Fletcher told you earlier, there will be exams testing your progress at the end of every month this year. The more astute of you have no doubt realized that that would put your first exam at the end of next week, as August is already drawing to a close. I want to take a moment and put your minds at ease. Yes, you will absolutely be undergoing an exam next Friday.”
In previous years, before he’d really gotten the hang of it, Dean Blaine had paused between the assurance that he was putting their minds at ease and the reveal that there would indeed be a test. In younger students, it would have heightened the sense of surprise and made a bigger impact on them, but by the time they were seniors, they’d listened to him too many times to be caught off guard by a simple trick like that. This merely meant he had found another way to make them take things extra seriously.
“In previous years, we have used a first exam as something of a baseline to measure your progress with, and that will be the case this time as well. There will be no information handed out beforehand, not even whether you’ll be alone or in teams. All I can tell you is that while we will be evaluating your performance, we will not be the only ones.”
Now that perked some ears up, uncertainty taking over where stoic attention had previously resided. Some were probably guessing that the DVA would be observing, which was a fair guess given their presence in the school, but Dean Blaine had a hunch that at least a few of the smarter ones already knew where this was going.
“As you all know, at the end of the Hero Certification Program, those who graduate will begin internships under experienced Heroes. Some of you will be offered those personally; others must apply and hope they are accepted. Both are perfectly valid methods to acquire a trainer, as not every Hero takes an active role in observing potential graduates. However, if any of you do have a particular trainer you want to work under, now is the time to start impressing them. Heroes will be dropping in throughout the year to watch your exams, but I’d be lying if I said one of the biggest crowds wasn’t at the first one. This is where they decide who stands out, who is worth watching, and who won’t be a good fit. So, if anyone was thinking about taking it easy on the first test, setting a low bar for themselves to surpass, know that you do so at the possible detriment to your own future training.”
In truth, Dean Blaine knew none of the students this far along would try and lean on such cheap tricks to get by; that sort had long since been culled from the ranks. But he also knew that everyone dug a little deeper, fought a little harder when there was something tangible on the line. This would get the best out of them, and with that information, he’d truly be able to assess the growth and potential of his students. Besides, Dean Blaine was damn proud of the Supers he was molding, and every year he wanted to make sure the Heroes who attended understood just how special his kids were.
“Once the exam is done, you will all have the opportunity to meet and chat with the Heroes who attended at a nice mixer put on down here. I’d advise you to bring your best social skills to bear at this and all subsequent occasions. After all, showing promise is important, but no one wants to train someone they don’t get along with.”
Dean Blaine had seen more than a few promising students blow opportunities for the best possible training because they couldn’t keep their egos in chec
k. Luckily, he didn’t imagine that would be much of an issue with this class. The students who most commonly fell into that trap were those at the top of the ranking, and, with the possible exception of Roy, every one of the top students were the humble sort. Of course, that had the possibility of changing soon.
“In addition to using this first exam as a way to get a baseline for you all, I should inform you that it will also be used to reassess the class’s combat ranking,” Dean Blaine continued. “Losing last year’s finals complicated many things, but we feel it’s important to have a clear picture of where you currently stand. Top of the class or down at the bottom, come next week you have the chance to completely change your ranking. The next reassessment will be on your mid-year exam, which will be your last chance to change ranks until the final. While not everyone has chosen majors that demand high ranks to graduate, the vast majority of you have, so use this opportunity wisely.”
Dean Blaine paused, intentionally giving his students a chance to absorb all that he’d thrown at them. It was a lot to start off the year with, and that was by design. Things weren’t going to get less stressful or intense when they became Heroes. They either adapted to the increase in constant pressure, or they washed out. Hero-work was not for those who feared chaos.
“Lastly, before you go, I want to talk about Hero code names. We don’t bother discussing this until senior year, since there’s no point in doing the paperwork for those who wash out, but now is the time to start thinking of what you want to call yourself. The deadline isn’t until graduation; however, those of you who make your pick early will have an easier time of it. Once you have one in mind, come see any of us and we’ll check on its availability. If it’s open, we can reserve it for you, pending graduation. If not, back to the drawing board. So far as the actual choice goes, there are many different schools of thought. Some favor a name that captures the essence of your powers, while others like things a bit more off-the-wall. In the end, my recommendation would be that you pick something with significance to you. Names have power, and the ones we choose even more so. Pick a moniker you’ll be proud to wear, even if no one understands why but you.”
Dean Blaine, the man formerly known as Zero, concluded his speech and turned to Professor Fletcher, signaling him to begin gym.
19.
“Guess I know what I’m doing with my weekend.” Vince all but fell onto a couch in the Melbrook common room, burying his head under a decorative pillow and letting out a long, frustrated grunt of air. “How the hell did I forget about picking names?”
“You did hear the part where we don’t have to choose them until the end of the year, right?” Alice said, setting her own backpack down as she, Mary, Roy, and Chad followed Vince into the dormitory. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned with whatever test is coming up?”
“Sure, that worries me, but we’ve gone through three years of those. Plus, I’ve spent all summer training as hard as I can. That’s scary, but it’s a familiar kind of scary. Figuring out my Hero name… I have no idea how to even approach that.” Vince pulled his head out from under the pillow and sat up, looking at his friends. “Do you guys have any ideas for yours?”
“Don’t look this way. The only thing I’ve figured out so far is that I’m damned sure not answering to ‘Slugger,’” Roy replied. He’d tolerated that makeshift name during the attack on Lander only because of how little it had mattered compared to what was going on around them. This wasn’t the same thing, however. A Hero’s name was his brand; it was the name that got plastered on t-shirts, cheered by fans, and nervously whispered by criminals. Neither he nor Hershel had any solid ideas for one yet; they just knew it had to be good. And, ideally, not in any way related to Greek mythology—especially gods and titans.
“I’ve reserved mine, though it is inherited, not chosen,” Chad said.
This comment took exactly zero people in the room by surprise. Chad had declared long ago that he intended to redeem the name Intra, and since then, he’d made damn fine progress on doing just that. While it was nice to hear that he was making progress in acquiring the rights to wear his father’s name, it didn’t help any of the others with the problem at hand.
“Personally, I’ve been on the fence.” Alice sat down in one of the empty recliners, getting comfortable since it seemed they were going to be chewing the fat on this subject for some time to come. “Part of me wants to pick a name related to gravity somehow, you know? Since that’s how I get my powers. But on the other hand, I’m majoring in Subtlety, so I feel like I need a name that’s a little less on the nose.”
“How about ‘The Cheek’?” Mary suggested.
Alice tried to hit her with a pillow, which the smaller woman deftly dodged. “Sorry, sorry. Nick isn’t here, so someone had to say it,” Mary quickly explained.
“What about you, little Miss Smartass?” Alice said, lowering her feather-stuffed weapon but not releasing it entirely. “Got any ideas for your own name?”
“I… hadn’t given it much thought,” Mary admitted, though her pause and momentarily downcast eyes pricked Alice’s curiosity. “Maybe I’ll just use the one from last summer. ‘Short Brain’ isn’t so bad.”
“Maybe not, but it ain’t that great, either,” Roy pointed out. “And your name is something important. It’s what will outlive you, the foundation that everything you do and inspire will be built upon. Dean Blaine hit the nail on the head earlier: even if no one else gets it, your name should mean something to you.”
“Plus,” Vince said, his voice a touch quieter than it had been before, “do you really want to take a name from that night?”
“I get the appeal there,” Alice countered. “Painful, terrible as that night was, it was also the first time we all acted as Heroes. That matters, all the more so because no one made us. I can see why Mary might draw strength from that memory.” Alice paused, considering her closest friend carefully. “That said, Short Brain is still a pretty shitty name.”
“Guess that puts me in the same boat as the rest of you,” Mary replied. “What’s your plan, Vince? Have a think-tank session until we brainstorm good names for all of us?”
“I actually didn’t have a plan,” Vince said. “Aside from worrying and trying really hard to think something up this weekend.”
“Never going to happen.” Alice had pulled out her phone to check the time. They had an hour or so before all but the latest classes were dismissed and the first weekend of the school year officially dawned on Lander. “Come on, I can’t be the only one to see this coming. It’s Friday—the first Friday of our last year here—and also the only time we’re all guaranteed to be off. Unless Supper with Supers has you two coming in already?”
Vince shook his head. “We’re supposed to show up next Tuesday to get our hours for the year.”
“That’s what I thought,” Alice said. “And Six-Shooter isn’t scheduled to have its grand reopening for another two weeks. That leaves us completely free, with no ready excuses, and a whole weekend of time to kill. Do I really have to spell this out for you?”
Of all people, it was Roy who caught her meaning first. “Son of a bitch… Nick’s going to try and corral us into watching slasher flicks, isn’t he?”
“The only things you can count on: death, taxes, and our friend’s insatiable appetite for torturing us with C-movie gore-fests.” Alice slipped the phone back into her pocket, praying it wouldn’t vibrate with a call for at least a few minutes. They had to strategize. “If we want to fend him off, the only thing he’ll respect is other—better—plans. So we need to figure out something to do with our Friday night, and fast.”
“Forgive me, I don’t know Nick as well as the rest of you, but couldn’t you just tell him no?” Chad asked.
The rest of the room looked at each other sheepishly, not quite certain how to explain things. Finally, Vince gave up all hope of finding the right words and just plowed forward as only he could. “We’ve tried that. Lots of times, in fact. Someh
ow, it just never seems to work. I don’t know if it’s how relentless he is or if he just tricks us into it, but way more often than not we start off objecting and end up watching beheaded scarecrow goblins battle rugged townsfolk anyway.”
Chad tilted his head slightly, a small gesture they’d learned to interpret as surprise. “That example is hypothetical, I assume?”
“I wish,” Mary muttered darkly. “It’s the Headless Corn Goblin franchise, and so far, he’s made us watch four out of the eleven films.”
“Twelve,” Roy corrected. The uncertain stares leveled his way drew out a stammering explanation without request. “Um, Hershel… noticed they put a new one out last month. By accident. Just happened to see an ad.”
“So there are twelve of these films,” Chad surmised, mercifully breezing over Roy’s half-hearted deception. “Perhaps Alice is right. A counter-strategy might indeed be in order.”
“Start tossing out those ideas, people,” Alice demanded. “By my count, we’ve got less than an hour until Nick makes his move.”
20.
Nick strode up to Melbrook Hall with his backpack slung neatly over a single shoulder. Inside was a selection of some of the schlockiest cinema ever recorded on DVD. By now, they’d all be out of class, no doubt planning to piss their few free days away on something like training or studying. It was his solemn duty as their friend to make sure they didn’t waste this opportunity to rot their minds and rest their bodies. Plus, it did give him a bit of a thrill hearing them groan at the pathetic attempts at special effects that permeated his movies.
Pressing the doorbell, Nick heard the expected footsteps hurrying forward to let him in—most likely Vince, whose sense of decency demanded he not leave guests waiting outside. Coming by Melbrook wasn’t the sort of thing Nick liked to make a habit of, even if he had spent the first part of last year laying the cover story for why he was friends with the others again. They were watched too closely, and it put him on edge to be in the heart of their surveillance. Still, that was exactly why he’d made a point of swinging by on occasion. If he showed fear, he showed knowledge, and that really would pique the wrong people’s attention.
