by Hayes, Drew
Vacant as it looked, Mary still scanned the area telepathically, just in case there were unseen presences hidden in some shadowy nook. She came up empty. The only thoughts in the building seemed to be Ralph’s, the bartender’s, and a busboy in the back who was worried about making this month’s rent. She eased into the opposite side of the booth from Ralph Chapman, who was drinking a lemonade.
“Can I get you anything?”
“I don’t suppose they have tea here, do they?” Mary asked.
“Just the iced kind. But they do make a mean lemonade.” He leaned out of the booth and motioned to the bartender, tapping on his glass to signal another round was needed.
“If it’s alcoholic, you’ll be drinking that yourself,” Mary warned him.
“Not a drop,” Ralph assured her. “I’m like you, Ms. Smith. I prefer to keep a clear head about me. It’s an important trait in this line of work.”
“The line of work that involves illegally coercing off-the-books meetings with students who are supposedly under your care?” Mary could have played it more aloof—she was sure that was what Nick or Alice would have done—but she didn’t have their tolerance for bullshit. Ralph might be able to compel her to show up here, but that didn’t mean she had to be nice or pretend this was anything other than the forced meeting it was.
“Fair enough. I’m playing loose with the rules, and you don’t like it. Hard to begrudge you that. And I’m sure that neither you nor your friends nor your professors have ever taken actions that fell outside the rules. Otherwise, I can’t imagine you’d be sitting quite so easily on that high horse of yours.”
Mary didn’t think she let his jab show on her face, but Ralph Chapman smiled like he’d just glimpsed what he was looking for. “If I could prove even half the things I know have happened, this would be a very different conversation, but we both know you’re all too clever for that. So instead, just try to appreciate what it’s like to be on the other side of the equation for a change.”
“You wanted to talk to me about Globe.” Mary didn’t have a comeback for his accusation; her mind was flooded with all the semi- to totally illegal activities they’d undertaken over the years, from secret dream conversations with Globe to reviving Nick’s memories and all the smaller stuff in between.
“Maybe a little bit.” Ralph Chapman paused as the bartender walked over and set a fresh glass of lemonade in front of Mary. “Mostly I wanted to ask if you have any guesses as to why he tried to abduct you once and only once. You probably don’t know this, but Globe was a tenacious Hero, never the sort to easily give up on something once he’d set his mind to it. Yet, after one failed attempt, he’s left you completely unperturbed. Even stranger is the fact that you are the one he wanted in the first place, when his son was living in the same dorm.”
Mary tried a sip of her drink. It was good, if a bit tart for her tastes. “There’s not a week that goes by I don’t ask myself some of those same questions. I’ve tried my hardest to figure things out, and eventually, I had to accept that I just don’t see enough of the board.”
“The board?”
“I like chess, Mr. Chapman,” Mary explained. “But right now, all I can see are the few pieces around me. I don’t know what Globe is doing or what moves he’s making, so I can’t make sense out of the few actions I glimpse. Truthfully, I don’t even know if he’s playing the same game as the rest of us.”
“That is… well put,” Ralph agreed after a brief pause. “None of us have any idea of what Globe is after, which makes him all the more dangerous. He has incredible power and a gift for leading others. When he strikes, it will be hard and ferocious, and I’d very much like to have any bit of warning I can manage to glean. So, again, I ask not for well-thought out ideas or provable points: do you have any guesses at why he may have taken you?”
“Nothing I’d want to share.” Mary stared at the DVA agent, stone-faced. She’d taken the meeting, and she’d answered the questions she could. Compelling random speculation out of her seemed like more than he could demand, and she wanted to set boundaries in this conversation. He needed to know that he didn’t have all the power in this booth.
Ralph seemed to take the message, draining the rest of his lemonade and then motioning to the barkeep for another. “Ms. Smith, I’m keenly aware that all of you think of me as the bad guy. I’m not part of the club, I’ll never understand the job, yet I’m the one who determines whether or not you’ve done it well. You don’t have to like me or the existence of my department, but I think you, out of everyone in your peer group, should be able to understand that we are necessary. You can see into people’s minds, the best and worst of them. Do you really want to live in a world where Supers have no checks or balances? Where Heroes are free to enforce the law as they wish without oversight?”
“I know the DVA is necessary,” Mary replied. “But you’ve been gunning for Vince since the moment you stepped foot on campus. That’s not part of your job; that’s personal. And he’s never done a thing to you or anyone else.”
“Yet.” Ralph’s face darkened for a moment, and his composure slipped. Mary picked up a few scattered thoughts whirling through his brain before he got it under control: something about a bridge, and mistakes, and a white-hot core of fury buried beneath all the platitudes and red tape. Then it was gone, replaced by milquetoast thoughts about the weather. “Mr. Reynolds is a fine young man with a good heart; I’m not going to debate that with you. But he lets his emotions overtake him more than is wise or prudent. I’ve seen what happened in your sophomore year, and I’ve read the reports from May’s incident. Did you know he almost killed a man in cold blood?”
She did. Vince had been tormented by thoughts of that moment almost as much as his memory of Sasha’s corpse. It had made the first few weeks of summer so morose that sometimes she had turned off her telepathy entirely. “He made the right choice in the end, and I don’t blame him a bit for being tempted. ‘Almost’ doesn’t count.”
“Until the day it does,” Ralph Chapman countered. “I don’t hate Vince Reynolds. I don’t hate any Super or Hero. I hate what they can do, what people will let them do because love and camaraderie and friendship cloud their judgment. I don’t have that luxury. I’m not in this business to be liked; I’m in it to get a job done.”
The bartender arrived with another drink, and Ralph handed over a small wad of bills. “If you want to know why I take the threat Vince poses so seriously, then I’ll show you. And him. Just call the number on the card I gave you and pick a day. We can even use your teleporter, so that I can’t pull a fast one.”
“Why would you do that?” Mary asked, struck by a rare moment of genuine confusion.
“Because while we may not all see eye-to-eye, we all do agree that Supers should work to keep people safe and make the world a better place, unlike what the Sons of Progress want to see happen,” Ralph told her. “We’re on the same side. If I want you all to realize that, it means I’m going to have to start showing you some trust.”
“Does that mean no more restaurant visits?”
“That was a bit of theatrics, Ms. Smith. Necessary to get a conversation started. But no more of them, regardless. If you want to talk, whether you think of something to tell me or to take me up on the offer, just call the number on the card or stop by my office,” Ralph told her.
Mary stood to leave, fully intent on walking out the door without so much as a glance back. Except… he was right. They—the DVA and the Heroes—were on the same side. And when push had come to shove, Ralph Chapman had remembered that, legally protecting the students so that they could go forth and do good.
“I have one guess, and it’s barely even that,” Mary said. “I don’t know what Globe is planning, but if he needed someone to work with him at Lander, I might have been the easiest person to convince to join him.”
“And why is that?”
“Because if what he was doing was good, then I could have listened to his thoughts and b
elieved him. Not saying it would have worked, just that it might be what he was thinking,” Mary explained. “I doubt it helps much.”
“We won’t know until things are fully settled,” Ralph Chapman replied. “But thank you, Ms. Smith. For your time and your candor.”
54.
Vince waited patiently as Chad and Alex talked outside the cell. He didn’t know what they were saying, but the general subject matter was certainly how Alex was supposed to bring Vince down. It was strange to stand idle while someone was supposedly being handed the methods to his defeat, yet, Vince oddly found himself more excited than worried by the prospect. If Chad was right, this would end with a better understanding of his abilities and what he should be working on. That sort of growth wasn’t usually pleasant, but it was necessary in an environment like this one.
The door opened to reveal Chad and Alex, who entered. The blond Super nodded up toward the observation window. “Just for documentation that this is a match between you and Alex, and that I am only here in a consulting role, I asked Professor Fletcher to oversee us.”
“Keep it civil. I’d rather not have to come down there.” Professor Fletcher’s voice crackled over the intercom, causing both Vince and Alex to give polite waves to their teacher.
“Now then, this will be a simple sparring session, so breaks and pauses are perfectly allowed,” Chad continued. “This is not a match, merely a training exercise. That said: Vince, when it begins, I would like you to attack Alex seriously, as if you are going for a win. You need to be giving it your best to understand the flaw in your techniques.”
“Alex, can you handle that?” Vince asked.
Alex grinned, adjusting something tucked into his pockets, and gave an enthusiastic nod. “Seeing as I can block energy attacks, I was going to ask you the same question.”
“Okay then, but I’m going for just a knock-out,” Vince replied.
“That will suffice.” Chad walked over to the edge of the room, exchanging a long look with Alex. “The fight begins now.”
Vince didn’t waste any time, gathering a blast of electricity in his hand and aiming it at Alex. Normally he might have given his sparring opponent a little more time to brace, but Chad had told him to take it seriously, and he was here to learn. If they wanted him fighting for real, then that was what they would get.
The lightning danced in his hand as Vince fired, a crackle slicing through the air that was quickly joined by an unexpected scream of pain from Vince’s lips.
The shot went wide as he collapsed to one leg. He stared in shock at the small blade sticking out of his knee, still quivering with force from the throw. He looked up to find several more identical blades floating near Alex, who seemed ready to use them at the first sign of aggression.
“That is your weakness, Vince. It’s the same one almost every absorber has to deal with. Your power is either offensive or defensive, but it’s never both.” Chad pulled open the door and motioned for Jada, who came in and went a bit pale when she saw the blade in Vince’s knee. Quickly jerking it out, she healed him.
Vince let out a long sigh of relief as the pain faded. “Okay,” he said, watching as Jada headed out to check on other sparring students, “I can see how that would work for a telekin—sorry, Alex—for anyone who can move things with their mind.”
“Do you think I’d be unable to make such a throw?” Chad asked. “Or that other powers couldn’t be used to strike while you attack?”
“But you use your abilities for offense and defense.” Vince made to rise, which led Alex to come over and offer an arm in assistance. Vince pulled himself up slowly, testing his leg and leaning on Alex. It bore the weight fine, with no sign of any injury.
“Our powers are very different,” Chad told him. “Ones like mine and Roy’s are akin to a suit of armor. They protect our bodies, while also causing harm to those we strike with them. Alex’s is more like a sword and shield. He can use it to strike and defend at the same time. But yours is different. You can only ever be expelling or absorbing energy. You have a mighty shield or a powerful sword; however, you cannot wield both at once.”
Chad was right; Vince couldn’t absorb and blast at the same time. Even at his most potent, during the rage-induced hallucination sophomore year, he’d had to drop the lightning and fire whenever he absorbed another student’s attacks. The only reason no one had ever tried such a simple tactic as the one Alex had used was probably because his attacks were so big and flashy; they drew people’s attention away from his vulnerable body.
Except… one person had used a similar technique, now that Vince thought about it.
“Shane cut my leg tendons when I tried to blast him in a fight,” Vince recalled. “It was just like what Alex did; he waited until I was vulnerable then struck.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Shane is easily as good as I, if not better, in assessing an opponent’s weaknesses,” Chad said.
“Okay, so let’s try this the other way around.” Vince looked to Alex. “New match?”
“Whenever you’re ready.” Alex headed back across the cell, and a moment later, Chad called out for them to begin.
This time, Vince didn’t go for the attack; instead, he watched Alex’s movements and those of the floating blades. One swirled around, trying to catch Vince from behind, but the summer’s training had honed his kinetic absorption reflexes. That blade was stuck pressing harmlessly against him. Alex looked dumbfounded, and Vince enjoyed a moment of triumph… until he realized he had no idea what to do next. He could charge Alex, though that would likely just get him tossed across the room. Whether it was telekinesis or the Force, Vince had never found a way to absorb whatever people like Alex and Mary used.
“Wow… this is tough,” Vince admitted. “I’m used to leaning on my power for attacks.”
“And perhaps that is what you should do,” Chad said. “Armor exists, and if you can focus through the pain, then there are precious few Supers out there who could withstand your attacks. Alternately, if you can master your hand-to-hand skill or pick up a weapon, you’d be nearly impossible for most Supers to stop before you could get to them. And switching off on occasion or in dire need is certainly going to be useful. But you can’t lean on your power for offense and defense at the same time—that spreads it too thin, beyond your abilities. You’d be far stronger if you picked the sword or the shield, and then used your other skills or tools to compensate on the other side.”
“You said almost all absorbers have to switch off, didn’t you?” Vince asked. “Is there a chance I’m one of the few who can do both?”
“Anything is possible,” Chad told him. “However, to my knowledge, those types are very rare. And I suspect you’d have shown signs of the ability by now, if that were the case.”
“Crap. I was sort of hoping I’d get lucky.” Vince nodded to Alex for a pause. The blade floated harmlessly away from him, back to where the others hovered around Alex’s head.
“Vince, you have the ability to absorb more types of energy than anyone I’ve ever heard of, and your storage capacity is incredible. There are countless absorbers who would kill to have the gifts you’ve been given,” Chad reminded him. “I have no doubt you’ll find a way to work past this weakness and come out the other side far stronger. And when you do, I hope I have a chance to test myself against you.”
“Maybe one day,” Vince agreed. “If we both graduate, and it’s not such a big deal anymore.”
Chad smiled, a touch too wide to conceal his hunger for the bout. “I look forward to it.”
55.
Despite the strange new self-directed training regimen and monthly tests, the Lander seniors slowly fell into habit with their new schedule, as they did every year. September’s exam passed without significant incident: this round pitted them together in teams to hunt down a few Sims representing high-damage criminal Supers. Soon, the air turned chilly as October made its arrival known.
While people were bundling up outdoor
s, inside the newly reopened Six-Shooter, coats were tossed aside and forgotten as the constant crush of bodies and ample alcohol left everyone warmer than the inside of a toaster.
Roy looked out happily on the sea of college students from his position at the sidebar. Roger had offered to move him and Chad to the main area since they were now among his more senior staff, but the duo had elected to continue running their own smaller section by themselves. Between Chad’s efficiency and Roy’s charm, they churned through nearly as many customers as the bigger spaces, and they didn’t have to worry about any of the newer kids getting in their way.
Roy had been seriously concerned that an explosion going off inside the club would have kept people away after it reopened. He, Chad, and Alice would be fine—there were always other service jobs out there to fill—but Roger was a good man who didn’t deserve to have his livelihood fall apart.
That concern turned out to be utterly unfounded. If anything, Six-Shooter was busier than it had ever been before. These were the students who’d come back to Lander after the Sons of Progress attack. Anyone who scared easily—or rationally—was long gone from the college, which meant that this group was the sort to spit in the eye of people trying to drive them away. It was a sentiment that Roy appreciated so much that he poured the drinks a little heavier, at least at the beginning of the night.
“Holy crap. These new girls are way better than I was when I started.” Alice plopped into a vacant seat and set down an empty bottle of well whiskey, which Chad immediately took away and replaced with a full one. The shots were clearly flowing freely tonight.
