by Hayes, Drew
“I wouldn’t—” Vince cut himself off. What was he going to say? That he’d never lose control like that? There was a tape proving exactly otherwise and a super-speed crook who’d nearly been murdered by Vince’s own hand. Denying his potential for anger was pointless. They both knew it was there, and no matter how hard Vince worked to master self-control, he wasn’t sure he could ever say without question that it wouldn’t come out again. But because of that doubt, he was watchful with himself, more so than when he’d tried to deny the potential for such fury existed.
After a deep breath of the chilly air, Vince started again. “I’m not perfect. You’re right, Mr. Chapman. I might make a mistake one day. I don’t want to. I’m training so hard, both my body in the gym and my mind in therapy to avoid that, but there are no guarantees. If you don’t trust me because you think one day I might slip up and cost people their lives, then there is nothing I can say to change your mind. It’s a terrifying thought, because no one is immune to making a mistake. The idea scares me too. But if you don’t trust me because you think I’m not aware of the destruction I could cause, the people I could hurt, or that I’d ever intend to use my power recklessly, then let me assure you that’s not the case. No one knows how dangerous I am better than I do. No one takes the threat I present more seriously than I do. One day, something like this might be my handiwork. I can’t promise you it won’t be. All I can say is that I’m doing everything I can to make sure it never comes to that.”
“Not everything,” Ralph replied. “You could walk away from the Hero game; take that power of yours out of play. Knowing your history of losing control, one could argue that it’s the right thing to do.”
Vince stared out at the bridge, burning the image into his mind. It was something he needed to remember, to carry with him as ammunition for the next time he felt his anger overwhelming his common sense. “Except it isn’t the right thing to do. I can’t sit on the sidelines, knowing I have the strength to help people. It’s not how my father raised me, and it’s not the kind of man I’d ever want to be. If I saw people in need, I would help. I’d just be doing it with less training and self-control, which makes me more of a threat. I will make you a promise though, Mr. Chapman.”
Finally, Vince looked away from the bridge, turning to meet the curious eyes of the DVA agent who had been such a pain for the past year and a half. “If I ever do make a mistake like this, if I ever lose control and needlessly cost someone else their family, I’ll turn myself over to you and make a full confession. No one can promise they won’t make mistakes, but I swear to you I’ll always own mine. That’s the best I can do.”
“That’s better than most, if you mean it,” Ralph said.
“He does.” Mary’s voice carried from several feet away, causing a confused look to ripple across the teleporter’s face. They were too far out to overhear the conversation, but that was no hindrance to a telepath.
Ralph considered Vince carefully, searching his face for signs of falsehood in spite of Mary’s assurance. “By virtue of my job, I doubt we’ll ever see one another as allies, Vince. But if you hold true to that promise, I don’t think we need to be enemies.”
“I will.” Vince paused, eyes darting back to the bridge. “What happened to Raze? Did he stand trial for this?”
The earnest expression on Ralph’s face darkened for a flicker of a moment. “No. His Hero Certification was revoked, but he managed to slip out of criminal charges thanks to having been in the Class of Legends. Kept right on claiming he was innocent, too. Eventually, he showed his true colors; they caught him red-handed using his power to dissolve a gold depository’s walls and he went on the run. That’s the trouble with Supers, you see. They spend so much time above the laws of nature, they start to think they’re beyond the laws of man, too.”
“One day, if I make it past graduation and you manage to run Raze down, I’ll help you bring him to justice,” Vince said. “I owe you that much, for helping us last May.”
A gust of wind blew past them, ruffling Vince’s silver hair. When it faded, Ralph motioned for Mary and the DVA teleporter to come join them. “You’re a good guy, Vince. Just never forget that good intentions don’t excuse bad outcomes. Be better than the Heroes who came before you. Be accountable.”
171.
The first day back in the HCP was bustling with activity as the underground halls filled with black, gray, and white uniforms. There were fewer of the black ones, as the first semester’s traditional weeding out of the freshmen had severely chopped down the crop of potential Heroes, but they seemed to take up just as much space with their enthusiasm. It was hard for any of the older students to blame them; they remembered how exciting it was to come back after making it through the first major cut. In the chaos of the halls, Roy was pleased to see Ashley’s face—oddly tan for coming back from Winter Break—still present among the black uniforms. She’d gotten past her first major hurdle, and he felt a small swell of pride at the idea that his training may have helped get her there.
He worked to hold on to that feeling as he made his way into the gym, where Roy was unsurprised to find Dean Blaine awaiting them. After a test as intricate and carefully constructed as the end-of-semester trial, there was no way there wouldn’t be some sort of review. If they were lucky, maybe the rankings had even shifted, although there was no chalkboard present so Roy kept his hopes for such a thing constrained. Instead, he fell into the usual half-circle the students always formed when Dean Blaine was present and waited patiently.
“Students,” Dean Blaine said, bringing the entire class’s attention to him with a single word. “I’m sure you’re all curious as to why I’m here, and I won’t keep you in suspense. Today marks a significant moment in your Hero Certification training. This is, as you know, the home stretch. You have all done the incredible—the nigh-impossible, really—by making it this far in a program designed to test every facet of your being. Each and every one of you should feel beyond proud to be standing here today; yet even as I say these words, I know this isn’t enough for any of you. If it were, you would never have made it this far to begin with. All of you want to reach the final goal, the White Cape Ceremony, graduation, and Hero careers beyond these halls. Or at least, most of you do. Before we continue, there is an elephant in the room to address, something I assume you’ve all taken note of already: Mary Smith is not here today. She has elected to leave the Hero Certification Program.”
The room didn’t exactly fill with gasps, but Roy did note more than a few shocked looks, many of which were directed his way. Hershel was still figuring out how he felt about Mary quitting, though Roy personally agreed with her on that call. This wasn’t easy work, and if she didn’t think she could handle the strain, better she walk away before it tore her up inside. Being connected to the Hero world through Titan, Roy and Hershel had both seen the sleepless eyes and twitching reactions of Heroes who’d spent a long time in the field.
“Ms. Smith’s decision, while I’m sure puzzling to many of you, is the right one for her. And I want to take this moment to remind all of you that it is not cowardice to turn from a path you know in your heart is wrong for you; it is rather a sign of great bravery. I love the Hero world, and I value my time spent in it, but under no circumstances would I say it is an easy life, nor one meant for every Super. If you’re ever having doubts or questions about what it entails, then feel free to talk to your professors, or Dr. Moran, or me. We will always speak truthfully with you about what lies ahead. However, since I suspect none of you plan to drop out here and now, perhaps it’s best to move on to what the remainder of the year entails.”
Surprise was replaced by curiosity as the others quickly accepted Mary’s departure and moved on to the next topic. If there was one thing that could be said about HCP training, it did a stellar job of teaching the students not to dwell too long on things outside their scope of control. They focused on what they could affect, things they could impact, and took the rest as it c
ame.
“Little will change in your day-to-day routine for these final months,” Dean Blaine continued. “There will still be the monthly trials, and your training is still largely meant to be self-directed. Some of you have flourished when allowed to control your progress; others have fallen behind the crowd. If you are in the latter group, I urge you to take a hard look at what you’re doing and see if perhaps there aren’t better ways to improve. Outside of the day-to-day, however, there will be some other events you’ll need to be ready for. First and foremost: it is time to begin applying for internships.”
A soft murmur rippled through the students, one Dean Blaine silenced with a stern expression. “I’m aware that none of you know for certain who will graduate, but it hardly makes sense to scramble at the last moment, so existing Heroes begin offering and accepting conditional internships as of this point. If you graduate, you’ll learn under them, and if you fail to make the cut then they’ll look again next year. For those of you with specific Heroes you’ve met from whom you would like to learn, now is the time to reach out to them. There is a formal request system, though you’ll probably want to talk with them before going that route to confirm they are indeed interested. Some of you will receive offers within the next week, as Heroes can now formally present them. If you haven’t found a Hero yet who you think will make a good mentor, have no fear. The post-trial mixers will continue, and as I’ve said, there are Heroes who will take any applicants if you can’t find one you connect with. Everyone who graduates will have a mentor, but if you want someone specific, now is the time to be proactive.”
Dean Blaine paused here, allowing the students a few minutes to mull over the task he’d set before them. Roy wasn’t sure who he’d be reaching out to; there had been a lot of fine Heroes at the mixers, but none who seemed like a perfect match. Hell, it had taken him half the year just to think of a name, now he had to decide who to learn under? Maybe someone would make him an offer and take the issue off his plate. So long as it was someone decent, there was probably no reason to overthink it. He just hoped Hershel was on the same page.
“Aside from that, most of the other events are less immediate.” Dean Blaine had started once more, apparently deciding that had been enough time for everyone to sort themselves out. “You’ll be meeting with agents toward the end of the year—there is, of course, a final examination you’ll need to pass as we narrow down the candidates for graduation—and you’ll be talking to DVA representatives occasionally to better understand the relationship between their department and Heroes. But there is one issue that is more pressing, and it’s one I warned you about at the start of the year—a competition that comes near the end of this semester. Obviously contestants must be locked in place well before then. The time has come, senior class, to decide who will represent Lander in the grand battle we know as Intramurals.”
172.
A hand shot up before Dean Blaine’s voice had finished echoing through the gym. He nodded to its owner, Rich Weaver, to proceed.
“Aren’t we going to get the new rankings first?”
“Do you need them?” It was immediately clear that not only had Dean Blaine been ready for this question, he’d been expecting it. A hint of a smirk appeared on his lips as he looked from Rich to the rest of the students one by one. “As I just told you, your time in the HCP is nearing its end. When that final day arrives, assuming you make the cut, you’re going to need to adjust to a new world—one where a group of teachers won’t be carefully analyzing the skill level of you, your teammates, and your opponents in advance. Sometimes the DVA will have intel, but keep in mind that you are the first line of defense. That often means evaluating the potential danger of a new Super on the fly, as well as keeping a constant understanding of your own skills and abilities. If you’d like to see the new rankings before you make your call, I’ll have them brought out right now. But if you’d like to use this opportunity to test and hone your own collective evaluation skills, I certainly won’t stop you.”
The smirk vanished into a placid smile as Dean Blaine grew silent. Nobody needed to be a telepath—not that it would have worked on him, anyway—to know which of the options they were supposed to choose. An HCP education was more or less built on taking the hardest path possible at all times. However, another hand did go up, this one smaller and reaching a lower height than Rich’s had.
“Yes, Ms. Belden?”
“Can we get the results later? I mean, if we don’t take them now, but hit an impasse in making a decision, can we bring them in as new data to help break up disagreements? Or is this a one-time only chance?” Camille asked.
Dean Blaine’s smile grew a little less placid and a touch more impressed for a moment. “The results are yours; you may call for them whenever you like.”
“Okay, so we should at least talk it over and see what we come up with on our own first, right?” Alex broke the ice among the class, speaking to his fellow students rather than Dean Blaine. “I mean, I think we all know at least one pick right off the bat. We’ve got to send Chad.”
Eyes darted over to the blond student, who opened his mouth quickly. “My performance in the last trial was subpar, and I suspect it has devalued my overall ranking. You may wish to recon—”
“Nope, fuck that.” Shane cut his friend off, holding up his hand in the air. “I think we’ve all lost enough matches to you not to make a production out of this. All in favor of Chad representing Lander, and showing what our class is made of, raise a hand.”
Every student hand in the gym rose—even Dean Blaine had to resist the urge to lift his arm. Shane had hit the point perfectly; they’d been fighting Chad for their entire HCP careers and each of his classmates knew how powerful he was. More than that, though, they understood the depths of his resolve. If someone was going to fight for the pride of Lander, there was no doubt that Chad would be the top choice.
“So, that’s one of… three, wasn’t it?” Alice said.
“Four,” Dean Blaine corrected. “Lander has been selected to host again this year, due to various security circumstances. As such, we will be afforded a fourth slot.”
“I would have said Mary was a shoe-in too, but with her gone this gets a little more difficult.” Violet looked around the half-circle, eyeing her friends, acquaintances, and adversaries with an appraising eye. It didn’t matter who she liked; it didn’t matter who might prefer the visibility of being on such a grand stage. The only question she had to determine was who could win. “Given that Alice not only scored the most points but also lasted the longest in our trial, I think she should be put up for consideration.”
“But she’s a Subtlety major,” Amber protested.
“A Subtlety major with a phenomenal power, expert control, and a sharp mind.” Thomas locked eyes with Alice as he spoke, not an ounce of malice in them for his loss. All that shone on his face was respect for his opponent and fellow Lander student. “Violet is right. Regardless of major, the power to wield gravity is not something to be underestimated.”
There was a ripple of murmurs that ran through the crowd as they pondered Thomas and Violet’s suggestion. Will Murray was the one who turned it into action, however. Silently, he lifted his hand into the air, a clear vote for Alice to join the ranks of the Intramural team. The other students soon followed suit, lifting their arms into the air to signal approval. Rich and Amber were the last two hold-outs, though eventually seeing a sea of lifted hands spurred them to raise their own.
“Two out of four slots filled,” Dean Blaine noted.
“Before we cram those full, I’d like to nominate myself.” No one was particularly surprised to hear Amber put herself into consideration; from the way her eyes were darting about it was plain she’d been hoping someone else would toss her name into the hat.
“Amber makes a good point,” Alice said. Now that she was no longer in contention, she stepped forward to assume a judicial role in the process. “I’m fine with going, and I think we all kn
ow Chad never says no to a fight, but instead of picking from the whole class, we should narrow it down to the people who actually want to take on this kind of task. Dean Blaine, am I right that Intramurals are pretty taxing?”
“Extremely so. You’ll be fighting against the very best the other HCP schools have to offer, in front of other teachers, existing Heroes, and people with enough clout to garner invitations. It is something I would encourage every participant to treat with the utmost—forgive the word choice—gravity.” Dean Blaine didn’t really look too apologetic about the pun, but he kept a mostly straight face anyway.
Alice nodded then looked at the class. “Let’s narrow this down and make it easier on ourselves then. Everyone who wants to go to Intramurals, line up next to Amber. Everyone else, come over to me. Once we know the volunteers, it should be easier to pick our other two competitors.”
173.
Vince was on his way toward Alice when he felt a strong hand grab his shoulder. He turned to find Roy looking at him, a stern expression on his normally cheerful face.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Over to the side.” Vince tilted his head in the direction of Alice, in case Roy hadn’t taken the meaning.
“Oh hell no. You think you can beat the shit out of me like that and then just walk away from the big show? Vince, if nothing else you proved during that trial that you’re one of our top fighters, someone not to be fucked with lightly. You belong in that line, next to me, up for consideration.”
Vince glanced over to where Shane, Amber, and Thomas were already grouped up. “My power is dangerous, Roy. Probably not the best for sparring.”
“Ain’t that why you spent all winter working on control?” Roy released his grip on Vince’s shoulder and put his hand down. “Listen, whatever is waiting for us out there, it’s not going to be easier than anything we face in here. You want to wait until the stakes are real, or do you want to use every last training and practice opportunity the HCP provides? You were careful in our fight; I think you can handle this. But it ain’t my place to force you if you don’t believe that.”
