Super Powereds: Year 4

by Hayes, Drew

  With that, Dr. Moran was up and out the door, a handful of bills left on the table to pay for her drink. Mary stared at the cash for a few seconds before getting back to her studies. Probably best to work ahead while she could.

  It seemed her leisure time would soon be coming to an end once more.

  183.

  The first trial of the new semester went surprisingly smoothly. Dean Blaine was braced for some manner of upset; they weren’t uncommon when students came back from a month without training. He soon realized he should have known better than to expect this class to slack off. Whether it was their unusually high degree of power or the fact that they’d seen real combat, this was indeed the Class of Nightmares. For better or worse, the name had stuck and was being bandied about inside the observation room freely, no longer a mere whisper on the tongues of the watching Heroes. Given half a chance, Dean Blaine would still have squashed the term; he knew too well the perils that accompanied graduating from a class infamous enough for a nickname. Unfortunately, it was far too wide-spread for him to impact its spread in any way. All he could do now was train the eponymous nightmares to bear the weight of such expectations.

  It wasn’t an especially unique battle; generally, this trial was a chance to ease people back into the rhythm of combat, which meant another pseudo-city with Sims spread throughout. They were still using the human-like Sims, and would do so for the remainder of the year. The students needed to grow accustomed to attacking human targets, wounding people who would yelp in pain, and even taking life when needed. Cruel as it seemed, they had to form emotional calluses on those fronts lest they hesitate in the field. Dean Blaine had always been of the opinion that life should never be taken lightly; however, when the moment demanded such action, there was zero nobility in freezing up. In those moments, someone was usually about to die: the only question was whether it would be the criminal, a Hero, or an innocent bystander.

  As Dean Blaine watched the fight unfold on the monitors, he paid special attention to the screens showing Vince Reynolds. To his relief, Vince hadn’t entered the fray blasting like a cannon. It had been a small fear, admittedly, but sometimes students who increased their damage potential couldn’t quite help showing off their new skills, even when it wasn’t appropriate. Vince, thankfully, was showing better judgment than that, using only as much power as any opponent demanded, dropping them one after another. If anything, he was injuring without killing far more appropriately than he had been before Lander East. Anyone with experience training these kids could tell he’d grown more comfortable with his ability, and from the whispers around the room, the other Heroes were certainly taking notice.

  A smattering of applause filled the air; Dean Blaine jerked his eyes to another monitor to see what had caused it. The source wasn’t hard to find. Across the battlefield, Roy Daniels was taking attacks from three different Sims while the rest of his temporary team moved civilians out of harm’s way. Glancing toward the ground, Dean Blaine saw the scraps of a fourth attacker that had apparently gotten a little too close to Roy and his bat. Taking that kind of abuse was impressive enough, but the real cherry was Roy using himself as both a blockade and a distraction so seamlessly. Despite his power, Roy had always seemed to function alongside a team rather than as part of one. Apparently, Hershel’s influence was helping in more than just straightforward combat.

  Even so, Roy’s new discernment wasn’t the biggest surprise on the field. It was impossible to say whether the change had come from learning the truth about her family or gaining confidence from their end of semester trial, but Alice was showing a whole new side to herself. Minutes after landing she’d taken charge of a small unit consisting of herself, Alex, Thomas, and Violet, leading them across the battlefield and ambushing groups of unprepared Sims. The sneakiness was hardly new – she did excel at Subtlety, after all – but Alice was rarely one to take charge to such a degree. Between this showing and the way she’d run the Intramurals selection process, Dean Blaine had to admit Alice was beginning to display a true talent for leadership. Although she would have hated to hear it, the gift was one her father held as well.

  On another screen, Shane cut the muscles of two Sims while Chad sliced the spine of another. They were working as a two-man team today and were leaving a trail of crippled Sims in their wake. It might have been Dean Blaine’s imagination, but there seemed to be a bit more edge to Shane’s attacks this time around. Perhaps he felt compelled to prove himself as a worthy Intramurals candidate or demonstrate that it wasn’t a fluke he’d overtaken Chad for the top spot. Whatever it was, Shane was striking faster and harder without losing his accuracy, so Dean Blaine hoped the trend continued.

  It was a good fight; everyone was showing growth with relatively few mistakes, despite their time away. Dean Blaine was just starting to feel at ease when the entire room erupted in whispers. His eyes darted between the screens, looking to and fro as he searched for what had caused such a commotion. It didn’t take long for him to realize he was looking in the wrong direction, though. Following the eyes of the other Heroes, he turned to the rear of the room where an elderly man had stepped through the door. The gentleman looked good, much better than he had the last time Dean Blaine saw him. Not just better, younger. He’d ditched his cane and moved with the confident gait of a man fully aware of exactly where each next step would land.

  “Mr. DeSoto, always a pleasure,” Dean Blaine said. He shook Graham DeSoto’s hand, noting the renewed strength in his grip with a barely suppressed grin. No matter how jaded Dean Blaine got to the life and the job, there was still something awing about talking with the world’s first Hero.

  “You as well,” Graham replied. “Sorry about the commotion. I guess a few of them recognized me and spread the word.”

  “It’s perfectly all right. I’m sure these trained, experienced Heroes have enough self-control to keep watching the students and wait until the mixer to greet you.” Dean Blaine raised his voice during the last bit, making sure everyone looking at Graham instead of the screen heard him.

  “About that: when the trial is done, I’d like a few minutes with you before the mixer. Just some things we need to talk over in private.”

  Nothing in Graham’s expression betrayed that this would be a bad talk, but that was of little comfort to Dean Blaine. Of course Captain Starlight would know how to keep a stoic face in front of a crowd. There was nothing to do for it, though. If Graham had come to talk, he had good reason for it. Dean Blaine would just have to hope it was about something positive; he felt the universe owed him some good news after everything the past year had brought him.

  “No problem at all. We’ll adjourn to my office after the match.” Dean Blaine turned to the monitors once more, not quite able to resist adding one last thing. “You look great, by the way. Casper does exceptional work.”

  “He does indeed,” Graham said. “Pity the man is such an ass.”

  “Casper… well yes, he is an ass. But he wasn’t always. You know the toll this life can take.”

  “Better than nearly anyone else.” Graham was looking up at the screen with Shane on it, watching every move his grandson made. “That’s part of why I’ve come to see you today, Blaine. I think it’s time we shook things up.”

  184.

  “So, they made it official?” Dean Blaine almost, almost offered the seat behind his desk to Graham DeSoto. It felt wrong to put Captain Starlight in one of the lesser chairs meant for guests, no matter how comfortable the upholstery was. But he wasn’t just Captain Starlight anymore, and it was important to establish boundaries early on. As an HCP dean, Blaine was in the employ of the DVA; however, that didn’t mean he’d roll over on every issue, even for someone like Graham.

  “Last confirmation hearing happened a few weeks ago,” Graham replied, voicing no complaint as he took one of the chairs facing the desk Dean Blaine indicated for him. “Would have been done months prior if not for all the pushback. Seems a lot of the DVA’s higher-ups had
serious qualms about making a former Hero the head of their organization.”

  “A former Hero with no political experience,” Dean Blaine added. He didn’t mean it as a slight, rather as a compliment. That Graham had forced his way into the position without a lifetime in the department made the accomplishment all the more amazing.

  Graham let out a resigned snort that briefly reminded Dean Blaine of Angela. “Is that how they’re framing it? Listen, I may not have been voted into office or nominated to a position before, but trust me when I say I spent a big chunk of my life immersed in politics. That’s most of what founding all of this–” He paused to motion to the room and the HCP base around them “–was about: politics. Getting people to see things my way, trading favors, occasionally playing hardball. I’ve got more than enough political experience for this gig, and the right people know it. I just made sure those right people took the ears of those in power.”

  Given that the man had managed to create (or at least help shape) the entire Hero infrastructure, Dean Blaine wasn’t terribly surprised that he still wielded such clout. Even if he hadn’t, there was always the weapon of public opinion. For all the tribulations that modern Supers and Heroes faced, Captain Starlight was a beloved figure in the nation’s history. If he wanted to get involved in something, it would be a damn fool who tried to stand against him in the public eye.

  “Well, congratulations on the new position. I have to say, it’s nice to have one of our own leading the DVA. Perhaps you’ll be able to do away with some of the more… archaic structures.” Dean Blaine could think of at least five things he’d change about the system on day one, although for some of them he’d need nearly unilateral power. Other things, like giving the HCP deans access to a freaking teleporter for travel, would be easier to implement.

  “Don’t expect me to overturn the apple cart right away,” Graham cautioned. “I’m one man in one position. Malcolm was on our side too, and he was only able to get so much accomplished. But you’re not wrong about things needing to be changed.”

  Graham looked down at his hands, weathered and strong hands that had knocked down countless criminal Supers and saved untold lives through the years. “When I helped build this system, I built the best one I could at the time. Compromises had to be made; there was no other way to get the Hero program off the ground. The world has changed a lot since back then. Things I didn’t imagine would be possible have slowly become commonplace. Supers wormed their way into all kinds of respectable, beloved positions. Corpies, EMTs, firefighters, athletes, we’re all over the place. And as much as that has helped normalize us in a lot of ways, it’s also served as a constant reminder to the mundane people of the world that anything they can do, we literally can do better. From a stance purely of what we’re capable of, humans are an inferior species to us.”

  While he resisted the urge to visibly react, Dean Blaine did check the switches under his desk to make sure the room was sealed off from outside listeners. Graham was saying things that every Super had thought, yet few ever spoke aloud. It was a taboo of survival: if humans ever got even the slightest whiff of an idea that Supers thought of themselves as superior, their world could turn very bloody, very fast. They’d seen it happen in other countries.

  “You’re uncomfortable.” Graham was looking him over, eyes sparkling with a drive that hadn’t been there last time the two met.

  “The new head of the DVA just openly stated that humans are inferior to Supers. I’m sure you can see how that might be problematic if the wrong people overheard you.”

  “Which is why I didn’t say it to any of them. Listen, Blaine, the old ways aren’t working anymore. We keep pretending things are okay, but they aren’t. I think you know that. The Hero system did the job it was designed for: it got the public comfortable with the existence of Supers and gave them people they knew they could trust. But the world is changing. I know you’re smart enough to see the rising tensions. If we don’t do something, I’m afraid eventually this whole system will collapse out from under us. That’s why I said we need a shake-up. We can’t keep using the system that was designed to work half a century ago. There need to be updates, new ideas, new programs.”

  “Are… are you proposing dismantling the Hero program?” Dean Blaine’s question hung in the air between the men, a slice down the room that, depending on Graham’s answer, might never be mended.

  Thankfully, he let out a laugh that turned into a cough midway through its lifespan and waved off the idea entirely. “God no, I’m not about to throw out the baby with the bathwater. You think I worked that hard just to start over? No, Blaine, I’m not saying we need to get rid of Heroes, but we do need to make things better. Even beyond the issues with humans, we’ve got too many of our brightest stars burning out or getting killed in the field. Not to mention that almost everyone walks away from the job with PTSD of some kind. Sure, we make therapists available, but I want to get ahead of the problems, start tackling issues that we, as former Heroes, know will come up before they have a chance to do so. Heroes have always been reactive by the nature of their jobs; as the DVA we can do better. We can be proactive.”

  The word choice didn’t escape Dean Blaine’s notice. “We?”

  “Yes, we. I do get some staff positions to fill,” Graham said. “And I was thinking of filling them with the Hero who had an amazingly low mortality record, the educator who trained up what is inarguably one of the strongest classes in some time, and the man who showed enough kindness to take in the world’s first rehabilitated Powereds into his program. Lucky for me, they’re all the same guy, which means he only takes one spot. What do you say, Blaine? Do you want to go from shaping young minds to shaping the entire Hero program?”

  185.

  Roy should have been feeling on top of the world. Not only had he managed to fend off the attacks of four Sims while the others got civilians to safety, he’d only killed one of them in the submission process. Given that the Sim in question was taking aim at numerous innocent targets, he felt like it was probably a forgivable kill at that. Part of him worried about how he’d feel when it was a real person’s life he had to take, but that wasn’t the issue nagging at him as he walked into the post-trial mixer with the others. No, today the issue was a seven-foot-tall muscular beast of a man who was standing on the other side of the room.

  It seemed like Titan was always at these things, even when he didn’t show to the mixer Mr. Transport made sure to tell his sons he’d watched the trials, which was a little surprising once Roy thought about it. He was working as a Hero again: free time should be a precious commodity, yet without fail he kept showing up here. Mostly he stood around, occasionally talking to a student, though by this point he’d more or less shaken hands with all of them. If Gale was around, the two would hunker down and chat, but otherwise Titan was a solitary figure at these functions. Although Roy wasn’t as smart as his brother, even he could guess that the reason Titan was coming was to watch him fight. It didn’t come close to making up for all the moments he’d missed throughout childhood, but it wasn’t nothing either.

  Taking a deep breath, Roy steeled his determination and started forward. It was funny: half an hour ago, he’d been in a simulated combat situation where injury was a very real possibility, yet the mere act of approaching his father was far more terrifying than anything he’d felt in the last bout. Even as the idea crossed his mind, he knew why this was scarier. The HCP had trained healers on staff to patch up nearly any non-lethal wound he might receive.

  They didn’t make a healer for the kind of injury this might create.

  “Titan,” Roy greeted, shaking the man’s hand on autopilot. Titan was visibly surprised by the sudden approach, but he quickly recovered himself.

  “Great job out there, Roy. It seems like in every trial I see you’ve upped your game. Pretty soon the HCP is going to run out of Sims that can still hurt you.”

  “If that ever happens, I’m sure they’ll just ask Will for some n
ew ideas. He’s got a ray that causes itching, and as silly as that sounds, trust me when I tell you that you do not want to get hit by it.” Roy shuddered involuntarily at the memories of his Weapons matches with Will. Even more than a year later, he could still recall the way his skin felt like it was on fire. “Gale ain’t here today?”

  “No real point for her to be,” Titan replied. “Alice accepted the internship offer, so assuming she graduates, Gale already has her student.”

  That was interesting; Roy was pretty sure Alice hadn’t mentioned accepting the offer to anyone yet. Then again, Gale had been the only potential teacher she seemed excited about, so maybe it had been implied. Either way, that made things a bit harder; Roy had planned to use Gale as an entry point into the real topic he wanted to tackle. Thoughts from Hershel bubbled up, new ideas on how to redirect the discussion, and Roy jumped on them.

  “Too bad, I wanted to talk to her. But since you’re so close, maybe you can help me. Have you ever worked with Granite?”

  There was a long pause before Titan nodded, and Roy had no idea what to make of it. “A few times, since we’re in the same city and fill the same role. Strongman-type with one hell of a defense. A good man, too. He’s always got the right parts of the job at the forefront of his mind.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Roy said. “He made me an internship offer, you know.”

  “Gale mentioned that he might. Congratulations; getting to work with a team like Elemental Fury is no small feat. With their resources and collective experience, they make for a great learning opportunity, and I know Granite will do right by you.” Titan turned to his drink, almost, but not quite, concealing the flicker of sadness that darted through his eyes.