by Hayes, Drew
“You can’t seriously be that wounded and still keeping focus. It should be impossible. What sort of reckless training do the instructors at Lander give you?”
For the first time in the fight, Vince felt a flash of genuine anger. “They teach us to fight, no matter what, no matter how hopeless, no matter how impossible, because someday we’ll be the only ones who can. You want to know what makes Lander so unstoppable? It’s our teachers. They’ve fought for us, bled for us, and wept for those of us they couldn’t save. They aren’t reckless at all. They’re Heroes, and that’s what they’ve been training us to be – the kind of Heroes who don’t bow to the impossible, who won’t quit until we’re dead. And even then, our bodies will still keep on fighting. Heroes don’t accept the impossible. We don’t have that luxury. That, more than our powers or our training, is what makes us strong.”
His hands slapped against either side of Conrad’s face, like Vince was trying to hold the head in place. “Deathblow. Unless you think you’ve got a way to wriggle free of kinetic blasts to both sides of your brain. Unless you’re ready to fight for an impossible victory.”
Conrad’s eyes blazed and he started to squirm, an act that put pressure on both of his broken limbs. The struggling failed. He glanced to the ground, but they both knew it was pointless. Vince would “kill” him before the first stone rose, especially with Conrad’s injured state muddling his concentration. Another second ticked by and Conrad closed his eyes, all-too-aware of what was inevitably coming.
“And there you have it!” Victor’s voice was booming louder than ever, with something of a frantic edge to it, yet there was also noticeable joy as he yelled the results. “By deathblow, Vince Reynolds has defeated Conrad Booker. That makes him this year’s Intramurals champion!”
292.
The viewing room was going wild. Everyone was yelling, most cheering, some shouting in pure shock. Somewhere along the line, it had failed to matter who represented what school as Heroes and students alike found themselves absorbed in the spectacle. Only a few people maintained their calm, and one such duo stood near the window, watching as a bloody Vince limped his way off the battlefield.
“Did you really expect Vince to figure all that out just from giving him a set of playing cards?” Alice asked.
“You’ve already learned the first rule of Subtlety: always pretend you knew how everything was going to play out. Unofficially, though, there’s a nice thing about helping people like Vince: they never really require that much help. A shove here, a reassurance there. He just needed a reminder and something to puzzle over to keep him from getting stuck in his own doubts. Vince was always going to reach a conclusion that helped, albeit eventually. That’s the only kind of meaning he’d ever be able to find in a last-minute gift from his best friend.”
Taking a quick glance over his shoulder, Nick noticed that no one was paying much attention to the lifts. “I assume he’ll be a few minutes. No way a fight like that doesn’t come with a lengthy debrief. So I think I’m going to slip upstairs and see if I can deliver the news before anyone remembers to tell Professor Pendleton.”
“Not sure you’re allowed up there anymore,” Alice pointed out.
“You are almost certainly correct. All the more reason to go celebrate with my old class while no one is paying attention.” Nick could tell Alice was suspicious, and he didn’t blame her, but there wasn’t time to try and explain why he felt compelled to head toward the gym. “Oh, and in case I don’t get back before Vince does, tell him that I already know what he’s thinking, and if he’s absolutely set on it, then Shuffle is as good a name as any for a Hero. I was hoping he’d land on something more dignified, but a simple, straightforward concept probably fits Vince best anyway.”
Nick didn’t give her a chance to respond, slipping through the crowd as a path to the lifts opened. He made it in without incident, hitting the buttons to take him toward the gym. It was over. Intramurals was over, and nothing had happened. Sure, he’d been able to help Vince a little, but that didn’t seem weighty enough for the weeks of a nagging hunch that demanded he be here. Moreover, the feeling wasn’t gone yet. That was why Nick decided to break for the gym: it felt like a place he should be. Perhaps there was another attack on Lander coming, bold criminals deciding to attack the Heroes head on. That didn’t explain why Nick felt that he should be there though; Lander currently had enough Heroes on hand to repel a modest army, and with countless more ready to move if someone went for any of the HCP campuses.
None of it made sense, which meant the only viable answer was either that something completely unexpected was going to happen, or Nick’s new intuition ability wasn’t as reliable as he’d thought. The latter was certainly possible. That aspect of his power had scarcely been tested, and what had happened so far could be chalked up to coincidence, or even normal, non-power-related luck.
That influx of doubt lasted precisely until the lift arrived at the gym’s floor, doors opening to put Nick face-to-face with Professor Pendleton and Shimmerpath. They’d been running down the hallway, clearly in a hurry, but stopped as soon as their eyes fell upon the former Lander student who shouldn’t have been there.
“Came to tell the class that Vince won.” Not much of an explanation, but it was a way to open dialogue.
“I let them know already. Ran out while everyone was celebrating. Something tells me great minds think alike.” There was something off about Professor Pendleton. His usual calm, apathetic demeanor had slipped, a panicked edge sharpening every word and movement. Virtually nothing got Professor Pendleton this rattled – nothing except the subject of his missing sister and the man who’d faked her death.
Nick could have slapped himself in the skull, he felt so stupid. He’d been so wrapped up in Vince and the others that he’d let his vision slip from the bigger picture. If Globe had a chance to go after Charles Adair, what was the best day to launch an attack with the lowest chance of DVA or Hero involvement? Intramurals. And since he had a mole at Lander, Globe would know exactly when that event was taking place. It was all so obvious when Nick looked at the situation critically. The stranger part was that Shimmerpath was here, clearly taking Professor Pendleton somewhere with her. Why would they strike after the event was over? They wouldn’t. No, the far more likely scenario was that things were going badly, and Shimmerpath was here to get backup.
“Raid on the Adair lab not going well?”
Shimmerpath looked at him in shock, but Professor Pendleton only let out a snort. “Finally put it together, huh Nick? I was wondering when you’d get it figured out. If you’ll excuse us, we need to get going. There’s not much time before that place becomes the most active spot in the Hero world, and I need to have Shelby out by then.”
Was this it? Was this the whole reason he’d had the urge to be here, just to act as a witness to Professor Pendleton’s departure? No… that couldn’t be all. Nick noticed that Shimmerpath’s face had shifted, the shock giving way to a scrunched brow signaling deep thought.
“He said your name was Nick. Nick Campbell, right? The kid who got expelled sophomore year helping Vince?” Shimmerpath took a step closer, her voice instinctively lowering. “The one with the power of luck?”
“It sounds a lot more special than it is. All I can do is control the general flow of good or bad. Not that helpful outside of specific situations.”
“I’d say it can be very helpful, and has been before. Last May, for example.” Shimmerpath was looming over Nick now, maybe to intimidate him into being honest, or perhaps because she thought he was going to run.
“That was a special occasion. I’d been amplified way beyond my normal limits. I can’t manage anything close to that on my own,” Nick explained.
The intensity of Shimmerpath’s stare didn’t lessen; the lone change was that it darted to a watch on her wrist. “A few minutes. I’ve got a few minutes left. They’ve got a few minutes.” Shimmerpath was chewing on her lip, looking between Nick and the wa
tch. “Phil trusted you that night. He believed in you because his son believes in you. I’m not Phil, though, I don’t trust that easily. Give me a reason, Nick. I’m ten seconds away from betting everything we have left on you, because you might be the only person left who can really change things. So give me a reason to believe the way Phil and Vince do.”
At long last, Nick’s stomach finally settled. This was where he was supposed to be. This was the chance encounter his intuition had been leading him toward. This was a point where history could pivot, depending on what he did. Shimmerpath was a trained Hero who was clearly on a clock. There was only one tool to reach someone like that, even if it was one Nick rarely leaned on: the upfront truth.
“Shelby Hill is the mother of my girlfriend, the adopted aunt of my best friend, and the half-sister of my favorite teacher. If you don’t want to trust me – and yeah, fair enough, I get that – then trust that I would never hurt the people I love. They all care about her, which means dollars to donuts those idiots will find a way to get themselves involved in this before all is said and done. So I’d better be there to make sure they all get through it, Shelby included.”
“Well, you’ve got confidence, if nothing else. Maybe a little too much, even with your reputation.”
“No one has ever accused Nick of abundant humility, but he usually delivers.” Professor Pendleton set a hand on Nick’s shoulder, drawing his attention. “You’re not a student, so I can’t order you to stay, and after what you told us about how you helped last year I’m not sure I’d even want to. But make sure you understand what Shimmerpath is asking. This isn’t a school exercise. You follow us, you risk very real death.”
“That and a cup of coffee makes up my morning walk in Vegas,” Nick shot back. “Now hurry on in here, luck doesn’t mean shit if we’re out of time.”
Professor Pendleton and Shimmerpath joined Nick in the lift, heading to the surface to pick up Joan. Their course was set for danger; there was no point in putting off the departure.
293.
Nick had barely left the viewing room when another set of lift doors opened, revealing a crush of DVA agents clamoring to get out. They somehow stampeded their way into freedom, all rushing over to Graham DeSoto and whispering with surprising ferocity. The rest of the room took notice, especially when Graham’s face went from surprised to annoyed to a solemn expression that had far too much gravity for a simple HCP tournament. He whispered back to them, then scanned the room.
“Where is Dean Blaine?”
From Graham’s left, Titan stepped forward. “He went to congratulate Vince, and Dean Jackson is down there talking to Conrad. Post-final match discussions, as usual.”
“Right, of course.” It almost seemed as though Graham had momentarily forgotten Intramurals was happening around them. “Titan, please wait here. When Dean Blaine and Dean Jackson arrive, tell them I have taken over the teleconference room to have a meeting and they are expected to join as soon as possible. The situation is urgent. The rest of the deans, and Casper, please follow me.”
It didn’t escape Alice’s noticed that Angela looked hopeful as Graham was doling out orders, despite the fact that none came for her. Alice and Angela’s eyes met when Graham led the deans to the lift, Angela giving a brief shrug as if to say she was used to it. Alice certainly wasn’t, and she didn’t trust the fact that Nick had vanished moments before things got interesting. Knowing him, there was no chance that was coincidence. What was going on? And how much did Nick already know? They’d be having a long talk about him keeping her in the dark when this was over, but for the moment Alice’s bigger concern was assessing the situation.
Something big was going down. Something that had the head of the DVA calling a meeting with all of the deans. There were plenty of explanations for that, anything from another attack on campus to an Armageddon Super popping up half the country away. That was the lie Alice kept telling herself as she waited for a new development. She didn’t believe it, but it kept her calm. Alice needed to stay like that, collected and ready. If history had taught her anything, it was that when the time came to make a move or a choice, she wouldn’t get much time. She’d have to be ready for it. That was part of what it meant to be a Subtlety Hero.
* * *
As far as derelict bases went, it wasn’t bad. Comfy chairs and couches, good roof overhead, solid walls to help with the temperature. Nick had seen people hidden in far worse hovels through the years. The only disconcerting part was the young boy who leapt up from a sofa as soon as they appeared, purple energy crackling across his skin and eyes. Nick recognized the kid on sight. Most of the night Lander was attacked had been burned into Nick’s memory, and Globe’s amplifying lackey was certainly no exception. He didn’t seem as composed this time around, which was odd given the relative peace compared to their last meeting, racing up to Shimmerpath as soon as they’d stepped through the portal.
“You’re running behind, I’ve got a few minutes left to use this. And where are the others? Are they hurt? Are they…” His eyes began to fill with tears. Shimmerpath dropped down to a knee and pulled the boy in for a hug.
“Relax Quentin, it’s fine. We had to split up, you knew that was a possibility. We’re about to go back in, we just needed you to amplify someone first. This is Nick, and he’s going to be a big help to us.”
“We’ve met,” Nick tossed in.
“Nuh-uh.” The kid barely glanced at Nick, his attention solely on Shimmerpath. Maybe he didn’t remember Nick from that night, or maybe it had been Adam that Nick actually saw; one couldn’t rule anything out with a mimic. As the child finally pulled away from the hug, he managed to start speaking again. “I can’t use my power on him. Globe’s not here. Globe has to be here. It hurts too much without him.”
The pain. Now Nick remembered the warning from last May. Quentin’s power apparently hurt quite a bit for those receiving it, and Globe used his ability to take away that physical aspect. Nick could still recall how stretched and out of sorts his mind felt afterward; if his body was going to experience something similar, it seemed highly likely to be unpleasant. Was this an oversight? No, one look at the set expression in Shimmerpath’s eyes made it clear that she’d known what she was asking Nick to do. A cold move, one Nick could respect, even if he was a bit annoyed. They didn’t have time to try and talk Quentin through his little moral roadblock, though. It was time for Nick to lean on a classic method of negotiation: flat-out lying.
“You don’t need to worry about that. Shimmerpath knows you couldn’t amplify someone normal without Globe. That’s why she brought me. See, my power is special. It becomes what I need it to. And in this case, I need it not to hurt, so it won’t. I’m the guy they call in for these exact situations. Go ahead, juice me up. I’ll be perfectly fine, won’t feel so much as a twinge.”
“Really?”
“Of course. You know how great these people are, didn’t you think they’d have a plan for this?”
Quentin wanted to doubt him; the uncertainty was flickering in his eyes. But Nick was an adult, an adult acting with the sort of surety only adults were supposed to wield. The child’s eyes looked to Shimmerpath, who nodded, then to Joan, who did the same, albeit a tad more hesitantly. He didn’t so much as glance at Professor Pendleton, who must have seemed like a tall stranger looming in the shadows. Quentin’s resolve started to cave: he was a good kid, did what he was told and believed what adults said. Slowly, still wary, he began to reach for Nick’s hand.
“It will take about ten seconds for him to fully charge you,” Shimmerpath said. It was a warning, plain as day. If Nick showed that he was in pain, Quentin would probably stop. No matter how much this next part hurt, he was going to have to pretend to feel nothing for the full ten seconds. This wasn’t a situation where a partial charge might be good enough. Nick was planning on strolling into a fight between two brothers of incredible power; he had to walk in there with every advantage he could get. Even that might not turn out t
o be enough.
“Whenever you’re ready.” Nick sat in a chair with his hand resting on the arm; standing risked his body seizing up and giving away the charade. At least sitting, all he’d have to focus on was keeping his head upright.
Slow and steady, Quentin’s hand crept along until he finally laid it down in Nick’s open palm. With one last worried glance to Nick, Quentin took a deep breath and began to let his power flow.
In the first second, Nick nearly bit part of his tongue off shoving down a scream. The smile on his face was shaky, and beads of sweat were forming around his brow, but Nick looked right at Quentin and nodded that everything was okay. While it wasn’t a celebrated part of his training, Nick had been educated in how to handle pain. It was a necessity, given the world he had been groomed for. Much as he’d hated it at the time, part of Nick dearly wished he’d had more of those lessons.
Because as bad as the pain had been at the start, it was growing worse with every passing moment. And he had to keep smiling.
294.
“The champion of Lander. Not too bad for a young man who walked into his first match with little more than a lighter’s worth of fire and a crippling fear of using his full potential.”
Vince had just finished being healed, warily noting the dangerous look in Camille’s eyes as she saw his wounds, when Dean Blaine arrived and walked him over to another room. Putting off Camille’s forceful discussion of Vince’s tendency to get injured was only going to make it worse, but this was a reprieve he could hardly turn down. The two of them had walked into a small office and taken seats in cushy chairs before Dean Blaine began talking.
“I’ve had a lot of time and training to get better. Not to mention some of the best teachers anyone could hope for.” Vince paused, the adrenaline of battle fading from his system and slightly jumbling his thoughts. “Is it strange that part of me feels… bad? The others wanted this so badly. Chad has worked all four years to be here, and Shane was right on his tail. Even Alice had something to prove. It’s hard not to think that they deserve to be standing here more than me; my mindset during the fight was that it didn’t even matter.”
