Segregation was banned in Centralia and all the countries around it, but that didn’t mean people weren’t segregated.
Exemplars had their place in society, the neighborhoods and buildings in which they lived, the places they frequented, the jobs offered to them. Non-exemplars were the same—well, more or less.
Non-exemplars didn’t have a lot of options when it came to protesting the rules given to them by a lopsided society.
This was another reason why so many non-exemplars worked in government. It was the one option available to them to give them some sort of power, or to get closer to exemplars, who had all the power.
Literally.
A teleporter appeared, a man with a crew cut, and he placed his hand on Roman’s shoulder. They reappeared in front of the tall immigration building, sparkling bits of light settling everywhere, and once the teleporter was gone, Roman strolled in.
He said hello to Coco, who was at the station at the entrance to his floor. The Type I Class D with short hair and a smoking body simply offered him a nod.
I wonder if I should tell her when I officially become an exemplar, he thought as he made his way up the stairs and to his desk.
This was something he would need to ponder. It wasn’t often that one became part of the class that had previously oppressed them, even if “oppressed” wasn’t quite the word that best described the social stratification of exemplars and non-exemplars.
Roman leaned back in his chair and sighed.
A stack of papers stared back at him, and he started going through them, doing his morning approval rituals to the sound of…
Nope, Kevin was no longer there, which meant Roman didn’t have to sit through the guy’s bouts of morning indigestion.
And it would have been about this time that Kevin came around to offer extra help, or just to tell Roman whatever past glory story he had on hand that day.
Kevin had a damn good memory; he could recall situations he’d dealt with years ago, down to the supers’ types and classes. Some were pretty crazy, others just glorified ramblings.
Without Kevin, the morning seemed duller, even more mundane than it already was.
So he dove in head first to the stack of paper on his desk, hoping to get things sorted out.
Once he had cleared most of the paperwork, he decided to do a little experiment.
Roman got a handful of paper clips and placed them in a pile in front of him.
With a single breath in, he animated four of the paper clips, which unfolded and joined together to make a stick-figure-like amalgamation, twisting at the middle.
Happy with the way they’d turned out, Roman made several more until he had ten of these figures.
He checked his power dial. Just as Ava had said, all his power indicators were tied to one another, but it wasn’t taking too much to animate the paper clips. He did notice, however, that the red indicator was still at about the halfway point due to the fact Coma was alive and well at his home.
Red is dead, green is mean, blue is cool.
He instructed five of the paper clips to get on one side of his desk across from the other five. Figuring he would make this even cooler, he took two from each group, four in total, and placed them off-center, intending to bring them in after the fight had started.
“Now, fight for my appreciation,” he said, realizing just how stupid he sounded, yet still feeling cool saying it.
The three paper clips on the left charged toward their opponents.
Their little metal arms met, and they began bashing each other and wrapping around each other’s forms.
Since they had no heads, just two Vs twisted together in the center, it was easier for them to try to strip their opponents of their arms than it was for them to beat their opponents to death.
The two paper clips to the north and the two to the south waited for their opening.
The northern front moved first.
These two paper clips were ruthless, and rather than attack individually, they twisted together to form an anthropomorphized paper clip with six arms on top, each flailing as they charged into battle.
“Fuck yes,” Roman whispered as the paperclip battle royale continued to heat up. The southerners had joined; their strategy was to take down the six-armed behemoth, which they did by straightening out and forming a trap to ensnare its two legs.
No longer paying attention to his surroundings, Roman glanced at the box of paper clips on the far side of his desk.
The box spilled open and the paper clips poured out, forming various structures as they made their way to the melee.
Roman smiled as the paperclip war waged on.
Lunch was also entertaining.
Roman purchased a sandwich from the canteen on the bottom floor, and he’d taken his lunch late purposefully so there wouldn’t be very many people at the canteen.
With less people around, Roman was able to do something his mother had always told him not to do.
He started by animating the bread, splitting away two strips from the top half to form two arms on the hoagie.
The piece of bread hopped around waving its two stub arms, much to Roman’s amusement. Like an old man rising from bed in the morning, the exposed slice of lettuce pushed off the rest of the sandwich and hobbled into existence.
The meat came next, which Roman mentally folded and rolled off its sandwich bread. He then animated a fork, which bowed at the waist and leapt into the air, coming down onto the rolled piece of meat.
The fork righted itself, and, after checking to make sure no one was looking, Roman bent down and bit the meat off of it.
He laughed at this. His power to do stupid things made him feel like a kid again, and the fact that he could pretty much animate anything around him only added to the fun.
He saw one of the chefs exit the kitchen and focused on the swinging door.
Wanting to try something new, something experimental, Roman stopped the door from swinging shut.
He then mentally removed the hinges, the bits of metal wiggling themselves out of their clasps.
The door tipped forward, and Roman stopped it just before it hit the ground, so that it now looked as if the top portion of it was levitating. Concentrating further, Roman lifted the door back to its correct position and leaned it against the wall.
The chef came back into the canteen, looked at the door, looked at Roman, and tried to put the pieces together.
Roman simply returned to his food, trying his best to hide the smile that was moving across his face. While he had been disappointed before regarding the powers he’d been given, he was now truly starting to see just how unique they were.
As if waking up with an animated sex doll sitting before him hadn’t done the trick already.
This reminded Roman that he needed to get the evening’s plans in order. He would wait a little bit longer to cancel on Nadine, though, figuring the best place for that situation right now would be on the backburner.
There were other, more pressing matters.
Chapter Twenty-Six: Spy Problems
There was both danger and adventure in being a spy, especially one that was embedded in the field. There were also spells of extreme boredom, which was what Nadine was experiencing that day in the Fast Travel Department.
She tried not to let this boredom get to her, but every now and then, she would find herself sitting at her desk wishing she could be taking part in some sort of mission, even though she was already taking part in an operation.
Though she longed to be doing something else, Nadine was good at her job, and as soon as a stack of paperwork came to her desk regarding a group of S Visas for a squad of teleporter trainees from the Southern Alliance, she got to work.
It was hard to see all these innocent faces, to know that they, like most other exemplars with teleportation powers, Class Bs, would find government jobs spending eight hours a day handling teleportation needs, from goods to people.
Lisa Painstake, Nadi
ne’s newest asset, was nothing like the teleporters.
It was a wonder that the Southern Alliance hadn’t picked up on the numerous ways they could exploit her power. Notorious for their exclusiveness and their vast wealth, the Southern Alliance’s actions were always unpredictable. They weren’t isolationists like the Northern Alliance, but if Centralia’s immigration process was hard to navigate through, the Southern Alliance was a maze with no end.
Always one to work her hardest, Nadine powered through lunch, deciding she would just eat at her desk.
Since Sarah wasn’t in the cubicle next to her, she decided to go all out and order something. Normally, this would have been a drawn-out process she would have somehow had to loop Sarah into, or Sarah would have made her feel guilty for not asking her if she wanted anything. That sort of thing.
But Nadine was solo today, and since she was solo, she mentally ordered a delivery of Eastern Province homestyle food. Thirty minutes later, a teleporter appeared with a bag of Nadine’s favorite: a large baked potato with stewed meat inside that had been covered in cheese and fermented spinach.
It was an hour or so later when she received the mental message from Roman, who was only a floor away but had decided to send a message instead.
Hey. Something came up and I need to cancel for tonight. I figured I’d let you know before you showed up and I wasn’t there. Kidding, I’m not bitter about it. Anyway, you owed me and now I owe you, so let’s settle this tomorrow evening. What do you say? It’s getting closer to the end of the week, so if there wasn’t something to celebrate before, there is now.
“Asshole,” she whispered, knowing exactly what it was he was trying to do. If Roman was busy tonight, then she could go ahead and move forward with her plans regarding Lisa Painstake.
We need to quit canceling on each other, she finally thought to him. So sure, tomorrow night. Let’s both try not to cancel this one.
Roman’s message came about a minute later. I promise. And believe me, I’m looking forward to it.
“I’ll bet you are,” Nadine said as she returned her focus to her work.
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Lost and Found
Ava Montague paced back and forth in front of Roman, not yet sure how she should respond to her pupil’s latest action.
“Let me recap: you animated a sex doll, who is now at your home, re-arranging and cleaning the place. Is this what you’re telling me?”
“I figured I should just go ahead and come out with it,” said Roman. “ I mean, you would see the red bar on my power dial at some point, and I didn’t want it to conflict with whatever training you had in store.”
“And why didn’t you cancel your creation?”
“It just didn’t feel right. Sorry, I know that’s not a great answer. I thought she was…” Roman searched his brain for a word to describe Coma. “Interesting. I don’t know. I’m not a lonely guy or anything, not that it matters. I have friends, girlfriends, that sort of thing.”
He winced at what he’d just said—it really sounded stupid.
“I’m sure you do.” Ava raised an eyebrow at him. She looked as hot as the first time he’d met her, in tight exemplar clothing with her red hair pulled into a tight ponytail. “I just find it strange that your first inclination was to animate a sex doll.”
“She’s life-sized.”
Ava snorted. “Not the response I thought you’d give me. My point remains: she’s a doll.”
“Agreed, but she’s alive now, and I’d like to keep her that way.”
“I’ll definitely have to meet her at some point, because this is something I’d like to see for myself. And I don’t think it would be wise for you to pursue an actual relationship with her.”
“I don’t know if all her parts are, um, working or not, if you get my drift. I didn’t check.”
She squinted at him with one eye. “I suppose that’s another thing that would be interesting to know. As I have mentioned to you before, there aren’t many like you—exemplars who can animate inanimate objects. It’s too bad we don’t rate powers on their rarity, because if we did, this would definitely be up at the top. So part of me wants to see just what you are capable of—for science!—but I also want you to be extremely careful in what you animate.”
“Got it.”
“So with that said, and keeping an eye on your power dial, I want you to animate my clothing. I want you to make it come alive.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m dead serious, and I thought you’d like this task. Of course, there is something else that might make it more difficult.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m going to be attacking you in the process.” A thin smile cut across Ava’s face.
“Yesterday, you had me animating a rock, a piece of paper, and a pair of scissors. Today you want me to attack you? Seems like a bit of a jump, no?”
“That’s right. Seeing as how you are already becoming an expert, I figured we might as well step it up to the next level. And besides, do you just want to animate small inanimate objects, or do you want to see what you’re truly capable of?”
Roman cracked his knuckles. He’d been in a good many fights before, in the various fighting bars of Centralia. He’d even fought a super, but not one with elemental powers. He had no idea what he would do if she actually burnt him.
Of all people, Roman knew healers weren’t easy to come by.
“Well?” Ava dropped her hands to her side, flames boiling up her wrists and flickering off her forearms.
She looked sexy as hell in that moment, and even though he was seconds away from becoming Centralian barbecue, Roman figured he would give it his best shot.
A ring of fire appeared around him, and his skin instantly started to feel as if it were boiling.
The fire was far enough away that he wasn’t actually being burnt, but the proximity of the heat definitely had him sweating, and it would start to affect his skin if he didn’t do something soon.
“My clothes,” Ava called from outside the fire. “Animate them!” But Roman was no longer paying attention to her clothing. He needed to get this fire to stop, and for a second, he thought about trying to control the actual fire.
It is an inanimate object, isn’t it?
Figuring this idea was stupid, Roman animated the floor around him, lifting himself above the flames and forming a small plateau to stand on.
Sweating now, his heart slamming against the inside of his rib cage, Roman tried to get a grip on what was happening. Even as the flames spread higher, he steeled himself, glanced down at his power dial and seeing…
Shit.
The floor was clearly considered a mid-sized object, likely because he was only animating a portion of it.
Another thought came to him:
My power usage responds to my level of anxiety.
He responded by trying to take control of his breath, focusing on what he was creating yet protecting himself from the flames as they rose higher and higher. Ava, who stood a good thirty feet away, was staring at him intently, her brow furrowed and the control evident on her face as she made sure…
She’s not actually trying to hurt me.
This was good news for Roman, because he really did not want to be hospitalized with third-degree burns.
She could have already done it by now, he concluded, and rather than continue to fight off the flames, he figured he would take this little exercise to its very limit.
One more glance at his power dial and he saw that relieving his anxiety had helped. Fear really did play a larger part than he’d originally thought.
Roman didn’t have superhuman strength, but like most half-powereds, he did have enhanced strength, which was further enhanced through the time he’d put in at various gyms in his youth.
Focusing on the ceiling now, he forced bars to form out of the paneling.
Without looking at his power dial, Roman jumped into the air and latched on to one of the bars he’d c
reated, glad to see that it held his weight. He swung to the next bar and then the next, his muscles pulsing as he held on for dear fucking life.
Roman mentally banished all the other structures he’d created and used the bar to lower himself to the ground. Ava was just about to create a new ring of fire around him when he pulled the floor from beneath her.
He used the floor to pin her arms and legs, and even though she sparked with flames, he kept doubling down on his structure until he could no longer breathe.
Roman fell to the side, striking his head on the floor of the gymnasium.
“Goddamn that hurt.”
He didn’t know how long he’d been out for. All Roman knew was that when he woke up, Ava was crouched before him, his head resting on her lap. He looked up at her flowing red hair, her black eyes, her incredible rack.
It wasn’t a bad place to be.
“It seems you have a bit to learn,” she said with a chuckle.
“I didn’t know my second lesson would be a full-on brawl.”
“You call that a brawl? I was going easy on you.”
It felt good to be in his teacher’s hands—he wasn’t going deny that—and rather than get up immediately, he feigned that he was still injured, which he technically was since his head was still spinning and he felt queasy.
Ava’s hands ran down either side of his head, her fingers massaging his temples.
“So you’re a healer as well?”
“No, nothing like that. You hit your head, but it didn’t seem like it was very hard, mostly because the floor rose up to meet you.”
“It did?”
“It sure did, which tells me that your power is truly stitched to your instincts. This isn’t always the case with non-exemplars who take on a power. Sometimes they have to always tell their power to activate, or think it awake. I don’t know how to describe it other than that, but you get what I’m saying, right?”
House of Dolls Page 10
