Super Powereds: Year 1 (64 page)

“Surprise!” The lights flashed on, though why they had been off was anyone’s guess since the room didn’t have any windows to the outside, and the Melbrook students leapt out from behind various pieces of furniture. Once again one could speculate on why they’d been hiding in the first place; however, one might conjecture that a surprise party has some conventions so inherent to it that they are obeyed even when non-applicable.

“Hubuwahnow?” Alice sputtered, trying to regain her composure.

“It’s a surprise party,” Mary said, stepping forward. “Hence us yelling surprise. You know, for your birthday.”

“I... um... wait, how did you know it was my birthday?”

“Mr. Numbers and Mr. Transport told us,” Mary replied. “They actually helped us organize the whole thing.”

“That’s suspiciously nice of them,” Alice remarked.

“Nah, they’re actually pretty good guys,” Vince chimed in. “Otherwise we wouldn’t have known about your special day, since someone didn’t bother to tell us.”

“Oh, well, um, birthdays aren’t such a big deal in my family. I guess it slipped my mind,” Alice said lamely.

“Happens to the best of us,” Nick said. “Luckily for you, it certainly didn’t slip ours. Now, I hope you’re prepared for a night of collegiate celebration.”

Alice let out a smile she wouldn’t have believed possible earlier in the week.

“I think that might be okay."

“Your words say okay, but your height says awesome,” Nick said.

“My what?”

Mary tugged on her sleeve and pointed down. Alice glanced at the floor and realized she was nearly a foot above it. With as much grace as she could manage, Alice lowered herself back to a gravitationally compliant position.

“Old habits,” she said by way of explanation.

“At least we can always tell when you’re happy,” Hershel pointed out.

“She’s like a buoyancy mood ring,” Nick agreed.

For her own part, Alice just kept on grinning like an idiot. As for that questioning voice in the back of her head, it wasn’t entirely gone, of course; such things just don’t happen overnight.

It did shut the hell up for the evening, though. There was a certain amount of triumph in that fact alone.

113.

Alice was exhausted, but filled with the soft glow of genuine delight. She was sprawled on the couch in the common room, the last (wo)man standing from the night’s festivities. And festive they had been.

It turned out the reason everyone was so busy this week was that they’d each been putting together things for her party. Vince had scoured cookbooks and local grocery stores in an effort to make a five-star dinner. He’d actually done pretty well too, starting with scallops, then rack of lamb, and finishing up with a tiramisu, all of which were Alice’s favorites. She wasn’t entirely sure how he’d worked that out, but then again she’d gone dining with Mary several times, so maybe the small girl just paid a lot of attention.

Mary had gone above and beyond, too. After dinner they’d gone to a section out in the forest that had been completely overhauled. There were stands, barriers, and even some small bunkers. Hershel had designed an entire paintball course and Mary had built it, all in the span of a week. Here they met up with Thomas, Will, Jill, Sasha, and Alex to participate in a paint-based battle that can only be described as truly epic. Turns out nine Supers in the woods make for quite a tournament. Alice still wasn’t certain who had won, since after a certain point it seemed to degenerate more into a brawl than any regulated system of scoring. She just knew it had been fun.

After a return to Melbrook everyone showered, then had a slice of fudge cake Vince had somehow cobbled together when no one was looking. Songs were sung, candles were blown out, and more processed sugar was ingested. Eventually the others grew tired and headed off to their respective dorms, then her own dorm mates had begun succumbing to the demands of biology and gone to bed.

Alice had been too wired, even now as she sat alone in the common room she felt jazzed up. She’d be sleeping late tomorrow, no doubt, but that’s what Saturdays were for. She readjusted her pose and a white envelope fell to the floor. Ah yes, she’d nearly forgotten. Hershel had given that to her before going to bed, emphasizing quite clearly that it was from Roy and Roy alone.

At the time she’d been hugging Mary goodnight, but now her curiosity was tickled. She slid a manicured nail beneath the envelope’s lip, breaking the seal. Inside was a slip of paper with only a few lines written on it.

“Redeemable for one night of sex. –Roy Daniels”

Alice couldn’t stop herself, she began laughing with her whole body. The best part was that she knew, in Roy’s mind, this was probably a very thoughtful gift. That notion redoubled her chuckles. Finally the fits subsided down to giggles as she wiped a few tears from her eyes and carefully placed Roy’s coupon back in the envelope.

“Still in the party spirit, I see.”

Alice whipped her head around. Nick was standing by the boys’ side door, holding a small book at his side and dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Alice said.

“That tends to happen when your eyes are shut and your ears are ringing with laughter. Plus, I’m actually twenty percent ninja, so there’s that too,” Nick said. He walked over and sat down on the couch with her.

“Twenty percent? How does that work?”

“Oh, a great grandparent who was a full ninja and then an uncle who was a fifth or something. I’ve never been great with fractions, so who can tell.”

“We all have our failings,” Alice replied. “So why are you still awake?”

“Aside from the cackling emanating from the common room? I wanted to give you your present,” Nick said.

“And here I assumed you being civil all night was my gift,” Alice said.

“Nope, just happenstance. It’s hard to be snarky when looking down the barrel of a gun stuffed with paint.”

“I can see your point,” Alice agreed.

“So, any guesses on what you’re getting?”

“I wouldn’t mind another night out with that guy I introduced to my dad. He was pretty enjoyable company,” Alice said.

“Sorry, he was sort of conjured on the spot. I don’t know if I could do that again even if I wanted to,” Nick lied.

“Ah well,” Alice said. “I suppose you’ll do for now.”

“So happy to hear it. Anyway, here,” Nick said, handing her the book. “Happy birthday.”

Alice opened the diminutive tome and saw a young blonde girl staring back at her. It took a few seconds before Alice realized why the girl seemed so familiar. She turned the page and found the same face staring up at her, a winning grin on its face and a trophy hoisted overhead. More pages, same girl, slowly growing into a more recognizable woman.

She didn’t speak, she literally couldn’t think of any words. Instead she simply looked up at Nick for explanation.

“You once told me you didn’t have many pictures of your mom. You’d be surprised how many times we all end in pictures on public record. Anyway, I know a guy who knows a guy who specializes in this sort of- Ooof!”

Nick’s sentence was cut off by Alice spearing him in the chest as she engulfed him in a hug. Her arms knit around him and squeezed, her head resting on his chest. She held him like that for some time before either spoke.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Nick said, quite honestly for once.

They stayed in place for a moment more before Nick disturbed the quiet peace.

“If you’re going to keep cuddling me like this then I demand either sex or dinner. I’ve got my principles as a man after all.”

Alice laughed and released her grip on him. “Sorry, I just got a little…”

“Don’t worry about it. I had a similar reaction when Ms. Pips gave me my book.”

“Your book?”

“Well, yeah. How do you think I know a guy who specializes in this sort of thing? I wanted to see my parents, too,” Nick explained.

“Of course, I… Sometimes I forget there’s a real guy behind the smart assery and sunglasses,” Alice said.

“Oh, he’s real all right. Real freaking tired. I’m off to bed, and if you’re smart you’ll do the same,” Nick said, rising from the couch.

“I’ll go to bed soon,” Alice assured him.

“Sure, sure,” Nick said. He walked over to the boys’ side and opened the door. “It’s your night, stay up as late you want. I hope you had a good birthday, though.”

“I did,” Alice said. Nick nodded and stepped through the door, leaving Alice alone once again. She flipped through the book some more, savoring each new image in every detail, right down to the sound of the pages flipping.

“I really did.”

114.

“Today,” Dean Blaine said as the class settled into their seats, “I want to talk about categorization.”

Dean Blaine began walking along the front of the classroom, stepping out of his usual center area.

“Controllers, generators, absorbers, healers, enchanters, shifters, speeders, teleporters, advanced minds, and illusionists,” Dean Blaine said, ticking off each term on his hands as he rattled them out. “And that’s just a few off the top of my head. The full list of all the classified types of Supers goes on for several pages and is constantly evolving. Just from that statement, what can you tell me about the nature of this categorization? Mr. Murray?”

Will’s head snapped up. He hadn’t raised his hand, nor had anyone else. Dean Blaine had called on him before even Stella had the chance to bark her answer.

“A cursory analysis would suggest that if we’re still adapting something as general as the categories for different Super types then it means we’re still in a state of discovery regarding them,” Will said.

“Very good, Mr. Murray,” Dean Blaine complimented. “Will is correct; we are still learning more and more about Supers every day. Not just how certain powers function, either, but learning more about the broad spectrum different abilities can fall under. That isn’t the whole story, though. Anyone else? Mr. Matthews, perhaps."

A long, lean boy in the front row snapped to attention.

“I guess it implies that there is still active research ongoing in the field of Supers,” he ventured.

“True, but a restatement of Will’s previous conjecture. Please pay more attention, Terrance,” Dean Blaine told him. “Let me add this nugget to the discussion. Did anyone else know that until seven years ago, Mr. Murray’s ability was not actually recognized as a power? Show of hands.”

Will and Jill slowly put their hands up. The rest of the class’s remained down.

“Thank you, you may put them down now,” Dean Blaine said. “So until seven years ago, Mr. Murray would not have been considered for the HCP. He would have been classified human by all metrics of the time. Yet here we are, seven years later, and he is doing exceptionally well, posting excellent marks on a consistent basis. So, what changed seven years ago that altered Mr. Murray from a mere human to a Super, and a Hero candidate at that?”

“Duh,” Stella said, voicing her opinion at last. “You already told us. Extreme technological genius was classified as a power.”

“I did, Miss Hawkins, I did indeed. But that’s merely what I said. I’m looking to see if anyone noticed what I told you. There’s a conclusion here that I want you to reach,” Dean Blaine said.

It was a soft, unfamiliar voice to most of the class that piped up at last.

“The labels don’t mean anything,” Camille said, barely breaking over a whisper.

“And why is that?” Dean Blaine probed.

“Because nothing significant really changed. Will can invent things that make him a candidate to be a Hero. That’s true whether you call him a Super or not. He’ll always have that capability.”

“That is correct, Camille,” Dean Blaine said. “No change in terminology can take away the actual talent Mr. Murray has, nor any of your abilities. There was a time when telepaths were all thought to be charlatans, and illusionists nothing more than skilled stage magicians. It’s only over time, as these respective groups have consistently demonstrated their abilities, that they have been reclassified. Which brings us to most important thing you need to know about categorization.”

It was Vince who raised his hand this time, and Dean Blaine gave him the nod.

“They’re reactionary. The terms, the categories, everything in that area is created in response to new Supers or Powereds showing up and changing what they thought they knew.”

“Very good, Vince,” Dean Blaine agreed. “And that is the heart of the matter. Some of you are classified as shifters, or healers, or absorbers, and while the terms are comforting in that they make us feel like someone higher up the chain knows what is going on, it is critical that you all recognize them for what they are: words. It is human nature to put words to things, to file and sort even the ineffable. We do this because it makes us feel like we can control that chaos.”

Dean Blaine stepped back into the center of the room and gazed at the faces of his charges.

“Chaos is not here to be controlled. It cannot and it will not bend to the will of something as fleeting as an ancillary term ascribed to it. You are not controllers, or teleporters, or even Supers. You are individual people with individual skills. Never forget that. And never, ever forget that the same can be said for anyone you face out in the field. Grouping is a lovely tool for paperwork and mental accounting. Assuming you know what a person is capable of because you know the general shape of his power is dangerous, though. Often it’s downright deadly.”

“Deadly?” Stella snickered.

“Yes, Miss Hawkins, deadly. Because seven years ago, if you had run across a predecessor of Mr. Murray who lacked his moral code committing a crime, you would have undoubtedly assumed him to nothing more than another frail, powerless human,” Dean Blaine said.

“Yeah,” Stella agreed.

“And when he pulled out a device capable of liquefying steel, then utilized it, what would you have thought of him then?”

“Well-”

“That is incorrect, Miss Hawkins. You would have thought nothing, because, with all due respect to everyone’s individual beliefs about the afterlife, dead people do not think.”