Super Powereds: Year 3 (35 page)

“We’re good,” Mary told him. “Until we’re more experienced, they won’t let us work weekend evenings, since those are the biggest business times.”

“Same here,” Hershel said. “Well, for Roy and Chad.”

“I’m not scheduled, although, we’re allowed to come in whenever we want to work, even if we’re off,” Alice said. “Isn’t it that way for you guys?”

“There are only so many positions at a bar to be worked,” Chad told her. “No such limitation exists on aesthetically pleasing women who walk the area and sell alcohol.”

“He hit the nail on the head,” Hershel agreed. “No bar has ever suffered from too many hot girls in attendance.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” Alice said. She might go pick up a shift or two before the weekend. It certainly wasn’t like she needed the money, but it would keep her occupied. The more she thought about her upcoming event with Nick, or Nicholas, or whatever, the less she wanted to dwell on it.

64.

The foggy landscape billowed on as far as the eye could see. There was nothing, not land, not foliage, not even light, only white fog curling about. The fallen cloud danced and swirled despite the lack of wind, sometimes as low as the knee, sometimes as high as the hip. It stretched in every direction, an endless sea of smoky white mist.

“Well, this is obviously a dream,” Nicholas declared as he surveyed his surroundings. Even if the surroundings hadn’t made that fact obvious, he actually remembered going to sleep. After his unexpected run-in with Alice, he’d had Jerome and Eliza over to talk strategy, done a few hours of work, and then gone to bed. It was impossible to know how long had passed since he’d slipped into unconsciousness, but to him, the transition from waking to fog-world had been instantaneous.

“Of course it’s a dream,” said a voice that was perfectly familiar, yet hauntingly different. Nicholas turned around to find a person sitting on a chair next to a coffee table, despite the fact that neither had been there moments prior. He wore unassuming garb: shorts and a t-shirt that would have been uncomfortable had this been an actual place instead of a mental image. The only remarkable things about him were the sunglasses on his face and his mirror-like resemblance to Nicholas.

Nicholas arched an eyebrow, and then made his way over. As he approached, the fog swirled upward, and moments later, another chair waited. This one was leather, with fine craftsmanship. It resembled the chairs Ms. Pips kept in the more prestigious areas of the casino. In contrast, the sunglasses-clad young man sat in an overstuffed green one that Nicholas recognized, yet could not place.

“It’s from the Melbrook common room,” said the young man, clearly reading something on Nicholas’s face.

“I see.” Nicholas took his own seat, enjoying the sensation of a well-crafted piece of furniture. After a moment of savoring, he leaned forward and set his eyes on the man before him.

“So,” Nicholas Campbell began, keeping his expression inscrutable. “What is all this?”

“You act like I’ve got all the answers,” Nick Campbell replied, eschewing inscrutability in favor of a wickedly wide grin.

“This is too lucid and logical for a dream, which leaves hallucination or mental invasion. I’m confident enough in my self-awareness to know whether my mind has been compromised, and must therefore conclude that this is something triggered from within.”

“Don’t be too cocky about that self-awareness,” Nick warned. “Rich swept the rug out from under me last year.”

“Yes, I read that in your notes. Forgive me, but I feel perhaps that happened because you were a bit . . . unfocused,” Nicholas retorted.

“Jesus, is this what it’s like talking to me? No wonder we didn’t have many friends.”

Nicholas scowled. “We do not have friends. We have marks and the Family, nothing else.”

“Aren’t you just a breath of fun,” Nick remarked. “Here’s the deal, Mr. Serious. From what I can tell, I’m a vestige of your memories, of the self you became in your two years at Lander. I have all the memories you can’t access, and I’m a different person because of that. Now, the plan was for me to get wiped out, but it seems there was a small, metaphorical crack left in the wall around your memories. Hence, me.”

“Unexpectedly sloppy work from a Lander professor,” Nicholas noted.

“No, you should assume it was intentional,” Nick corrected. “The staff here are not the sort of people that should be underestimated.”

“Very well then, that begs the question of why.”

“My best guess is they figured I might know something they’d be interested in, so they kept it accessible.”

“Don’t be daft, that much was obvious,” Nicholas scoffed. “I meant, why you are only now appearing? The procedure occurred months ago.”

“Look who is calling whom daft,” Nick scoffed right back. “Why am I now appearing?
That
is the question with the obvious answer.”

Nicholas let out a long breath, watching the fog at his feet dance from the breeze. “The girl. Alice.”

“Ding-ding-ding, let’s give me a prize!” Nick declared.

“You’re something of an ass,” Nicholas informed him. “So, the girl triggered your appearance. What does that tell us?”

“It tells us that my coming here is either based on intense emotion or meeting back up with our friends,” Nick ventured.

“Emotion . . . yes, we need to discuss that. I cannot help but feel that your notes were somewhat lacking, given my unexpected reaction to Alice Adair.”

Nick’s face grew serious, his smile vanishing as easily as the fog drifting across his legs. “Are you surprised? Did you really expect me to put something like that down? Our vaults are secure, but nothing is impregnable. If it got out that I was indulging in such sentiment, what do you think would have happened to us?”

“Point taken,” Nicholas acquiesced. “Are you sure you weren’t worried about someone using her to get to us, though?”

Nick’s smile returned, bringing with it a small wave of nostalgia. It swept across the table between them, washing over Nicholas and filling him simultaneously with longing and confusion. “Alice can take care of herself. On top of being the daughter of a man with more wealth and power than some countries, she is a powerful Super. No, someone would have attacked her through us long before they’d ever successfully endanger Alice Adair.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Nicholas grumbled. This version of him was irritating. It had his mind and his training, but it was clearly clouded with attachments and emotions. No wonder it had decided to self-terminate and reset to a more efficient model.

“On her strength, yes, but not on everything,” Nick said. He reached into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out a small, glowing orb. “The rest you’ll have to earn, but the first one is always free.”

“What is that?”

“You know what it is. Something I smuggled over from across the divide. A clue to the puzzle I left you with, or perhaps a trap to lead you away from the answers. It’s a memory.”

“One of my memories,” Nicholas said, eyes wide as he stared at the orb.

“No,” Nick told him. “One of mine.”

Nicholas felt the urge to reach forward and take it, but he pulled himself back. “How do I know I even want that thing?”

Nick laughed at him, clear and hearty and with far more exuberance than Nicholas believed he’d be capable of managing.

“Of course you want it,” Nick said, still chuckling lightly. “Curiosity is our biggest weakness. We always want to know more than anyone else, to be a spider in the center of a web spun from information. You want it so badly that you're suppressing the small twitch in our right eye we get when we’re excited. Even though you know it might be dangerous to have, you still want it. And guess what? It’s all yours.” Nick reached out, setting the golden orb on the table between them.

“You’re trying to goad me into action,” Nicholas accused.

“I’m trying to cut the bullshit,” Nick countered. “We both know you’re going to take it, and seeing as you’re the only person here, there’s no need to pretend you’re resisting.”

Nicholas contemplated debating him, then realized Nick was right. He would take the orb; all he did by delaying was burn time. In certain situations, that was a valid tactic. This was not one of them. Nicholas reached his deft fingers forward, pausing inches from the orb’s surface.

“You said I’d have to earn the others.”

“Only the first taste is free,” Nick confirmed. “You know how these things work.”

“Should I be worried about what that will entail?”

“You’ll worry no matter what I say. Take the damn orb.”

Nicholas grabbed it in his fist, surprised at the unexpected warmth flowing from it. His world began to melt away, the fog replaced with sand, emptiness with twinkling stars, and silence with the sound of crashing waves.

“See you next time,” Nick called from an unseen location. Then he was gone, and Nicholas fell completely into a memory of him and Alice walking along a beach at night, and the conversation that followed.

65.

That Friday, Vince’s Close Combat trial was the final first-round test for any of the Melbrook students. Mary and Alice had both placed exceptionally well in all of theirs, with Mary dominating Focus and Alice easily crushing her adversaries in Control. Vince had fared decently in Ranged Combat, however, his imprecise and somewhat slow shots had left him well-outstripped by the quicker students. Aware of his need to impress those watching, Vince walked into Friday’s class ready to fight the devil himself if needed.

“Vince Reynolds,” Professor Fletcher called, pulling him from the observation room. “I want to see you against Murray, Riley, and Castillo.”

Vince walked out to the center of the room, followed closely by Jill, Adam, and Thomas. He moved to the middle of the battle circle, while the others took their places in a triangular pattern around him. All of them wore serious expressions, though Thomas seemed to be visibly nervous, unlike the others. This was all well within the expected standard of HCP attitudes pre-battle, though, with the exception of two slight variations. Thomas’s hands were shaking ever so slightly, and Vince’s expression had grown uncharacteristically stoic. Few noticed these oddities, but the ones who did were keen enough to deduce the implications almost immediately.

As Professor Fletcher reviewed the rules, Chad and Roy stood in the observation room, their rapt attention focused on the ensuing conflict.

“What’s your bet?” Roy asked.

“Ordinarily, this situation would result in an expedient loss for Vince,” Chad replied flatly. He didn’t want to see his future dormmate lose; however, if loss was what made him better, then it was a necessary process.

“Ordinarily,” Roy agreed. “Although, if he can steal Thomas’s energy again . . .”

“That would indeed shift the dynamic,” Chad surmised. “But I suspect Vince has not had much opportunity to practice such a technique.”

“Thomas didn’t exactly jump up and down to volunteer himself,” Roy confirmed.

“Still, that is not the anomaly in this match that will affect the outcome.”

“You talking about how serious Vince looks? Usually, he goes into these things a little more cheerful.”

“Partially,” Chad replied. “The implications of his demeanor lead me to believe he will fight well, but still lose. No, the difference in this match will be based on a single element—fear.” The students in the circle began to move, and both young men gave the match their full attention.

As soon as it started, Jill leapt forward. Her suit whirred constantly, the servos and synthetic muscle amplifying every motion she made. She was confident in her suit; she knew Will’s creations could stand up to a little rough-housing. Generally, Jill liked to work to the opposite of her opponent’s style. If they fought up-close, she’d hit from a distance, and if they were good at range, then she would get in their face. Vince, unfortunately, also possessed such versatility, so there was no such basic strategy that would make him easy prey. In the end, the choice boiled down to which would be more effective. After last year’s display, she knew his ranged powers were too damn strong. Better to get right next to him.

Hot on her heels was Adam, clearly intent on copying his opponent rather than his allies. It was not a terrible strategy, since, without the suit, Jill was nearly powerless, and Thomas’s power was strong enough to not require a duplicate. Fighting absorption with absorption: that was one Adam knew could turn the tides of battle.

Thomas glowed as his energy flowed around him, bright circles appearing on each of his hands. With two of them going in close, Thomas knew his place was striking at a distance, keeping Vince off-balance. He took deep breaths, trying to keep his focus as Jill and Adam drew near. He just had to wait for a good moment to strike. That’s what he kept telling himself. Just wait for the right moment.

Vince, meanwhile, stood unmoving at his spot in the center. His eyes were half open, and his hands were at his sides. If his strange behavior worried Jill or Adam, neither showed it by slowing down. Jill’s pace increased, the power in her suit driving her forward. She came within range and wound up, throwing a massive punch at Vince’s shoulder. It very nearly made contact; in fact, it was only inches away from shattering his collarbone.