Super Powereds: Year 3 (27 page)

“There is leeway for self-defense,” Mary reminded her.

“If that was all it was, then yes, it wouldn’t have been a big deal,” Jill agreed. “But . . . let me just say this. I never saw my mother again after that night. She relinquished custody to my father. That wasn’t like her. She didn’t scare easy; it was part of her unbalanced mind. Will made her afraid, though. He made her so afraid that she ran from us without ever looking back.”

“I won’t say anything,” Mary agreed, her tone earnest. “Will is a good guy. He deserves to be here.”

“Yeah, he does,” Jill agreed. “Sorry about all . . . you know . . . that.”

“There are risks any time I go into someone’s mind,” Mary said. “It’s why I was so surprised everyone volunteered to help.”

“I don’t think we quite knew what we were getting into. At least, I didn’t,” Jill admitted. “On that note, can we go hang out in a dream or something until I wake up? I don’t think I want to explore anymore tonight.”

“Fine by me,” Mary quickly agreed.

“Computer, what dreams do I have available?” Jill asked.

“Most popular dream scenarios are: Flying in Clouds, Tropical Paradise, Hunted to Death by Demon Clown, Sex with A—”

“Tropical paradise!” Jill hollered quickly. “We’ll hang out in the tropical paradise.”

“Simulation: Started.”

47.

“Sounds like you had quite a night,” Mr. Numbers said, carefully moving one of his pawns into a new position. Despite his workload, the Saturday chess game with Mary was now a two-year-old tradition he’d grown to account for in even the most stringent scheduling. She had just relayed most of the details of her journey into Jill’s mind, though the incident of the taboo memory had been delicately cut out entirely. Mr. Numbers knew she was hiding details; however, he trusted her judgment enough not to press the issue.

“It was exhausting,” Mary agreed, studying the board before making a new move. In the years they’d played, her skills had grown considerably. Though she’d yet to win a game, it took well into the tens of minutes for Mr. Numbers to beat her. “I did learn a lot, at least. I now know I can travel into minds without Rich, which is a huge deal. Plus, I found out that I get a little bit of sway on the world.”

“Likely because you and the participant are both present in the dream,” Mr. Numbers speculated. “Previously, the entirety of the hallucination was either imposed or directly defined by Rich. In a true unconscious state, those doing the dreaming are in control.”

“I was guessing something in that direction,” Mary agreed, finally moving her knight. “What still bothers me is why I spent all night tethered to Alice and didn’t get in, but Jill accidentally rolls onto me, and I’m immediately in her head.”

“Exploration of the mind is still an ill-defined practice,” Mr. Numbers told her. “However, we do know that different people have different levels of resistance to being mentally invaded. Think of it as an immune system, but for the mind. Some people are just naturally tougher than others.”

“Makes as much sense as anything else,” Mary said. “Although, I’ve never had trouble reading her thoughts.”

“Only the most astoundingly resistant can stop telepaths with just mental resilience,” Mr. Numbers informed her. “That is roughly akin to picking up radio waves. The thoughts are out there, you just have the capacity to pick them up. Intruding on a mind is a different matter altogether.”

“Weird that Professor Stone didn’t tell me about this.”

“I’m certain she would have, once you brought it up to her,” Mr. Numbers said. “Perhaps I spoke out of turn.” He moved a rook to its new position, knowing it would be captured soon.

“No, I’d rather know these things sooner than later,” Mary said. “I’m not even sure what my next step is, now that I know I can dream-walk on my own.”

“That seems rather obvious, doesn’t it?” Mr. Numbers asked.

“Not to me.”

“It seems like the next logical step would be trying to enter the dream of someone sleeping while you’re awake. As it stands now, your ability is useful, but highly limited. Probing someone without having to go to sleep first would be far more adaptable a talent.”

“That’s true,” Mary agreed. “Plus, it might let me learn how to get through the minds of people with natural resistance. I mean, if I’m conscious, I should be able to try and break in.”

“It is possible,” Mr. Numbers said. “First, find out if wakeful entrance is even viable, though.”

“Looks like I’ll need a new volunteer,” Mary sighed. “Alice’s resistance means I won’t be able to go in until I know what I’m doing, if ever. Any suggestions on what Supers are usually weak to mental intrusion?” She moved her knight once more, this time, taking his rook.

“Sadly, I don’t possess enough data to give you an accurate answer on that account,” Mr. Numbers admitted. “Professor Stone will undoubtedly be a better source.”

“Never hurts to ask,” Mary replied.

“If I may, however, I would offer up one bit of advice to consider when choosing a new test subject. Consider the mind you’ll be going into.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” Mr. Numbers said, moving his bishop into the strategic hole created by Mary taking his rook, “I would recommend choosing carefully whose mind you go jumping around in. Rich’s scenarios were controlled, but I suspect a wild subconscious is less so. There are people who have histories and issues that I suspect would make their minds . . . inhospitable.”

“That is pretty solid advice,” Mary said.

“I strive to help. Also, checkmate.”

48.

Dean Blaine was surprised by the knock on his door Sunday afternoon. As a rule, he didn’t advertise that he came into the office on weekends to catch up on paperwork. That would have meant other people knowing he was there, which would lead to interruptions and defeat the entire point of doing it on a Sunday. He wondered if he could pretend not to be here, and hope the person went away. After three more sets of knocks, however, it became apparent that they knew he was here and weren’t giving up easily. With a sigh of frustration, he rose from his expansive desk and opened the door.

Standing on the other side, looking somewhat out of place since he wasn’t in uniform, was Chad Taylor.

“This is unexpected,” Dean Blaine commented, ushering him in, and then shutting the door behind him. “Is everything okay? Need additional healing from Friday’s match?”

“No, the injuries I incurred were well within my capacity to handle,” Chad said. “Though I am here about something as a result of that. Or, maybe a cause. The order is debatable.” He walked over and took a seat without needing to be told.

Dean Blaine sat back at his desk and slid away some of the paperwork. “Why don’t you start at the top?”

“It would be redundant, since you already know most of the circumstances I’d be recounting,” Chad explained. “Going right to the point would be more expedient.”

“By all means, then.”

“I want to move into Melbrook Hall,” Chad said flatly.

If Dean Blaine had thought someone knocking on his office door on a Sunday was a surprise, then this was a full-out flabbergaster.

“I know there is an empty room,” Chad continued. “One that you’ve by now either decided to repurpose or re-occupy. If it is the former, then so be it. However, if it is the latter, then I would like to be the room’s new occupant.”

Dean Blaine wished he could deny that they’d made a choice on the empty room so soon, but Chad knew him better than that. Besides, he didn’t really want to lie to the young man, and there was technically no reason to do so. The only inclination that told Blaine to fib was the one that wanted to keep Chad safe and away from the chaos that encircled the Melbrook students.

“It has been tentatively decided that, assuming we can find someone who meets the criteria, we will put another HCP student in Nick Campbell’s old room,” Dean Blaine admitted.

“Then, as I’ve said, I would like to be that student,” Chad reiterated.

“I’ll need to ask why,” Dean Blaine said. “Aside from the waiver forms and general security precautions, you know those four are unique to the program. The motive for living with them needs to be evaluated as well.”

“Of course. The concise answer is that I think it will be mutually beneficial for both myself and for their group,” Chad said.

“Let me hear the less concise answer,” Dean Blaine requested.

Chad nodded. “I’ve recently become aware that there are aspects of my training that are lacking. My fight with Angela illustrated that quite well. I don’t think in terms of creativity or innovativeness. I am straightforward in my battles; however, I’m beginning to see that such a tactic will not work against all opponents. I suspect that part of the reason this is an issue for me is that my life is so neat and well-ordered. I do not find myself in situations that require a non-linear approach, because I’m careful and fore-thinking enough to avoid them. Those four seem quite the opposite; they are constantly embroiled in some sort of hoopla or shenanigans. Thus, I would hope that moving in with them will round me out, so to speak, making me a more complete Hero.”

“Eloquent, well-thought out, and perfectly logical,” Dean Blaine complimented. “I believe it too. But I also know you well enough to think there’s more.”

“Maybe there is,” Chad admitted. “But it is not something I would feel appropriate divulging to the dean of the HCP.”

“Then, let’s say this part is just for an old friend of the family,” Blaine said, offering Chad a sly smile.

“To him, I would say that my recent realization about my feelings for Angela has made me wonder how much else I’ve been missing. Our date Friday was awkward, strange, and frequently embarrassing, yet I loved it. I’m sure there are more things I’ve been avoiding, intentionally or not, but I don’t know enough to know what they are. I want to become more involved in life; however, I require some guidance to do so. Roy Daniels has frequently aided me when emotions have bubbled up so far. I feel like he, and his ilk, would be good to have on hand for future incidents.”

“I understand. Now, back on the official record, can you tell me why you feel they would benefit from you moving in? Those students have lived together for two years now. They have a defined dynamic that a new tenant would likely upset,” Dean Blaine said.

“Aside from the obvious, that having a high-ranked Super to work and train with would help them overall, I believe I can offer exceptional value to one of them in particular,” Chad said. “Specifically, Vince Reynolds.”

“How so?”

“I’m aware he is under extra scrutiny following the Globe revelation. It seems to me that, if the dean were so inclined, the son of Intra willingly choosing to live next to the son of Globe could be used as an excellent mark of confidence in Vince’s integrity. No one here has more cause to hold a grudge over his paternity than I do, so if I, instead, show him friendship, it should speak great lengths to the quality of his character,” Chad explained.

“That it would,” Dean Blaine agreed. “But, by the same token, it’s also possible there will be conflict between the two of you over that issue.”

“No, there won’t be,” Chad assured him. “Vince is himself, and I am myself. Neither of us are our fathers. We made peace with it last year.”

“You’d better be sure of that,” Dean Blaine said. “Because all the good you moving in might do would be negated, and then some, if you and Vince had any kind of public conflict.”

“I’m sure,” Chad reiterated.

“Okay then.” Dean Blaine reached into his desk and pulled out a slim stack of papers. “You’ll need to fill these out, and get your mother to fill out the last two.”

“I am not a minor. I am legally allowed to sign for myself,” Chad pointed out.

“Yes, but she’s the one paying the bills, so she still gets some say in how the money is allocated. Don’t worry, though; if anything, I can probably swing having your housing cost lowered if we get you into Melbrook,” Dean Blaine said. “In the meantime, I’ll get the wheels in motion on my end. But no promises.”

“No need for promises,” Chad said, standing up. “I know you’ll come through.”

49.

Nicholas Campbell sat on a bench, a sandwich in one hand and a biology textbook in the other. He’d adjusted to life at Lander quite easily; the classes were simple (at least by his standards), and the environment was surprisingly enjoyable. The fly in his ointment was Nathaniel Evers, who, aside from their recent encounter, had yet to show his creepy-ass eyes anywhere near Nicholas. Jerome and Eliza were scouring for him, but it seemed he’d opted to back off after his initial opening move, waiting for his next chance to strike. Still, that would occur sooner or later, and Nicholas had other things on his mind until then. Though the book in his lap sat open, his eyes surveyed the campus and all the students wandering across it as he dined on his meal. He’d made it a point to eat in the same place every day for a week, watching the comings and goings of all the Lander students with a trained eye. Next week, it would be a different place, then another, and another, until he’d successfully mapped out the daily patterns of as many people as he needed. It would have been impossible to track everyone, even for him, but thankfully, the pool of people Nicholas was looking for was far smaller than the entire population.