Super Powereds: Year 3 (86 page)

                “And finally, the student who won the number three place overall put up a good time, minimized casualties, and earned a bonus for being the first among you to realize the full extent of what was being tested. The number three student overall was Vince Reynolds.”

                Vince let out a breath he’d been holding since he walked in. Maybe since the exam had ended, really. He’d needed to put on a great showing, and number three in this class was nothing to sneeze at. At long last, he was out of the middle of the pack, and this time, under his own power. That was one test down.

                Only a year and half of them to go.

159.

“Let’s talk about your final,” Professor Pendleton announced, barely having shut the classroom door. He strolled over to his desk and took stock of the bright-eyed students staring up at him. They looked so well-rested and refreshed after their vacation; it was clear he’d have to wear them back down quickly. Real life in the Hero world didn’t come with scheduled breaks when the mind and body could recuperate. Getting them accustomed to running on a half-tank was the best training he could possibly impart, and he aimed to train them well.

                “Aren’t we supposed to go see you during office hours?” Britney asked.

                “Well, certainly, you are, but that’s only regarding your 
last
 final. And really, who cares about what’s already gone? I want to focus on the new, on the next, on what’s over the horizon.” Professor Pendleton hopped up and sat on his desk, his long legs still nearly skimming the ground.

                “You’re going to tell us about our year’s end exam,” Will surmised.

                “Close, very close, but just slightly off,” Professor Pendleton said. “I’m going to tell you exactly what your exam is, how it will be graded, and what you can do to prepare. That’s right, first class of the semester, and I’m dealing out the goods. Who’s your favorite teacher now?”

                The class remained silent, merely watching him with careful eyes. They’d been under his tutelage for too long to believe anything that easy would be assigned to them. The ones who couldn’t figure that out were no longer in the curriculum, after all.

                “That last exam tested the analytical side of your minds, putting you through the wringer as far as code-cracking, hint-following, and the general madness that comes from sniffing out a digital trail can. But, Subtlety has another side to it, one equally as important, but far less defined. Would anyone care to guess what that side is? Maybe Miss Adair would like to take a crack at it.”

                “Social engineering,” Alice shot back, not an ounce of hesitation in her voice. She was getting bolder, which was both good and bad, depending on if she was aware of it or not.

                “Correct. Social engineering. Things like, oh I don’t know, telling mall security that an innocent and beloved teacher was taking up-skirt photographs of young women just so they would track him down.” Professor Pendleton gave Alice a short glare, which she greeted with a warm smile. Definitely bolder, no doubt about it. “Crass as it was, that was still a valid use of Subtlety. Turning assets, misdirection, using people as tools, it’s all part of what a Subtlety Hero does. Information is our bread and butter, and sometimes, there’s no easier way to get it than with a charming smile and an open bar tab.”

                “Please tell me we get to do this in a bar,” Rich said.

                “No such luck, young Mr. Weaver. No, this is a simple game of trust.” Professor Pendleton hopped off his desk and walked around to the blackboard. Picking up a piece of chalk, he quickly scrawled the number “210” across the board. “In your Subtlety final this year, you’re all going to fight one another. The winner will receive this many points. The losers get nothing.”

                “Wait, all this talk about being smarter and craftier than everyone else, and our test is just another fight?” Selena said. Though she felt she could do well in open combat, it didn’t change the fact that it wasn’t why she’d stayed in the class.

                “Yes, and also no. Fighting is a good testing ground, because it’s something you’re all familiar with, but that’s not what I’m really looking at.” Professor Pendleton turned back around to face the class. “You see, for this test, you’ll be allowed to work in teams. When I say the winner gets the points, I mean exactly that. The winning team will have their points split between them. So a team of one gets all of it, a significant bump for those of you who are falling behind. A team of two gets a little over a hundred points each—a perfect grade with a bonus—and a team of three gets seventy apiece. That’s just barely passing, for those keeping score. No point in going lower, since you’d just be splitting failure four ways.”

                “A team fight instead of a knock-down brawl? How does this change things?” Sasha asked.

                “Because you’re forming the teams, you’re all working together, but you’ll be telling me your teams individually,” Professor Pendleton explained. “Let’s say that Selena and Rich form a team. They train together, plan together, and have a great strategy. Just before the test, Selena turns in a paper that says she and Rich are a team. If Rich turns in the same, then great; win or lose, they’re in it together. However, if Rich turns in a paper saying he’s working alone, then they’re not on a team at all. Of course, only one of them will know that going into the fight.”

                Comprehension shot through the class like an attack from Professor Fletcher. They didn’t just have to worry about working together; they had to wonder how much they could trust their teammates, and how much they should keep to themselves. It would mean working without a sense of unity, never knowing if talking strategy would help your team, or just get you stabbed in the back.

                “Some of you are, undoubtedly, thinking that the best course of action is just to eschew the teams and go it alone,” Professor Pendleton said. “After all, there are those in this class whose martial capabilities far outstrip others. If that’s the way you decide to go, I won’t stop you. Just remember that the stronger you think yourself, the bigger a target you’re wearing the minute the action hits, and there’s no one in here that couldn’t be brought down by a well-coordinated team. Then again, maybe you can win through sheer force. It’s possible, but it’s the kind of victory that will ensure you’re not invited to make this major your Hero specialty. I want to see how you deal with this side of Subtlety, because it’s one you’re going to have to use frequently.”

                Professor Pendleton walked back over to his desk and resumed his perch. “One more thing: no using other students to help you figure out what others are thinking. You might have teammates with telepathy or something close to it in the future, but if you can’t complete this sort of task on your own, then you have no right calling yourself a Subtlety Hero. This is you, and maybe your team, against everyone else. You have an entire semester to court your assets and plan your betrayals. Good luck.”

160.

               Mary sat quietly as the rest of the Focus class filed out of the room, pretending to be digging in her backpack for some nonexistent item. Most ignored her, though Alex paused to throw her a curious glance on his way out. As the only other . . . well, perhaps not telepath but someone who was close enough, he’d been able to hear Professor Stone’s message as well as she had. But if he was curious about why Mary was being asked to stay after class, he kept his curiosity to himself. Alex stepped out of the room, making sure to shut the door behind him.

                “Did you have a nice break?” Professor Stone asked. She was still seated at her desk, pen in hand, as if there were nothing clandestine at all about their meeting.

                “It was all right. I tried to spend more time with my family than I usually do.” Mary stopped pretending to dig through her bag and zipped it up. “My parents were happy about that, but the rest of the family felt uncomfortable around me.”

                “For those without advanced mind abilities, such is the default reaction. I’d offer you ways to cope with it; however, the sad truth is that the only methods are to find those who trust you enough to not care about the mental intrusion, or hide what you can do from everyone you meet.”

                “That’s a great pick-me-up. Why don’t we go ahead and skip the rest of the small talk. I’ve got a class topside in half an hour.” Mary stood from her seat, slinging the backpack over her shoulder.

                “Certainly. I wanted to schedule some time with you to work on your dream-walking abilities. Now that you’ve progressed to the point of entering minds that are merely unconscious, to say nothing of bringing others with you, I feel it’s time I took a more hands-on role in your training.” Professor Stone glanced down at the small calendar on her desk and tapped it with her pen. “Also, could you have Alice swing by this week? From what I saw of her mind, I think she’s grown stable enough for us to attempt another memory viewing. If she’s still interested, I mean.”

                “Trust me, Alice is still interested,” Mary assured her teacher. “Even if you didn’t remind her, I’m sure she’d have been by your office soon.”

                “I rather suspected as much. For your training, how about we try and meet every other Saturday morning, to start?”

                “No can do. I’ve a recurring chess game that I can’t miss. If I’m not working at the restaurant, I could do afternoons, though.”

                “Do you really consider a board game more important than furthering your abilities?” Professor Stone asked.

                “Not usually, but you’d be amazed how much I’ve learned from playing this particular opponent.” Mary allowed herself a small, cocky grin. There was no way Professor Stone didn’t know about Mr. Numbers, his skill, or how long they’d had their standing game. She wasn’t sure what her teacher was trying to test, but on this account, she would find Mary unyielding.

                “Very well. We’ll plan for Saturday afternoon, assuming you don’t have to work. Meet me in my office by one, starting this Saturday.”

                “Are you going to have someone passed out on hand for me to dive into?” Mary asked. Lander had some excellent training resources, but that seemed to be pushing it, even for them.

                “Let me worry about that. I promise, you’ll have everything you need.”

                Though that was really more of an ominous announcement than answer, Mary let it slide. After over a year of working with Professor Stone, she trusted the older woman would deliver on what was needed. They didn’t always agree on everything, but Professor Stone knew how to train an advanced mind; that much could never be called into question.

                “I guess we’ll see on Saturday.” Mary let herself out the door and headed toward the lifts, the conversation already relegated to the back of her mind. Clandestine meetings and dream-walking training were all well and good, but if she didn’t make it to her Biology class, she’d be starting the semester behind in one of her worst subjects. Now 
that
 was something to really worry about.

*              *              *

                “Hey, Alice! Hold your ass up for a minute.”

                Alice turned to find Angela jogging toward her, clad in the white uniform of a Lander senior. She was sweaty, with her hair pulled back tight. There was no chance someone this far in the program had worn themselves out with a light jog, which meant she’d come directly from training. Whatever this was about, she’d clearly wanted to catch Alice as soon as possible.

                “What’s up?” Alice halted her trek to the lifts, turning to speak with her coworker.

                “Oh, you know, another day, another ass-kicking to deliver.” Angela paused to take a few deep breaths, and then continued. “I wanted to give you a heads up about the Cowgirl Rodeo.”

                “The who-what-where?”

                “The Cowgirl Rodeo. Shit, I know you’ve only worked at Six-Shooter for one semester, but I figured you’d at least heard of the events they hosted.”

                “I was pretty busy with, you know, the whole Hero Certification Program thing.” Alice managed to hide the exasperation that was trying to seep into her voice, but only barely.

                “That’s no excuse. Win or lose, you only go to college once. You have to make the most of it. Have some fun. After this, it’s pretty much all seriousness and reality.” Angela wiped her still sweating forehead on her sleeve. Alice couldn’t remember ever seeing the girl this worn out. Whatever training she was doing must have been intense.

                “I thought you wanted to tell me about a rodeo,” Alice said.

                “Right, damn near forgot the reason I ran you down. Anyway, just before spring break, Six-Shooter puts on the Cowgirl Rodeo. It’s a way to kick off the festivities and get everyone in a party mood before they leave town. Horribly sexist series of events: gelatin wrestling, bikini bull riding, you get the idea. It’s mostly students who enter, but they’ll ask employees if they want to sign up as well.”