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significant value. However, a rare handful have abilities that make them equivalent to the greatest geniuses of our history. Individually, that is reason enough to harness their power. However, the real concern is not the individual. It is the group. You, for example. What would happen if I were to attack you?”
    Cooper smiled. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”
    “What about someone more skilled? A boxer, or a martial artist?”
    “Training can teach you how to defend yourself. But unless you were very, very good, your body would still reveal what you were about to do. That makes it easy for me to avoid.”
    “I see. And what about, say, three martial artists?”
    “They’d win.” Cooper shrugged. “Too many attacks to track.”
    Norridge nodded. Then he said, quietly, “And what about twenty totally average, out-of-shape, slightly overweight adults?”
    Cooper narrowed his eyes—
    He said “our history” and “their power.” He doesn’t see abnorms as human.
    Despite that, he knows us so well he could identify your gift. That knowledge has been applied to every facet of life here.
    He dissected your past and the sensitive spots in it based just on this conversation.
    He could have illustrated this current point a hundred different ways. But he chose combat as a metaphor.
    —and said, “I’d lose.”
    “Precisely. And we must always hold that advantage. It’s the only way. The gifted cannot be allowed to band together. So from their youth we teach them that they cannot trust one another. That other abnorms are weak, cruel, and small. Their only comfort comes from a single
normal
figure, a mentor like the woman you heard earlier. And they learn core values like obedience and patriotism. In that way, we protect humanity.” Norridge paused, then smiled toothily. It was a strange expression, knowing. It looked like given the chance, the man might take a bite out of him. “Does that make sense?”
    “Yes,” Cooper said. “I understand you now.”
    Norridge cocked his head. Whether he caught the real meaning or not, he’d at least caught the tone. “Forgive me. Getting me started can be dangerous.”
    No kidding
.
    “I should mention the tangible benefits, too. Academy graduates have made enormous breakthroughs in chemistry, mathematics, engineering, medicine—all of it government controlled. That recording device I mentioned? The nano-technology is the work of a former pupil. All the latest military equipment is designed by abnorms. The computer systems that connect us. Even the new stock market, which is, ironically, immune to abnorm manipulation.
    “All these things come from academy graduates. And thanks to our work, all are managed and controlled by the US government. Surely you can agree that as a nation—as a people—we can’t afford another Erik Epstein?”
    Which people, doc?
Cooper could feel a scream boiling inside of him, a rage that he very much wanted to give in to. Everything here was worse than he had imagined.
    No. Be honest. You never let yourself imagine it. Not really.
    Still, now that he knew, what could he do about it? Kill the director, then the staff? Tear down the walls and blow up the dormitories? Lead the children like Moses out of Egypt?
    It was either that or get the hell out of here. He stood.
    Norridge looked surprised. “Are you satisfied, then?”
    “Not even close.” But if he stayed another minute he was going to explode, so he stalked out of the office, down the polished halls, past the narrow windows with their rocky evergreen vistas. Thinking,
This cannot be the way.
    And,
John Smith was raised in an academy. Not this one, but they’ll all be the same, and there will be a Norridge heading all of them. An administrator who holds all the power, a skilled manipulator who understands and hates his pupils.
    John Smith was raised in an academy.
    John Smith was at war from his earliest days.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    “Ground one?”
    “We’re go.”
    “Ground