best. So, imagine that, tomorrow, some company comes out with a new chemical compound that could alter you, give you abilities you never had before. What would you pay to be better than human?”
The class grew silent as each student looked inside themselves and realized they would indeed pay a tremendous amount to be one of the few in the world with extraordinary powers.
“And that’s just one aspect of it,” Professor Lee continued. “Imagine being able to control the abilities given. You could create a private security firm of a few thousand capable of besting any army in the world. What if they were to locate the difference between Powereds and Supers? How many unfortunate souls do you think would trade their life savings to go from worse than normal to better? No, the reason research is so hard to come by in this field is that, until the code is cracked, the scientific community is on what might be the greatest treasure hunt in all of known history. Still, we do have a few smatterings of knowledge; enough to make sure you all leave this class smarter than you entered it, at least.”
Professor Lee picked up a syllabus and began going over it with the class, but up in the top left row, one student was barely paying attention. The professor could scarcely have chosen better words to seize the attention of Nicholas Campbell than “treasure hunt,” and right now, that brain of his was caught up in all the unseen possibilities of what he knew and so few others didn’t: one company was closer than anyone else to finding that chest of intellectual doubloons.
8.
Alice was the last to get back to the dorm on their first day of school. Her French course had filled up faster than expected, so she’d been forced to grab a later class or put it off until next semester. It would be nice if HCP students were given some sort of priority in registration, but that would make it too easy for every teacher to know who in their class was secretly a Super. Aside from those bound by the HCP’s Secret Identity Rule, lots of Alice’s kind chose to live out the open. However, it was far from unheard of for Supers to be treated with some discrimination, either out of fear, jealousy, or good ole-fashioned prejudice. Powereds might be looked down upon, but there was no real point in going out of one’s way to shit on them. Life had already done a spectacular job of that.
As soon as Alice walked in the door, she knew something was off. For one thing, everyone, including Mr. Transport and Mr. Numbers, was gathered in the common room without the television on. For another, Mr. Transport and Mr. Numbers scarcely ever joined them in the evening—at least, not for prolonged periods. But even without those clues, she would have known this situation was out of the ordinary. Dean Blaine standing in the center of the room made that abundantly clear, as did his guest.
“Good evening,” Dean Blaine greeted. “Please, take a seat and make yourself comfortable.”
Somewhere in the pit of her stomach, Alice felt a stone of fear manifest. This was how she’d always imagined it would go. Gather them together, make Dean Blaine neutralize their powers, and have Mr. Transport send them home. No muss, no fuss, no more freaks in the HCP.
“For anyone who doesn’t remember, the gentleman beside me is named Kent Mears,” Dean Blaine continued.
“Right, he’s the job guy,” Vince recalled.
“Employment Liaison is the more official title, but at least you got the gist,” Dean Blaine said. “Mr. Mears is here because while, for most students, the option to work a job during college is optional, I’m afraid that, for you four, it is not.”
“Let me guess, someone out there wants to see just how much stress we can handle without cracking,” Hershel surmised.
Dean Blaine gave him a nod. “Partially, yes. It’s also partly to ensure that you can interact with regular humans as well as fellow Supers. These jobs put you back into
The class grew silent as each student looked inside themselves and realized they would indeed pay a tremendous amount to be one of the few in the world with extraordinary powers.
“And that’s just one aspect of it,” Professor Lee continued. “Imagine being able to control the abilities given. You could create a private security firm of a few thousand capable of besting any army in the world. What if they were to locate the difference between Powereds and Supers? How many unfortunate souls do you think would trade their life savings to go from worse than normal to better? No, the reason research is so hard to come by in this field is that, until the code is cracked, the scientific community is on what might be the greatest treasure hunt in all of known history. Still, we do have a few smatterings of knowledge; enough to make sure you all leave this class smarter than you entered it, at least.”
Professor Lee picked up a syllabus and began going over it with the class, but up in the top left row, one student was barely paying attention. The professor could scarcely have chosen better words to seize the attention of Nicholas Campbell than “treasure hunt,” and right now, that brain of his was caught up in all the unseen possibilities of what he knew and so few others didn’t: one company was closer than anyone else to finding that chest of intellectual doubloons.
8.
Alice was the last to get back to the dorm on their first day of school. Her French course had filled up faster than expected, so she’d been forced to grab a later class or put it off until next semester. It would be nice if HCP students were given some sort of priority in registration, but that would make it too easy for every teacher to know who in their class was secretly a Super. Aside from those bound by the HCP’s Secret Identity Rule, lots of Alice’s kind chose to live out the open. However, it was far from unheard of for Supers to be treated with some discrimination, either out of fear, jealousy, or good ole-fashioned prejudice. Powereds might be looked down upon, but there was no real point in going out of one’s way to shit on them. Life had already done a spectacular job of that.
As soon as Alice walked in the door, she knew something was off. For one thing, everyone, including Mr. Transport and Mr. Numbers, was gathered in the common room without the television on. For another, Mr. Transport and Mr. Numbers scarcely ever joined them in the evening—at least, not for prolonged periods. But even without those clues, she would have known this situation was out of the ordinary. Dean Blaine standing in the center of the room made that abundantly clear, as did his guest.
“Good evening,” Dean Blaine greeted. “Please, take a seat and make yourself comfortable.”
Somewhere in the pit of her stomach, Alice felt a stone of fear manifest. This was how she’d always imagined it would go. Gather them together, make Dean Blaine neutralize their powers, and have Mr. Transport send them home. No muss, no fuss, no more freaks in the HCP.
“For anyone who doesn’t remember, the gentleman beside me is named Kent Mears,” Dean Blaine continued.
“Right, he’s the job guy,” Vince recalled.
“Employment Liaison is the more official title, but at least you got the gist,” Dean Blaine said. “Mr. Mears is here because while, for most students, the option to work a job during college is optional, I’m afraid that, for you four, it is not.”
“Let me guess, someone out there wants to see just how much stress we can handle without cracking,” Hershel surmised.
Dean Blaine gave him a nod. “Partially, yes. It’s also partly to ensure that you can interact with regular humans as well as fellow Supers. These jobs put you back into
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