Read Online The Other Eight by Joseph R. Lallo - Free Book Online Page A

powers.”
    “Don’t have any powers! But I resonate with
the energy of the sunset!” he objected.
    “Yes, but that doesn’t really have any
quantifiable meaning, sir.”
    The crowd began to get a bit unruly as those
with Class B reacted to suddenly being denied superhero status.
    “Now please! A Class B rating is nothing to
be ashamed of! It is simply a statistical bracket and has no
bearing on your status as a meta-human.” The din quieted somewhat.
“However, and I assure you that this is a coincidence and has
nothing to do with your classification, all Class B individuals can
go; you were not selected to advance to the next stage of
screenings.”
    The jilted members of the crowd erupted with
objections, and for a moment things looked like they might turn
ugly, but Sergeant Roberts chose that moment to step forward.
    “The United States Army thanks you for your
interest. You are now encouraged to return to your homes or places
of business in an orderly and peaceful manner. Thank you!” The
statement was made in a clear, commanding voice, made all the more
compelling by the fact that his right hand rested on the grip of
his service pistol while he spoke it. The rejected applicants
wisely departed without further fuss.
    “Well, now that the pretenders are out of the
way, what do the other classes mean?” Nonsensica asked.
    “The initials stand for Baseline,
Combat-applicable, Handicap, Oddity or Other, Support, and
Utility.”
    “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Why am I Class H,” asked a
pale and frighteningly thin man in dark clothing.
    Aiken glanced down at Summers’s clipboard.
“Well, er, Hemo. You have the ability to bleed on command.”
    “But I can bleed other people’s
blood.”
    “Yes, sir, but it still results in blood
loss, which is something the military prefers their soldiers avoid.
For reasons which I hope are clear, all Class H applicants can go.
Again, we thank you for your time and interest.”
    There were the beginnings of an objection
from the crowd again, but a single step forward from Sergeant
Roberts was enough to convince them to rethink their actions and
disperse. With the Class B and Class H people gone, there remained
only about twenty of the forty-eight who had made it through the
initial screening.
    “So I’m Class O. What does that mean again?”
asked a fellow with a tag marked “Gracias.”
    “Oddity-class powers are powers that are
undeniably beyond what a baseline human being is capable of, but do
not have any obvious application in a military context,” Aiken
explained.
    “Okay, but what does that mean?”
    “It means we’re sideshow freaks, not
superheroes,” said a man with a sneer. His name tag dubbed him
Chloroplast, and since his arrival there had been an argument
circulating among the crowd about whether his complexion, which was
broccoli green, was the result of his powers or body paint in lieu
of a costume.
    “Hey! I have the ability to make grass grow
on people’s butts just by thanking them. What part of that is
freakish?” Gracias asked.
    “What part of that isn’t freakish?”
Chloroplast jabbed.
    “At least I don’t have green skin like some
sort of scrawny, weak, wannabe Hulk!”
    “How exactly am I an oddity?” Nonsensica
said, ignoring the argument behind her in favor of her own outrage.
“I’m able to verbally short-circuit brains! That’s totally a combat
power for sure!”
    “Oh, well, in your case the O is for
Other.”
    “What’s the difference?”
    “Other is distinct from Oddity in that there
is no obvious evidence of your power when it is in effect.”
    “Well, how is that any better?!”
    “Now come on, fellas, miss. No need to fight
about this,” Phosphor said, slapping a massive hand onto Gracias’s
back and another on Nonsensica’s shoulder. “Lots of folks who came
here got told they didn’t have powers at all. Seems to me if you
got this far, Uncle Sam thinks you’ve got something to add to the
team.”
    “That’s