Masks Seventeen: Part Five

by

Rodford Edmiston

"Yeah!" shouted Hickham, raising his arms and shaking his fists as the results from the election returns continued to come in. Responding cheers rang through the Structural Party hall. Objectively, Great Britain hadn't done badly in the Shilmek War, but the events had unnerved enough people to result in a vote of no confidence in the previous government and a call for elections. "Another win for our side!"

The party leader was a big man, much - but not all - of his size coming from a large amount of fat.

He was old enough to remember when these meeting halls would be filled with smoke. Not to mention all male. Hickham couldn't help but associate the growing female contingent with the tobacco ban. At least there was still plenty of alcohol, of many types. Speaking of which, he ordered another pint. He normally rationed himself - not only for health reasons but because he would not risk looking impaired in front of his followers - but tonight he was enjoying downing several of his favorite.

He was also luxuriating in the camaraderie, the companionship and the mutual respect. Most of all, though, he was enjoying the feeling of success. His Structural Party was not the largest or wealthiest, but with the other parties dithering and looking bad due to being caught off-guard by the War his was winning a huge number of positions in the new government. They might even have the new Prime Minister!

Bernard Hickham felt good. He'd split from his old party and taken a good portion of the members with him, adding people from all walks over the past five years. Now, his party - His creation! - was about to take over.

Good thing, too, he thought. This country was almost too far gone to save.

Well, with his people in charge that meant he was in charge, regardless of who was actually Prime Minister. Time to take over. Do things right. Make Great Britain something to be respected again!

Hickham smiled, and nodded to Colbert, his chief enforcer. The boys were ready. Whether their enemies were or not.

* * *

The Fall semester was due to start soon, and students new and veteran were rushing to complete the necessary paperwork. The Administration building at the Pine Island Academy was very busy just now.

One young woman was obviously in a greater hurry than most, heading inside. The young man was not, and on his way out. He made the mistake of graciously holding the door to the Administration building open for her.

"I don't need your help!" she snapped, stopping just inside to turn and glare at him. Traffic began to stall around them, then adjusted and shifted to other doors.

Gary thought of himself as confident and competent. Some of the others at the Pine Island Academy thought of him as smug. Well, as the current holder of the title - and abilities - of The Dragon's Hand he had good cause to be. Great-Grandson of the original, at age eighteen he was already a force to be reckoned with. Not that he was a bully or a bad person. He just was a bit too full of himself, sometimes.

"You're welcome," said Gary, his usual confident smile momentarily turning into a smirk.

He recognized her, now. Talisman, she called herself. Talk about someone with a superiority complex. She thought that being able to cast a light spell made her better than folks who could shoot lasers from their eyes.

Talisman was angry and letting the world know it, but Gary just smiled, continuing to hold the door open. People slowed and stopped to watch the encounter, though they kept their distance. All of this only made her angrier.

"Meddle not in the affairs of witches!" she snapped, stepping closer to him, the better to glare up at the boy, letting the door close behind her. "For we are subtle and quick to anger!"

Gary stared at her for a moment, then smiled again, shaking his head. She had either never heard the original, Tolkien version or simply discarded it from her memory as irrelevant for her. She also seemed unaware of the most common modern version of the quote. Releasing the door - which forced her to quickly move out of its way - he stepped back a bit and took a fighting stance. His aura manifested, in the form of a dragon.

"Be careful, little witch," said the great beast, in a voice which made tiles in the drop ceiling flutter. "I'm the one with the ketchup."

He held the pose for a moment, then relaxed, his aura fading. He wasn't sure, but he thought Talisman had wet herself.

* * *

Each semester her dorm room at Ramsey Technical College seemed to get smaller. Even when Vic was in the same room as the previous semester. Of course, the main reason behind this phenomenon was the natural tendency to collect more belongings with time.

Vic knew that some students abandoned much of their property when they left at the end of a semester, even when they were coming back. She didn't understand that. If it was worn out, you should recycle it or throw it away. If it was still good take it with you. Don't just leave a mess for someone else to deal with. If there was something you no longer needed at school, leave it at home.

Even with abandoning items, most students tended to have more each semester. Aside from meaning that the rooms were more crowded, this meant that moving in and out was more time consuming and required much more work. Especially given the choice of waiting long periods for an elevator or using the stairs. Of course, for someone who was a borderline superhuman in terms of strength and stamina the latter choice wasn't all that great a burden. Even when Alex had her roommate carry most of her stuff as well as Vic's own.

As Vic brought yet another stack of boxes into their dorm room she almost ran into a new gal on her way out. The young woman had something in her hand.

"Hey," said Vic, startled. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, I needed some ibuprofen for a headache."

Cooley, that was her name, Vic now remembered. This was her first semester, but she was a Sophomore, a transfer from another college. Vic recovered from her surprise at the unexpected encounter, quickly put the stack of boxes down and snatched the bottle from the other gal's hand. A quick look around showed that Cooley had actually rummaged through the right appropriately labelled box to find the wrong bottle.

"What's going on?" said Alex, coming in behind Vic, with a single, small box. "Who's that? Why's she in our room?"

"This isn't ibuprofen!" Vic stated, flatly, for the moment ignoring her roomie as she held the bottle out, label towards the young woman. "It's Megaprofen, a super-strength prescription-only pain reliever for people with super metabolisms."

"So much the better," said Cooley, reaching for the bottle. "I've been fighting this all morning. All this rush and bother..."

Vic pulled her hand back.

"Hey, aren't you gonna share?"

"Listen, you can't take my medicines!"

"Oh, don't be so selfish."

"I'm a regenerator! What I take could kill someone who isn't physically superhuman!"

"Stop being such an elitist!" Cooley snapped. "I'm in pain, here!"

Incredibly, she tried again to take the bottle back from Vic. Who had no problem keeping it from her.

"I'm telling the manager!"

"Manager," said Vic, blankly. "We have a manager?"

"I think she means the house mother," said Alex, smiling in amusement at the situation. "Hey, sweet cheeks. You be sure to tell the 'manager' you steal medicines from other people's rooms. Including some meant for supers only."

"I have never stolen anything in my entire life!" the young woman shrieked.

She made one more futile grab for the bottle. Then she glared at Vic for a moment, before flipping her off with both hands and storming out.

"I think I better hunt down the house mother and make a formal complaint," said Vic, with a grimace. "If for no other reason, to keep her from poisoning herself."

* * *

Energia was having her own problems with the Fall semester housing.

"Why can't I have a roommate?" she said. "I'd really like to have one."

"Sorry," said her advisor, with a shrug. "Since the government took over they made it a policy, to protect supers with secret IDs."

Energia gave vent to an aggravated sound, somewhere between a sigh and a growl. Sometimes this private life stuff could be a pain.

"Okay," she said, trying to yield gracefully to the inevitable. "Singleton again, then."

"If you enter the graduate program, which you've said you are interested in, you can get an apartment off campus," said her advisor. "Then you can room with whomever you want."

"That's still two years away," said Energia. She shook her head. "Oh, well. Guess I can wait until then."

"I'm glad you're being cooperative about this," said the woman. "I've had screaming fights - them screaming, me trying to be reasonable - with students over roommates, both having them and not having them."

"Well, if there's no option, I better go move my stuff in."

"Hopefully, this will be the worst disappointment you have this semester."

"Don't count on it," said Energia, sourly.

* * *

Brade's office at the headquarters of the Bureau of Special Resources was a bit crowded at the moment. Half the Bureau's legal staff was in there, as well as her primary deputy, Doro. Brade was worried about the younger woman. Despite a year and nearly a half passing since her husband was killed in the War, there was still a deep sadness in her. She did a lot of work, probably to distract her from her grief, so the situation was not all bad from the Bureau's standpoint. Brade still wished there were more she could do than make sure the young woman attended her counseling sessions. She sighed and began the meeting. The first order of business was a potential hire who was in legal trouble only partly through his own fault.

"What's the situation with Gilbert Harkner, codename Smoke?" said Brade.

"He's still refusing to plea bargain, and I can't blame him," said Louis. "The city won't go lower than felony on any of the charges, which would really hamper his goal of working for the Bureau. Since the bank agreed not to press trespassing charges - in part because they're very irritated at the way the police handled the situation - and we got the more absurd charges the city originally brought against Gil dismissed, that leaves just those based on the Bad Samaritan law."

"That's the one requiring charges against any super involved in a criminal act whether they actually did anything wrong?" said Brade.

"Yes," said Lewis, nodding. "Right now, Gil is out on bond and has a part time job. Normally, we'd work towards having his trial as soon as possible, but the state supreme court is about to make a decision regarding the Bad Samaritan law. If they throw it out, we'll move for dismissal of all remaining charges."

"Excellent! Any idea when they'll make their decision or which way it will go?"

"Only an approximate one for the when," said Lewis. "Odds are they'll throw it out, but that's not certain. If they don't the plaintiff in that case has made clear their intention to go to the US Supreme Court. That, though, could take years."

Brade nodded, thinking for a moment.

"Okay. Wait for the state court to decide. If they leave the law standing, go ahead to trial. Next up is the recent farce with Escapade in Louisiana..."

* * *

Talisman sobbed into her pillow. After storming back to her dorm room and screaming at her roommate to get out she had spent several minutes smashing things and yelling profanity. Soon exhausted, she had collapsed onto her bed.

Slowly, her anger turned to determination. She would show them all. She knew things they didn't dream she knew, things they thought they had hidden from all sight. She, the clever one, had found those things, and learned from them. Soon she would be unstoppable, and they would all suffer.

Part Six

"Colbert, my man!" said Hickham, cheerfully greeting his henchman. "How does our garden grow?"

"Very well, indeed, Bernie," said the slim, smiling man. "We had three successful super baiting expeditions over the weekend. Taught some of those freaks to fear the British man."

"Outstanding!" said Hickham, giving him a hearty slap on the back.

"Some of the lads are saying they want to move up to some serious 'heroes.' That they've learned enough from these trial runs to take on folks more powerful. Frankly, I agree with them. I also think we need to slip their leash soon or they're likely to cause trouble."

"Hmmmm..." said Hickham, rubbing his bulbous, smooth-shaven chin. "I guess we could let them have a little reward for patience, hard work and good service. You have any ideas?"

"Yeah. There's a new team which claims central London. They moved in right after the Shilmek were kicked out... by regular human military, I'd like to add. They've got some moderately powerful members, but they're all new at the job. We should be able to take 'em. My question is, do it on the quiet or make it a public humiliation?"

"Public. Daytime job it is. Oh, and this time, don't be afraid to do more than hurt them."

"Understood," said Colbert, with a nasty smile.

"Go and take the piss out of those costumed showoffs!"

* * *

"Oog..." said Vic, flopping down onto her bed.

"Rough mission?" said Alex, as much from curiosity as sympathy.

"Supposed to be part of my for-credit training," Vic groaned. "Wound up having to rescue the folks who were training me from a group of genetically engineered attack dogs."

"Ow..."

"Why doesn't Energia have these problems?"

"You haven't heard her stories about people like that inventor who thought shielding his machine so it wouldn't start fires in nearby buildings was an unnecessary expense. Hey, are you listening?"

Vic was instead frowning, and sitting up on her bed in spite of her previous display of fatigue.

"Say, do you hear sirens?"

"I do now."

"They're getting closer, too," said Vic, worried. "Wonder if they're coming here..."

Vic stood and went out into the hall, Alex close behind. They saw several people standing outside one of the other rooms.

"Hey! What's wrong?" said Vic.

"Someone ODed," came a reply.

"Well, get out of the way!" said Vic, hurrying down the hall and physically moving people. "Make room for the paramedics!"

She had a bit of difficulty actually getting people to understand the necessity of clearing a path from the elevators to the appropriate dorm room. Vic had just learned that the victim was Cooley when the doors of one of the elevators opened and the paramedics hurried out. Volunteers in the central area pointed them in the proper direction.

Vic quickly stepped back, and made sure all the onlookers gave the uniformed man and woman plenty of room to get their equipment in. Then she and a couple of others stood guard to keep the gawkers back, out of the way. During this period they had to actually prevent a student from taking that one elevator, which the paramedics had pulled the STOP button for to have it ready when they left.

After what seemed a worryingly long time the paramedics wheeled the stretcher - bearing Cooley plumbed to multiple IV bags - into the hall and towards the elevators. There were several hesitant, even half-hearted inquiries as to Cooley's health, which earned distracted and vague replies from the paramedics. Then they were gone.

Soon the siren sounded again, and the ambulance roared away.

"What did she take, anyway?" said Vic, to the hallway in general.

"I gave the bottle to the paramedics," said Janice, Cooley's roommate. She looked very worried. "It was some sort of prescription medication for menstrual cramps. I think Melanie gave it to her."

"I did not!" said Melanie, startled. "This is the first I've heard of it! If it's mine, that stuff is for supers only, and could kill a norm!"

"I didn't know you needed extra-strong medicine," said Vic, moving over to the shocked sometimes lobster gal.

"Yeah. I may look like a rock lobster when I power up but I have the metabolism of a rock crusher all the time," she said, a bit smugly. Her smile suddenly faded. "I didn't know she had stolen my pills."

"Yeah, and this after being put on notice by the house mother," said Alex, unable to keep from sounding vindictive.

"You mean she's done this before?!"

Vic - with considerable completely unnecessary help from Alex - related how she had caught Cooley in their room, bottle of Megaprofen in her hand.

"Oh," said Melanie, looking relieved. "I wish I had known about that, I would have been more careful about keeping my medications secure. That's not the only super prescription I have. I always make sure to lock my door when I leave, though, and so does Candy!"

"She came into your room while no-one was there," said Vic, pointedly, "got into your stuff and stole something. Something she had been warned could kill her. Even if one of you forgot to lock the door, this is all on her."

"Evolution in action," said Alex, airily.

Later that afternoon there were questions from both the house mother and the head of security. The most common reaction after hearing what had happened was to walk away with a shaking of the head.

* * *

"These new kids are such... Amateurs!" said Template, waving her arms in agitation. "It's not just that they try to skirt the rules, they aren't even aware of how to do it! Or why! They're told they're supposed to be circumspect about their powers and the school, but they take selfies of themselves and the facilities! Then try to post them online, often going to great lengths to get around our security measures! They also try to post restricted information about the school, staff, other students..."

This was an in-service day, where the staff worked taking care of administrative duties while the students were off. In the minds of most of those in the meeting, very off. Many here were wondering just how much trouble the kids were getting into without the teachers watching their every move. UN-run island security was on notice and had extra staff on hand, in case school security called for help.

"They have the nerve to be surprised when they learn that all Internet access in and out is strictly monitored," said Junker, scowling. "They yell and scream about their rights and censorship, even though they are minors and were informed repeatedly before ever coming here about the restrictions. I've actually had death threats! From kids who can't even conceal who sent them!"

"Isn't there enough to do on a volcanic island near the Bermudas with an old supervillain base and hundreds of supers?!" said Binary, who was currently female. "Especially when they're supposed to be focusing on their studies!"

"Adults have been complaining about the follies of the young since well before the gods were born," said Eve, calmly. "As well, the young have ranted about the 'unnecessary' and 'arbitrary' rules of adults, before eventually applying them completely unironically to their own young."

"Philosophy is all well and good," said Burgundy, obviously irritated, "but how do we cut back on this behavior without turning the island into a prison camp?"

Fortunately, these were experienced and well-trained teachers. The discussion soon turned specific, both as to which were the troublemaking students and what measures could be used to keep them safe. Often against their wills. The majority of offenders were one-time only. The few who kept violating the rules would be given extra attention, under notice that they were on probation and that further attempts would result in expulsion. Unfortunately, the problem extended well beyond Internet violations.

"I'm having a growing problem with vandalism," said Marcus Altione, Head of Facilities. "Not just carelessly damaging something, but often deliberately! Some of the same students who cause the damage then have the nerve to complain about not being able to use what they've damaged! Not as any sort of pretense or joke, either. They honestly think no matter what they do, nothing else they want to do should be affected! As if this were a video game of some sort, and everything should keep resetting!"

"I have several candidates for expulsion," said Burgundy. "I've even warned some of them. They all either just smirk or nod absently and wander off. They don't take me seriously!"

"That's the biggest problem, isn't it?" said Ettienne, quietly. "They don't realize the seriousness. The danger. Or, rather, they discount it while overvaluing any reward which might result from their actions. Even if it's just an adrenaline rush. Far moreso than you would usually expect from such a population. Even moreso than during my own time here as a student."

"You seem very thoughtful today," said Eve, eyeing the young healing and magic instructor.

"There have been more incursions of extraplanar creatures," said Ettienne, scowling. "So far our traps have caught all of them fairly quickly. However, the last two were powerful enough that we barely arrived at the trap in time to reinforce the containment before they broke free."

This caused an uneasy - even alarmed - stir among the rest of the staff members present.

"Is this a natural - or supernatural, I guess - phenomenon or some sort of attack?" said Junker.

"We... aren't certain. It could be an attacker taking advantage of some weakness in the mutable plenum."

"Wait..." said Junker, startled. "Are you talking about space strain deformation?"

"Uh..." said Ettienne.

"Yes," said Eve. She eyed their chief engineer and gadgeteer. "Is this significant?"

"That damned zero point generator!" Junker snapped, suddenly angry... and worried. "It works by... well, the simplest way to state it is that it stretches space, then captures what comes in to fill the hole."

There was a stunned silence as this sank in.

"You told me before that you had turned that off," said Template, looking at Junker.

"No, I said we had figure out how to turn it off, then back on; maybe," said Junker, a bit defensively. "We have a procedure which should work, but we don't have a way to test it except by trying it. We thought we'd have that done by now, but other things keep taking priority."

"I think we should try it soon," said Eve.

"We have over a week before the geothermal plant is ready," said Junker. "A couple of months before the first of Dr. Device's fusion plants is due to be delivered."

"I'll help you get the geothermal unit on line soonest," said Template. "That'll have to wait until I get back from a meeting I have right after this, though."

* * *

"All right," said Eve, after the others left. "What's the problem."

She gave Template an evaluating look.

"I'd almost think you're pregnant, again."

"I'm not," said Template, unable to keep a bit of both pride and concern out of her voice. "Karen is."

"Congratulations," said Eve, a warm smile lighting her normally stoic face. "Do you need some time off?"

"Not yet, though Karen is already taking it easy."

"Well, then," said Eve, nodding, the mask back in place. "I'll keep this in mind."

"Don't go easy on me just because I'm going to be a father," said Template, well aware of the irony of saying that while female. She gave a short laugh. "Well, biologically, I already am, since I'm Roy's father, being the sperm donor."

"Technicalities aside, I would do this for any employee in a family way. Again, congratulations."