Thursday morning, 6:45am.
Gustav woke with a start as the alarm on his iPad went off, echoed through the whole of the building as all the alarms in the neighbouring rooms also went off at the same time. Despite last night’s adventure and his lack of a coffin to sleep in, exhaustion and Adrenalin aftermath from the previous night’s adventure had meant he must have fallen asleep sometime after 2am and hadn’t woken until now; it had been a deep and dreamless sleep, thankfully. He knew he had to tidy up his room (as best he could, looking at the damaged bed frame from the previous night’s adventure), do a few exercises, shower, dress and head to one of the house common rooms for breakfast before heading over to the main building for his first class. A real school for the first time in his life, would he fit in? How did his father’s saying go? There is no rest for the wicked? He shook himself to get the kinks out of his muscles and began trying to adjust to his new morning routine.
Chris’ also sat up with a start. What the..? His very pleasant dream instantly vanished from memory as his iPad’s alarm rang out. Since he wasn’t planning to shower with the others (having showered after Special Curriculum the day before) he tried to interface mentally with the alarm function on his iPad and reset it to give her (No, here he was always male as far as anyone else was concerned so he immediately corrected himself) HIM an extra ¾ hours of sleep. To his shock, the attempt was instantly blocked. The phrase ‘Naughty, Naughty’ appeared multiple times on his screen as he was immediately informed that his computer access was restricted until after 4pm tonight except for school assignments. That was unexpected, and the response didn’t appear to be automated. Did the school have some sort of A.I. monitoring their systems? THAT possibility woke her, no dammit, him fully up, yet another mystery of the school to uncover.
He got out of bed and again tried to mentally interface with the internet, only to find all he could access was school material, whatever was blocking him was good. Just meant he had to be better. Ok, so routine said tidy the room for the cleaners’, dress, then head down for breakfast.
No Special Curriculum class until this afternoon, though he understood he could also elect to train after school any night if he wanted. So just a morning of school to survive first
Downstairs, Gustav Amadeus Jaeger ran into Chris’ already filling up his plate with bacon and eggs. Seems they went in for a full English breakfast here, the food transported over from the school kitchen on thermal trays. Ah, all he really wanted was a cup of strong coffee; black, liquid nectar of the gods and patented all-natural morning elixir, delicious, his mouth watered at the thought of a cup or two of his favourite wake-up juice. Instead, all they appeared to offer was weak tea, milk – fully pasteurised in two varieties apparently and a selection of fruit juices. Blah! He then noticed that there was a container labelled Mr Jaeger on the counter. He opened it and saw inside a dark red thick fluid. He took a drink… No, not blood but some form of artificial substitute, high in protein. Ok, that should hopefully help him survive for a few hours until lunch, though he still missed his coffee.
He momentarily considered sighing contentedly and mock hugging the gifted vessel in appreciation, but refrained, and elected to play it ‘cool’ instead. Perhaps he could befriend someone in the staff room to help him with his coffee fix later in the term, after the dust had settled..?
As he sat down beside Chris’ at a table at the back of the room, a curly haired, slightly untidy boy approached them, “Hi I’m Shamus, though m’friends call me Sham and I’m your assigned guide an’ font of all wisdom for today. You’re both in Four Alpha, aren’t you? Have you checked your syllabus for today? You’ve got P.E. immediately following interrogation…” Seeing the shock on their faces he laughed,” I mean registration so bring your kit, I think it’s Hi-ho today instead of Bully boy so we’ll be in the gym rather than running around the field in the freezin’ cold.”
Chris’ couldn’t resist asking, “Hi-Ho?” Sham leant over conspiratorially, “Hi-ho as in hi-ho Silver, an ancient TV reference apparently because well, Ms Silver’s the PE teacher, meta, built like a… but covered all in shiny metal? Didn’t bubbles explain? You’re not meta-haters are you? Bubbles didn’t say you’d been upset at meetin’ her and she automatically outs herself to everyone, so she must have tol’ you about her being meta.”
Both quickly explained that they were not. “Good ‘cause wouldn’t want any more recruits for the ‘Keep Claremont Human’ brigade here at Albion House.” Seeing the look on their faces, he explained that the school cherished freedom of expression amongst its pupils and allowed them to debate any subject they wanted, including the politics of groups such as the Anti-Metahuman League, provided it didn’t lead to hate crimes or discrimination against others. That meant students were welcome to meet and campaign against metas attending the school provided they remained civil. Thankfully, it wasn’t a popular group.
Gustav couldn’t help but frown slightly at Sham’s revelation. How easily could he pass as fully human with his appearance? Could he claim it was due to a suggested fondness for the gothic and judicial application of contacts and makeup? Did schools have rules about boys wearing makeup? He didn’t like his odds: either about being teased or flatly accused of being a meta himself.
8:45am
The man facing them, taking registration was a Doctor e’Azam, a strange old bird. He looked middle-eastern, though his natural skin tone had greyed after living for so many years under a British sky. He frequently muttered in ancient Greek or something to himself and ignored any interruptions as he took registration. Gustav squinted and wondered if he might be a meta. How many of the teachers were metas here? They couldn’t all be, surely?
Chris merely wondered, given the use of tracker badges in the school, why did the school bother taking a list of who was present?
e’Azam also taught Ancient Languages & Cultures, which meant Gustav had a class with him after lunch, Latin apparently, whilst Chris’ was attending Ms Hooper’s Modern Languages class during the same period; French since that was what he’d been learning at his previous school.
Gustav wondered what the mental and grammatical gymnastic experience of learning another language would be like for Chris, being a living, breathing search engine. Did he just tune into Google Translate and soar through his class without a worry? Wish he was so lucky.
Meanwhile, Chris’ was having a momentary panic attack, suddenly realising that he would have to attend his classes without the comforting presence of the internet to provide him with all the answers. How much French had he actually retained? His mind was an uncomfortable blank when it came to French grammar.
E’Azam continued reading off his class list, “Maximillian Jackson?” A groan, followed by a vocal “Present, sir”, then “Gustav Jaeger?” Gustav nervously spoke up, “Here Sir” and as he continued to read his list. Several names later, he asked, “Lillian Ramsay?” “Here oh Captain, my Captain…” No reaction to the unexpected comment – that surprised them. “Chris Sett?” Before Chris could answer, the old man looked up from his register for the first time since the class had arrived, “and what may I ask is the Chris an abbreviation for? Christopher, Christian, Christobel, pray tell? I like my register to be accurate.”
Damn, seems not all the teachers were in on his identity issue, after all. What did he do, lie or? And if he lied, would it catch him out eventually? “Just Chris, sir, no abbreviation.” Doctor e’Azam stared at him for several long seconds; then looked down, “Pity, modern families these days no regard for tradition. Jane Simmons?” “Present sir” “Patricia Sutcliffe?” From immediately behind him, he heard “All of us are present sir” He turned and a pretty girl with short, curly hair smiled at him and winked. Growing red in the face, he tried to return the smile before quickly burying his face in his list of classes for today and school map. Gustav smiled darkly and chuckled quietly to himself whilst watching the reddening glare of his friend’s cheeks.
As soon as the register was completed, Chris’ sprinted for the changing rooms, needing to get there fast so he could claim one of the individual changing booths. He was lucky; he got in before any of the other classes and quickly changed into shorts and his rugby shirt – the sports vest the boys were expected to wear would be way too revealing. Hopefully he could come up with some sort of explanation. As soon as he stepped into the gym, he saw her, a metallic Amazon. “Mr Sett, Mr Jaeger, here please?”
As they rushed over, she handed them a pair of tracksuits and in a loud voice explained, “Mr Jaeger, I’m informed you suffer from a severe reaction when exposed to sunlight so you will be allowed to wear the supplied tracksuit with your hood up and wear sunglasses when you are outside – you will not be excused sports or gym. Do you understand? I will explain to Mr Blair. Ah, Mr Sett, until further notice you will also be expected to wear a tracksuit top. You will have the stupid tattoo removed, do you understand? Until then no-one and I do mean NO-ONE will be shown your foolishness. Nor will you discuss the matter with any of the other pupils.” As she threw the top at Chris’, she secretly winked. Well, at least one of their teachers was in on their true natures, it seemed. Chris merely nodded and tried to look abashed.
Gustav replied he understood and smiled gratefully; Silver had just provided a public explanation for his partial albinism, though having everyone also know about his intolerance to strong sunlight left him internally squirming with anxiety and awkwardness. He wondered how other people with skin conditions coped socially.
They quickly rushed back to classmates who were now trying to guess what and where the tattoo might be as the whole class began a gruelling set of laps round the gym followed by rope climbing.
Two sessions of Maths followed with recess in between, which they were both happy to find they were able to fully comprehend, though Mr Skyler took no prisoners as far as his class was concerned.
Chris’ tried to cheat by pulling the answers off the internet, only to find his access still blockaded, meaning he had to actually work at the answers. He really needed to find some way to get round the school security; otherwise he wouldn’t be able to ace all of his classes.
Recess was spent under the canopy near the entrance where they were suddenly ‘reintroduced’ to Ces’ Morgan and several of his well-muscled cronies who shoved them out of the way, as they headed round the corner. Ces’ deliberately pushed Chris aside, having intentionally walked into him. “Move aside you queer bastards, your time will come… And soon.” His friends laughed. The comment took Chris more by surprise than the assault.
“And yours has already come and gone, I suppose, has-been?” Gustav replied with venomous sarcasm. It was a knee-jerk reaction on his part as he stood there with his arms folded and highly irritated at the rudeness and nerve of these strangers. An incident, once in twenty-four hours, was bad enough without these reprobates annoying them for no reason; he was already running low on patience with the strain of just having to attend a school as well.
Ces’ pushed forward until his face was mere centimetres from Gustav’s and smiled, an evil leer that said I’m bigger, stronger and with more back-up than you. “Listen you fag, learn some respect for your betters, ok Whitey, or else we’ll make your time here a living nightmare. What’s your name anyway, Whitey?“ He stopped just short of physically poking him in the chest. “Come on, talk up you daft bastard or have you forgot how to? Or maybe your mama took one look at your ugly mug and threw you away before naming you, eh?”
“Gustav Jaeger” he said from between gritted teeth. Ces’ laughed, “Well Gussy boy, keep out of my face or my fists will be in yours, Kalpesh?”
He noticed the slight brown tinge to a couple of Ces’ fingers… Smoker, eh? So was this the bad boys club on the way to wherever the students that smoked hung out, possibly?
Gustav knew he couldn’t risk fighting back. This confrontation had to be all bark and no bite, as his father would say. He doesn’t want to be publicly outed as a meta, nor did he really want to hurt the bullies, just make sure they realised not everyone would back down. Without using his powers, all he could do if they started fighting or began throwing punches would be to just take it and roll with the blows. He couldn’t retaliate, as much as he’d probably like to. Couldn’t be worse than being buried alive for a couple of weeks, and anyway he’d just regenerate in the dark, in private a few hours later!
However, Ces’ turned on Chris’ instead, “As for you… You’ve already pissed off people, and we’re here to make sure you know your place in the pecking order.” He laughed as he then turned and walked away with his mates joking about teaching the little ‘queers’ who was boss around here.
They noticed that one of the bullies grabbed another lad about the same age as him and slipped him something that looked like his ID badge before joining up with his cronies around the corner of the building. The receiver looked upset, but slipped the badge inside his pocket as he walked back inside the school.
The bell rang, and to their surprise, they quickly found themselves surrounded and being sympathised with by Sham’ and several of their classmates, including Lillie Ramsay and the pretty girl with short, curly hair who’d sat behind Chris’ at registration. She introduced herself as Patsy as they headed back inside for their second session of Maths from ‘Skylark’ Skyler.
It was already proving to be a long day, and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.
Following a second period of ‘death by maths’, they had to separate. Chris’ headed to geography class taught by the tall, ginger-haired Mr Rhymer, guided by a rapidly ‘deputised’ Lillie. Gustav headed in the opposite direction, following in the wake of a sprinting Sham to their class on modern European history with the bow-tied, old fashioned-looking but extremely enthusiastic Mr Herne who made the First World War come alive with his tales of life in the trenches. To Gustav’s surprise, the class period went by way too quickly.
Lunch itself was provided in a packed school cafeteria surrounded by hundreds of school kids of all ages and sizes, including a petite, purple skinned, alien-looking female pupil who hovered so her head was level with her classmates. No one else seemed surprised at her presence in the school.
Despite an initial feeling of being overwhelmed by the whole experience, they found themselves being invited to sit and eat with several of their fellow students. Again, Gustav was provided with his special diet and drink, which resulted in several bad jokes, but he quickly realised that he wasn’t the target of the jokes, his appetite and choice of food were.
Afterwards, they both headed over to the Big House; changed into their costumes, only to discover that today’s first session of Special Curriculum consisted of an ethics class on why the HCP programme had been established and how it fit within the British law enforcement process. The idea of citizens having a power of arrest, an authority with its basis in the medieval ‘hue and cry’ was intriguing. They and the others in the class soon found time flew. Apparently, they both would have a written ethics test the following week, so they had to prepare themselves for that. They had hoped for another challenge in the Combat Testing Chamber, but it was in use already, by a team of all-female metas that called themselves the Amazons.
Then, for their last session ‘down below’, each member of the class was assigned a virtual reality pod and tasked with infiltrating a virtual guarded warehouse on their own, using their skills and powers. This task proved so difficult that only two students in the class were able to complete it in the time allotted, the young male called Cadet and the mysterious female in black, Seven.
After a quick shower, They rushed back over to school having missed recess and hurried to their classes; Gustav to Doctor e’Azam’s class and 40 minutes of conjugating Latin verbs whilst Chris’ was dragged to Ms Hooper’s class and a nightmare of trying to recall French from memory instead of accessing the information off the web.
They then joined up again for the last school session of the day – Art in the ‘turret’ as the rest of the students referred to Ms Hobbes’ corner classroom. Gypsy Rose, as she was nicknamed by the students, was a popular if ‘wacky’ teacher who wore gypsy-inspired clothing. Gustav couldn’t help but notice that she has a hand-drawn tarot pack sitting on her desk.
That evening they were introduced to all the extracurricular activities on offer from helping run the school newspaper and participating in the camera club, to the Geek Club (techie heaven apparently), drama and glee groups.
The clubs included a Hackerspace computer club, Science Club, Herowatch, a boxing club (which Gustav almost signed up for until he saw that there was also a jujitsu class run by one of the pupils), a drone flyers club and even a sci-fi re-enactment group (the Jedi-namics).
They couldn’t help notice that the Keep Claremont Human group also had a notice pinned up saying they met off school premises on Sunday afternoons.
The school sports noticeboard had everything from Archery to Rugby (male and female), a wrestling team was holding try-outs soon apparently and there were several 6-a-side football teams organised along house lines, a cricket team as well as hockey teams and dance troupes.
Gustav was interested in two after school clubs in particular: as his most powerful takedown meta ability required him to grapple, he considered joining either the wrestling or jujitsu groups so he could practice and develop skills and meet people. Sports were cool!
He also felt an obligation, in part because of his meta-breakthrough and his desire to better understand what that meant, that he should join a science club of some kind – he figured it would be what his dad would enjoy and be proud of. He just had to decide which one… Decisions, decisions.
Growing up Meta, UK-Style! 