Wednesday Morning
As everyone stood around the school courtyard in the freezing cold, waiting for the doors to open so they would be allowed access to their lovely warm classrooms, pupils hugged themselves and stamped their feet for heat, hoping possibly for the first time in their lives (or at least since last winter) they would be allowed into class early. Several of the students were chanting, “Come on, open up! Come on, come on, open up!” while other students were complaining that they’d wished their parents had enrolled them in a school where it was always sunny, like in the Caribbean or Mediterranean.
Gustav smiled. He was just happy that for the moment he didn’t need to fear the Sun. This wasn’t like an overcast day when the UV rays still managed to pierce the cloud cover and burn his skin, the Sun had not sufficiently risen despite the hour and as a result it was too dim yet to affect him, to do him damage. For the moment, he was able to walk around with his hood down, smiling.
It was rare, refreshing, and just for a moment he felt just like everyone else.
Carpathian winters were a lot colder than this but somehow this felt worse; damper, more penetrating of the bones, though his fathers’ goose feather-filled jacket – originally considered a hand-me-down, now a valued reminder of a loving father – kept him toasty. Chris was not so lucky. He was complaining loudly to everyone (and in particular Colin and Judith) that it was just too damn cold.
Admittedly, he was already in a foul mood. After all the fuss about bringing Ms Kitty back to Claremont had died down, he’d personally been pulled over the coals for ‘misplacing’ his second commlink.
Oh, they had accepted that his attempt to track the two Tobias sisters using his original earpiece had been commendable, and they accepted that he hadn’t intended to fry it when he’d unleashed his EMP burst at the Power Corps.
However, the deliberate use of his replacement unit to try to track the coach after it left the fairground had been unnecessary and even reckless, according to Mr Andrews when he’d found out.
Not only had the ‘link been apparently discovered and switched off before the teachers could track it back to their school, its use had been unnecessary since the others hadn’t managed to kidnap anyone and their origins had already been confirmed, if admittedly not proved. Its use became reckless after Chris had to reluctantly admit he’d already hacked and fully unlocked it before electing to use it as a throwaway tracker.
As a result, he’d potentially gifted them access to the school’s security and communications systems, which left the school vulnerable and meant the staff had to change all of its communication encryption protocols as soon as they knew.
As punishment, he was told that over the holiday period he had to design and manufacture a series of dedicated trackers in case of any similar need in future and told he had to litter-pick the school playing fields every weekend for a month.
Gustav was about to quietly tease Chris that his powers obviously weren’t the solution to his every problem it seemed, but before he had the opportunity they were interrupted as a small, unrecognisable female, lacking a coat and dressed only in her new school uniform came hurling over, unexpectedly threw her arms round Outrage’s waist and hugged her. NO ONE ever hugged her. Okay, maybe some other Amazons did when no one else was looking, but never by a complete stranger.
The other three stopped and stared at the miniscule new arrival. Long pink hair, oh, that would cause problems with the teachers, unless… She had tanned skin – was of Spanish or Middle Eastern extraction possibly, a ready smile, was evidently a first year though undersize even for one of them and had obviously just enrolled going by the newness of the uniform. She then turned and hugged Chris. Okay, it was official, the world had gone crazy. He sort of patted her on the head disconcertingly as Colin made an educated guess and muttered, “Ms Kitty?”
She stopped and smiled as she nodded affirmatively. “I was told this morning that I would be allowed to start attending school while the… ah, worker sociâl sorts out my staying here rather than return to the PITT. I will still be staying in the… as you say ‘Down Below?’ with Mau.” That had to be her cat. She’d refused to be parted from it and had been moved temporarily into one of the apartments below rather than the dorms until they could find out more about her. Unfortunately, no pets were allowed in the dorms and there was always the possibility that the Pryde Institute might send some of their students or ex-students to try to get her back. There was no sense in putting others at risk unnecessarily.
Gustav momentarily wondered if any of the ‘inmates’ were particularly allergic to cats. Perhaps that would explain the hard and fast rule of no pets? Was anyone attending the Special Curriculum programme allergic? She was living in one of the apartments on Sub-Level 1, to which most of the HCP students only had limited access.
What was surprising was that she looked like a normal little girl, ten, maybe a young eleven years old at most. No catlike eyes or claws, no oversized canines, just her pink hair made her stand out.
He shrugged. “Aren’t you cold, Ms Kitty? He noted. She turned her head towards him, tilting it almost catlike to one side, and muttered, “A little, but I am more scared. I hope the others in school will be nice to me.”
It had been a couple of days since they had returned to the school with her in tow. That had resulted in a very thorough debrief and several long phone calls well into the early morning as ‘Old Man’ Summers screamed down the phone at some lawyers he’d pulled from their beds.
Kitty then also hugged Gustav and Colin briefly, though a bit more cautiously – she wasn’t 100% sure they were who she thought they were, but her mama had taught her to be nice to everyone if possible. Her grandmamma, prayers to her name, on the other hand, had always told her to “walk softly and carry a very big stick.” She tried to honour both advices.
Gustav smiled as the diminutive figure hugged him. That was the second expected hug he’d received since returning from the fair. The day after, he’d caught up with Zoe as she was heading to lunch. He didn’t say anything, he just handed her the digital SLR Camera she’d dropped – convinced she would immediately blame him for stealing it. Her face went from sorrow to joy in seconds, as she realised that what was going on and, to both of their surprise, she hugged him.
Okay, it was probably just relief that she wouldn’t have to pay the school for a replacement camera and she ended the hug as soon as she fully realised what she’d done, but Gustav had to admit it felt… nice.
He quickly walked away after that, especially before she checked the camera and realised that he’d deleted all of her pictures of Chris and him and had replaced them with shots of the Dance-Off Platform and Outrage’s (or ‘OtR’ as it read on the winner’s board) champion score.
Enough daydreaming, he turned his attention back to the girl in front of them who was explaining, “Please, here at this school I must not be Ms Kitty, here I am Amalia Chelo and I am to meet a Christopher Templar who will be my guide for my first week of this wonderful school.” She fair bounced with excitement, which felt weird. School and excitement did not often go together in their minds.
Gustav was acutely reminded of his own unusual admission to the school, albeit under very different circumstances. While the magic, wonder and the unknown that was Claremont had mostly now passed, courtesy of demanding work schedules, unending routines and examinations, he couldn’t help but feel empathy towards her position and reaction.
She continued, “I hope the others in year one will be kind to me. Despite my change in appearance, I cannot hide that I am different. In my home city of Alexandria, my transformation was public knowledge. That is why my papa agreed to let me be schooled at the PITT, as he assumed I would be better off there. Damn the school.” She spat on the ground and muttered something in what they assumed was a curse in Arabic.
“Thanks to your rescue, I have been introduced to the one they number Seven and the one I have seen you refer to down below as Lady Arcana. They have confirmed that my transformation was not that of a Meta but was of a mystical nature and they showed me how to change back. Well, almost all back. My hair refuses. Mau laughs and tells me to accept I am as you say outed? That I am different and must accommodate and accept that difference.”
Gustav smiled and nodded in response, he had a feeling Amalia might need their help at lunch with Ces, his cronies and their ‘anti-mutie’ agenda. While the newsletter incident had been damaging, and his appearance a slight tell, it was likely that he was mostly outed too, and thus they were in a similar boat. Admittedly, Ces and his crew’s use of insults such as ‘poof’, ‘queer’ and ‘mutie’ seemed to be interchangeable in their limited imagination and used quite indiscriminately by them. Only Angel (and Zoe?) seemed convinced that they really were Meta’s.
Still, if he could help in any way to shield Kitt… Amalia from their taunts? He casually offered the location of their usual lunch table, though he was slightly wary that this may accidentally bring an inrush of snotty year ones to disrupt their usual peace. Time would tell.
She smiled as the bell rang. Young Chris spotted them and hurried over to introduce himself to Amalia and guide her to ‘Interrogation’ class, seems Chris was already learning the lingo.
As he walked to class, Gustav’s mind was still on his schedule for today. A meeting with Mr Herne during recess on failed rebellions throughout history would be followed by a session with ‘Also’ Rhan Down Below for his last two sessions of the day. While the others honed their combat skills, he would be engaged in a mental battle to defend his mind against being penetrated and controlled, sealing it against external mental intrusion and influence.
A skilled psychic, it was hard to concentrate in Rhan’s presence because of the sudden twitching of her head spines, as you were never sure whether the next attack would be mental or a flight of spikes. It didn’t help he had her for second period as well.
In certain lighting, it was easy to tell that Gustav was beginning to get tired. Large, discoloured bags had begun to emerge from under his eyes, and his face lined more than usual from the constant strain of intense concentration. Not that he had any trouble sleeping recently; he had found this new drive quite the motivation for good self-care. Nightmares of his father and breakthrough served to reinforce his current self-issued mission.
Gustav knew that the school was just humouring him in his aspiration of creating a new Carpathia, apparently believing that eventually, inevitably, he’d crack under this unsustainable effort and resign himself to being satisfied with becoming “just another UK HCP meta-hero.” Hubris and self-preservation be damned, this cause was all too important.
He only really missed the opportunity to spend more time with Chris at their extracurriculars that they had both been looking forward to participating in. In another life, perhaps, he thought sadly.
After ‘Interrogation’ was a period of art in Gypsy’s turret, followed by ‘Also’ Rhan’s alternative studies class. This week it was Meta-Studies and they had been discussing the realisation that Homo sapiens were not alone on the planet, that they shared it with other human species, specifically meta-humans though ‘Also’ hinted that there might be others.
The first Meta apparently appeared in 1909 with the American Meta-human Vanguard (who was renamed Captain Victory in 1917 even though he never actually fought in the war). Gustav knew however that the Russians disputed this, claiming that the Siberian Bogatyrs, the Meta brothers known as Zhelezo and Kamehn, had undergone breakthrough a year before Vanguard. No one knew why Meta’s suddenly began appearing across the globe in ever-increasing numbers.
He took his regular class seat next to Chris, directly in front of Rhan, which was always unsettling. Due to the special nature of Gustav’s secret training, both Mr. Herne and Rhan seemed to take particular delight in breaking Gus down, either by challenging his knowledge and ethics, or by the way of mental invasion. So naturally, they both knew almost everything about him, yet he still knew very little about them both. Something he would be looking to change, given their current importance to him.
Why was an extra-terrestrial acting as a teacher in a human school, anyway?
Gus was also distracted by his slightly alien, foreign “Count” reputation. To win hearts and minds, he’d have to purposely work on being more… personable. He’d have to start making a conscious effort to change, and quickly. He considered asking the advice of others. Chris was particularly easy-going and popular, it seemed. Of course there was always Angel, apparently the most popular person in the school, but did he really want to ask her for advice?
He got through the rest of the morning in a bit of a daze. Over lunch, he again texted Naomi. He tried to reach out to her, to try to bridge the distance that had grown between them, and to ask her whether he should ask to have a talk with Young Sam of the Balance about his father and again ask her to help him with achieving his goals.
Instead of a phone call or a visit, she elected to send him only two brief texts in reply, the first saying she was researching the “Sylvestri” connection and the second that she still wouldn’t support his ‘suicidal’ plans regarding returning to Carpathia.
The second message didn’t surprise him, she’d said as much the first time he’d announced his intentions. The Sylvestri connection intrigued him, as other than it being part of the Baroness’s name, the only other time he’d heard it spoken was when his father’s lawyer had mentioned the money his father had left him. This was being held in an account of a private mercantile bank in London, Banque de la Maison de Sylvestri. There was no mention though about her helping him to contact Young Sam.
He also knew he had to hold what would be an awkward conversation with the Amazon’s about his Dad, he just didn’t know how to bring up the subject with them or, if he was being honest, how he would cope if they had ready bad memories of him.
He did approach Bethany – she was, how had Mr Herne once put it, “A riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma?” The Amazons seemed to confide in her and trust her, even the Balance members all knew her by name and seemed to respect her opinion even though she was just a kid, only a year older than Ms Kitty. Her competence and confidence was downright scary.
She seemed to be aware of the Carpathian ‘connection’ and agreed she would have a think about his dilemma and get back to him, and to his surprise asked him if he had a picture of his dad. He produced the photo of them both that he kept inside his school bag and she took a snap on her phone, editing out Gus’s face, and said that she needed a few days but would get back to him. In the meantime, she confided that Sam was ‘out of town’ and he should not try to contact him for the moment. She then dismissed him with a smile as she turned and headed to her next class.
The rest of the afternoon dragged until it was time to head over to the ‘big house’ and his session with Rhan. She sat at the opposite side of the training room from her and focused – her powers were more subtle than most, not quite telepathy but more than empathy and he could feel it slither into his mind as he tried to ‘filter out the noise’ in his head – and failed.
Seconds later, he found himself growing angrier and angrier. He suddenly found himself becoming very emotional as he realised that he hated Rhan, with a vengeance. He recognised that she ‘enjoyed’ poking at and making fun of him when he wasn’t paying enough attention. She achieved all this by way of a one-way telepathic ‘conversation’. For her, it was easy as breathing. For Gustav, however, it was like trying to desperately wrestle with a conscious lucid dream.
Then the intense feelings vanished and Gustav felt relief flow over him as he realised the mental assault was over for the moment, and disappointment that again he’d failed to shield his mind from her assault.
He picked up a bottle of water off the floor, had a drink, then acknowledged he was ready to try again.
Growing up Meta, UK-Style! 