Track 9: Until the Seven are Supreme

For some reason, I was in a red-and-black sailor uniform. Not the military kind. That would be too normal, apparently. No, it was the kind of uniform a Japanese school girl wears, albeit a little more midriff-bearing than usual.

“What the fuck am I wearing?” I asked muzzily. It was a really good question. After all, I am a dude. If the beard and the flat chest wasn’t enough, the underwear was luckily tight enough to hide… other evidence, as well as be really uncomfortable. To be on the safe side, I quickly covered my crotch with my hands.

“Jacobs-san!” a perky voice called out. I looked up. Coming down from the sky was a woman dressed like a magical girl. Her color appeared to be blue. “You have been chosen to become the next Sailor Red!”

“…What?”

“It is a great honor Jacobs-san!” the girl said as she landed down in front of me, her stiletto heels clacking on the ground. “The Red Uniform has chosen you to fight evil.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, completely deadpan, “this is all so sudden.”

“It’s going to get faster! Cutie transformation red!” As soon as the strange woman said this (I keep saying woman, but she had to be around fifteen) the red schoolgirl uniform flew off and re-arranged itself into something very skimpy.

“You know,” I said, my voice a little higher pitched than usual due to the female-oriented G-string, “this is really not ideal.” I was now concerned that my hands were not covering my crotchal region well enough. It was made all the harder trying to balance on seven-inch heels.

“You’re right,” she said. She then snapped her fingers. My body started to change. My beard, armpit, chest, and… other hair started to fall out. The hair on the top of my head started to grow, however. Parts of me, like my chest, were starting to expand. Other parts…

“You unbelievable bastard,” I said, my voice changing for different reasons. “You bitch! You monster! Give me back my penis!”

At this, a distant laugh echoed. “It’s not funny!” I yelled, my voice now pretty much female, “Now give me back my penis!”

The laughing got louder. The magical girl said, “No, Jacobs-san, we have to stop Gingertron!”

“Fuck that,” I said, crossing my arms. This was harder to do than normal, considering that my new lady parts were rather cumbersome. “Give me back my penis and get me some sensible clothing, and I might consider helping you.”

“Oh, suck it up!” the magical girl said, “Look at what I’m wearing!”

“It’s a lot more that what I’m wearing! Now, would you kindly GIVE ME BACK MY FUCKING PENIS! I HAVEN’T EVEN GOT A CHANCE TO…”

As I yelled, the scene began to fade away, and the laughter increased. I realized that the reason it was fading away was because I was opening my eyes. I was really in a hospital room, lying on a bed with a needle hooked into my arm. I was right next to a window. Through it, I could see the sun rising.

However, that wasn’t the important part. What was important was who was in the bed directly in front of me, laughing her head off. It was, of course, Eliza.

“So you must be the Gingertron,” I said before I could stop myself. Eliza began to laugh even harder. At least she didn’t take offense to it. I looked around. There were six beds, three on Eliza’s side, three on mine. Eliza’s side seemed to be the girl’s side as Bai was in the middle and Oro was closest to the door. Oro was completely asleep, but Bai was sitting up, pretending to study the various medical equipment. It would have been convincing if the medical equipment was on or her face wasn’t bright red.

On my side, John had jammed a pillow over his head. It was hard to tell because he was on the far side of the room. Luckily he gave a clue to his identity by muttering something.

“Oh good,” I said, “Eric’s not here.”

What I didn’t realize was that the walls between the beds near the door were indented to have two bathrooms, and that Eric was in one of them. He burst out, bare-chested with a few bandages on his arms and head and some toilet paper stuck to his foot. As if this wasn’t funny enough, he then tripped. He then stood up and struck a super hero pose, legs spread apart, hands on his hips and his head turned at a dramatic angle.

“Did someone ask for The Entertainer?” he asked in a deep, commanding voice.  I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t the only one. Eliza guffawed, and Bai giggled. Oro, however, just stared at him.

“Laugh all you want, citizens,” Eric said, as he began to march down the aisle, “But I am here to help all in need.”

As he passed John, though, John spoke up, saying something that sounded like “Watashi wa anata no subete o korosu tsumorida”

Eric gave us all a quizical look. “Was that even a language?” he asked.

“It wasn’t Chinese,” Bai said. She was pretending not to look at me or Eric’s muscular chest, but failing to be convincing. Or maybe she was pretending that she pretending not to look just to be coy, I don’t know. I’m terrible at girls and I’m terrible at spies, and Bai was quite possibly both.

Eric continued marching down the aisle, doing his caricature of a superhero walk. “Anyway,” he said, “why would you not want the aid of The Entertainer, world’s greatest super hero?” Man, was he hamming it up.

“How much of my, uh, sleep talking did you guys hear?” I asked nervously.

“Ever since y’got into the ward, Nate,” Eliza said.

“Wait,” I said, suddenly horrified, “I’ve been talking in my sleep for how long?”

“About ten hours and three minutes at varying intervals,” Bai said. “I found it was very…”

“Erotic?” Eliza asked, her Cheshire-cat grin now turned towards Bai.

Bai glared at her. “I would prefer,” she said, “that you not mention things like that. Otherwise, we will test out exactly how well your healing factor works.” Eliza and Eric just laughed.

“Look,” I said, “can we just… you know, forget about this?”

“I cannot,” Oro said. “I remember every single moment of my life since I was two.”

“Not talking about this would be just as ideal,” I said amiably. “I mean, don’t you want to forget what I’ve been saying all night?”

No one said anything, but I could read their faces clearly. Eliza and Eric were smiling like they had some stories that they could tell for the rest of their lives. Bai just kept blushing and trying not to look at me. Oro just looked bored.

Then, suddenly, John yelled out, “Watashi wa watashi no kioku kara sore o masshō suru koto wa dekimasen!” We all turned to look at him.

“See,” I said, “John didn’t think it was worth remembering!” I looked down at my chest. “Does me not having a shirt have something to do with the stab wound I got?” I quickly pulled the covers up.

“Think they forgot,” Eric said, shrugging a bit.

“Anyway,” Eliza said, “It’s not like any of you need, per se.”

Before I could think up a witty retort, Mary walked in, pushing a cart. “Glad to see you’re all up,” she said. “Now, how are we feeling?”

I prodded the bandages where I had been stabbed. “Surprisingly fine,” I said. “This healed really fast.” Everyone except Eliza and John voiced their agreement.

“First off,” Mary said, “according to my… according to the inventor, the surgical glue hasn’t healed you.” Here she gritted her teeth. “According to the people in charge, you should be back at the Freshman barracks later today.”

“Oh, speaking of the inventor,” I said, “how’s May doing?”

Mary looked at me for a moment, then said, “Oh, yeah! You’re her first patient. Yeah, May’s… probably madder than I am at the moment. Apart from that, she’s doing fine. Want me to say hi for you?”

“Certainly,” I said.

Eliza frowned. “’Oo’s this May person? She sounds like a Double-A from the med school.”

“What is a Double-A?” Eric asked.

This was actually something I knew. “Double-As,” I said, “are basically people who already know a lot about whatever field they’re studying, or learn really quick. Balancing the fact that she’s a sophomore doing her own research and this school is, well, this school, May might be a Double-A, or she might not.”

“So,” Eliza asked, “did this magic glue save any of… of me victims?” She was pretending to be nonchalant, but she seemed concerned.

“Most of them,” Mary said. “We can’t really save the ones whose throats you cut.”

“What about…” Eliza asked hesitantly, “the girl ‘oo was alive? And ‘oo prob’ly wished she wasn’t?” I winced.

“You mean the one whose guts you spilled out?” Eric asked.

“Yes, you insensitive bastard,” Eliza said, shooting Eric a murderous look, “that bloody one.”

“She’ll make it,” Mary said coldly. “At least you aren’t Ulfric.”

“Oh,” I said, trying to defuse the situation, “I don’t think I got a shirt. Do you know where I can get some?”

Mary said, “Don’t bother yet.” She booted up a laptop on the cart, then said, “stand here.” I did as I was told. I must have seemed a bit nervous because Eliza giggled a bit at me.

“Now,” Mary said, handing me a metal plate, “I want you to take this plate and hold it behind your back.”

“Ok,” I said. When I did, Mary took a small rod connected to the laptop by a USB and began to run it over my stomach. “What’s that?” I asked.

“Battlefield ultrasound,” Mary said. “It’s a quick way of seeing if there’s anything wrong with you internally.”

“That is actually really cool,” I said.

“There are some drawbacks,” Mary said. “It needs a hard, conductive surface, otherwise the sound waves don’t echo back right. Also, in its current state, we can’t really hook it up to tablets. Part of this is how processor-intensive doing this imaging in real-time is, the other part is that a lot of tablets don’t have ports that could handle the data it sends. Also, its battery life is something like fifteen minutes.”

“Couldn’t you just do it wirelessly?” John asked groggily. While I wasn’t paying attention, he had sat up. He yawned and rubbed his eyes.

“Not sure,” Mary said. “I’d have to ask the guys who made this. They’re seniors, so I don’t really know them.”

“Might have something to do with how easy it is to jam a signal,” I said. “If something’s blocking communication, it would block these guys as well. Heck, if they’re sending a lot of data, they could end up jamming each other if you get enough of them.”

Mary shrugged. “That could be, I’m not really a tech person. Anyway, you’re done.”

“That was fast,” I said.

“That was just the recording,” Mary said. “Now someone has to spend a few hours looking at your stab wounds. By the way, how’s that doing?”

“I feel like normal,” I said, “your sister’s surgical glue really works.”

“For doing stuff like standing up, yeah,” Mary said. “She’s not so sure you’re in combat shape yet. Professor Zemylachka, however, wants to avoid any repeaters.” She turned to John. “Your turn.”

“Why am I being checked?” John asked.

“You got kicked a heck of a lot,” Mary said. “We want to make sure that there’s no internal bleeding. Also, try not to hit your head for a couple of months.”

“Ah,” John said, looking a little scared. “Here’s hoping I live, then.” I didn’t blame him. I’m not a doctor, but I know enough to be scared by concepts like “internal bleeding” and “second impact syndrome.”

Mary did a much more complete scan of Joh than she did of me. I only had my stomach scanned. John had his stomach, ribcage, neck, and head scanned. She also did both sides of him. After that was done, she said, “Ok, that’s done. Shirts are in the drawers behind your bed. Campus Security should come to escort you guys back to Freshman camp in the evening. In the meantime, you’ll probably be getting actual food for breakfast. If you’re bored we have satellite and Campus TV. The remote for the TV is on your bed’s arm rest.”

She left, and we began to turn to our own devices. We decided to watch the TV as a group. Eric and I both wanted to see if they had Cartoon Network or Nickolodeon, John wanted to go to sleep, and Bai and Oro didn’t seem to care.

Eliza on the other hand, wanted to try the Campus channels. “Come on,” she said when I asked why, “Don’t you want to learn more about this ruddy island?”

“Ok,” I said. “Why not?”

“Come on!” Eric said, “I thought we were going to see if Dexter’s lab was on!”

The people interested at the moment (me and Eric) gathered around Eliza’s TV. I, personally, stopped to put on a shirt. Eliza switched on the TV. It came on to the guide channel of the local channels.

“Well,” I said, “that’s a lot of TV.” Right on the splash page, the guide page bragged that there were fifty-five channels translated into up to seven languages each. The three most common languages appeared to be Arabic, Spanish, and English. After a bit of surfing, we figured out that if you wanted to get a specific channel in English, say channel 50, you would enter 50.3 on the remote. Not all channels were in all languages, and some were in only one. Those wouldn’t have a decimal place after them.

However, it was hard to keep track because Eliza kept flipping through the channels. “Come on,” I whined, “That AniPunk channel looked interesting. Can we go back to it?”

“No.” Eliza said.

“Seriously?” Eric asked. “They were playing Spongebob!”

“We’ve been in camp with no connection to the outside world,” Eliza said quietly, concentrating on what was on the TV instead of us. “We don’t even know what’s goin’ on ‘ere on the main campus and we run into it every damn day. Doesn’t that disturb you? At least a bit?”

“You’re right,” I said.

“Or you would be,” Eric said, “if that was not an episode of Spongebob I had never seen before.”

Eliza shot him a look, then turned back to the TV. Finally, we got to a news station in English.

“…sors Zemylachka and Blunt have announced the decided punishment for the rule breakers at the BTF,” a female student with a British accent was saying. A picture of the camp appeared behind her. “As usual,” she said, “Quarantine is in effect for the BTF and students learning there. However, the incident has made quarantine restrictions even tighter. Early yesterday morning, a group of students started an unauthorized fight, resulting in multiple deaths and injuries.”

“‘Unauthorized fight?’” I asked incredulously. “That’s what they’re fucking calling this?”

“Calm down,” Eliza said. “You knew what you were getting into.”

“I had an idea,” I spat. “I didn’t know how bad it would be. Seriously, over five hundred people have died this semester alone. This isn’t an education, it’s a fucking concentration camp.”

“Hey,” Eric said, pointing to the TV, “listen.”

Professor Zemylachka was now standing in front of the Administration Building, an old Gothic mansion-like structure. I didn’t like the look of rage on her face. She was speaking in Russian, but the words were being translated via subtitles.

“This incident,” the subtitles said, “is unacceptable. University law prevents me from terminating or expelling so soon after Fight Night, but I am still allowed other methods of punishment. The safety of those in NIU is maintained and the students injured will move back to camp soon. Rest assured, though, that I will make sure they will know that their actions are unacceptable.”

“Well, that sounds pleasant,” I said. “We’re fucked.”

“Are we?” Eliza said. “She might treat us fair.”

“Really?” I asked. “She runs a concentration camp. These things are inherently unfair. She could end up doing that thing really stupid teachers do where they give both parties the same punishment, even though one person’s the bully and another’s the victim who just fought back for a change. Seriously, fuck her.”

“You do not seem to like her,” Eric said.

“I really fucking don’t,” I said. “Can we change the channel before I punch something?”

Eliza nodded. After a few minutes of watching the news, we went back to AniPunk. Spongebob was over, and instead we were watching a Powerpuff Girls-inspired show about scantily-dressed, foul-mouthed angels fighting ghosts.

“Why are we watching sperm dressed as WWII GIs trying to storm a vagina?” I asked.

“I have no idea,” Eliza said.

“Oh, you’re watching Panty and Stocking?” John said. He grabbed a shirt and ran over. “It’s a friggin’ amazing show.”

“There’s more room by my bed,” Bai said. “I’m watching it, too.”

“Ok,” John said. He seemed a bit disappointed because he knew me and Eric better than Bai. He did try to remedy that, though. I was too busy watching anime and cartoons to really pay attention to him. I did notice he was doing most of the talking.

However, a few shows later, around lunch, a couple of guards came in. They were dressed in black police officer uniforms and were wearing sunglasses. “Eliza Henderson, Oro Okoro, Feng Bai, Nathan Jacobs?” We each responded when our names were called. “Please come with us.”

“What is it?” I asked suspiciously.

“NIU owes you lunch,” one of them said. She had an Indian accent. That’s when it clicked.

“Oh, it’s you two!” I said, heading towards them. I turned to the other people in the room. “These guys saved my life. Well, I suppose the medical staff here were part of the process as well, but…”

“You were kind of out cold when they saved you,” the male one said. I noticed his nametag said Mendez.

We walked out into the hallway. I noticed Eliza and Bai stuck close to each other. We were in a hallway with several doors leading to what I assumed were other rooms on either side. On one end, there was a heavy steel door. On the other, there was a set of double doors which I assumed led out to some sort of foyer.

“Follow us, please,” the other officer said. Her nametag read Gupta.

We did as instructed. Mendez and Gupta lead us past the double doors and into the lobby area. The lobby area, I noticed, was not very busy at all. We seemed to be on the end of a square building, with an identical hallway directly across from the one we just left. I noticed each hallway had heavy metal blast doors that could seal them off. We must have either been in an infectious disease ward or a ward for very dangerous people. I personally guessed the former.

The lobby itself included a reception desk and some seats. Two Campus Security Guards in body armor stood by the door leading out, and a receptionist at the desk. The seats were empty. Eliza gave one a subtle shove while making eye contact with me. It didn’t budge. They looked comfy, though.

“Well, this group looks more cooperative!” the receptionist said. She looked like she could have been a student. She had an accent that I couldn’t quite place.

“Was Trollbjorn in it?” Mendez asked.

“Who?” the receptionist asked.

“They bring him out later,” one of the fully-armored guards said. She spoke with a Russian accent and was carrying a SCAR-H with underbarrel automatic shotgun.

“Who’s Ulfric?” the receptionist asked.

“’E’s the scariest bastard you’ll ever see,” Eliza said just before we walked out. I could tell that she was flashing her trademark grin.

“You really want to see the look on that girl’s face when they lead out Ulfric, don’t you?” I asked.

“Don’t you?” Eliza asked.

“Maybe,” I said, “but you have a tendency to troll everyone.”

“What does that mean?” Bai asked. “To troll people?”

I jumped. This was probably the first time in an hour Bai had spoken.

“’S when you hide under a bridge and grab people by their ankles,” Eliza said casually.

“Actually,” I said, “its saying or doing something that you don’t necessarily believe is right, but you think will get an amusing reaction out of people.”

We came into another lobby. This one had some elevators. It also seemed a bit busier with people in scrubs waiting around reading magazines. One of them dinged open.

“Into the elevator, billy-goats!” Gupta said. Eliza, Mendez and I chuckled. Bai looked confused. We got in, with our escorts making sure their backs weren’t to us. They didn’t seem too worried, but I guess they preferred to play it safe. I knew for a fact that Eliza could make them very sorry, and I suspected that Bai and Oro were at least as dangerous.

The elevator dinged again. The doors opened to a massive lobby, about two stories high. Instead of going out the front door, however, we went in the opposite direction. We eventually left via a loading dock.

That led us into an alley way. Across that was another loading dock, with two Campus Security Officers in patrol uniforms standing guard. I noticed that all of them wore sunglasses. The two groups exchanged friendly greetings, then the second pair ushered us inside.

We were in what appeared to be the back room of a restaurant, the kind reserved for private parties. There were several tables and booths. Sitting at one of the booths were Ricardo and Li, dressed in combat fatigues. Ricardo looked bored. Li was just sullen.

“Hola, amigos!” Ricardo said, “How are guys doing?”

“Really good, considering I was stabbed in the stomach,” I said.

“Yeah, man,” Ricardo said. “Good job pulling through.”

Li scoffed. “I hardly think,” he said, “that his effort had anything to do with his recovery. Only an idiot would believe he had anything to do with it.”

“What my brother means,” Bai quickly said, somewhat apologetic, “is that with the technology here, there is little likelihood he could die.” She then added, a little coldly, “At least, that better have been what he meant.”

Ricardo seemed to debate something internally, then decided to drop the subject. “That’s cool,” he said, “anyway, have a seat. We’re getting that meal they promised!”

Bai quickly moved to sit next to her brother, then Oro sat next to her. It seemed a little rehearsed. I sat down next to Ricardo. Eliza then sat next to me, blocking my escape. Now it made sense. I couldn’t prove it, though. Even the nod she gave Oro could have been misread. Or imagined.

“So it seems everyone’s here,” Ricardo said.

“Almost,” Eliza said. “The most enthusiastic potential member is still not ‘ere yet.”

Everyone looked at Eliza in shock. “You did not…” Oro said. “You cannot seriously think you can control him.”

“What are we talking about?” I asked. Whatever this was about, it couldn’t be going anywhere good, especially if the missing person was who I thought it was.

“If I was looking for people to control,” Eliza said testily, “I’d’ve never invited any one of you lot. We’d be equals. In fact, if anyone’d lead, I’d do my damndest to get out of it.”

“Why are we inviting… him?” Ricardo asked, looking over his shoulder. “Even if you’re not making an army, he’s too much of a liability. Hell, he’s too much of a risk to have at a dinner party.”

“I don’t see why we’re arguing. My sister can put him down if he gets out of line” Li said. “She’s done it before, and that was with a broken leg.”

“The only reason I won,” Bai said, “was because I had surprise on my side. He is smart, and won’t fall for it again.” She paused. “That being said, I think he would be a good addition, if only for the fact that I wouldn’t want him to feel…”

“Snubbed?” Eliza asked.

“I suppose,” Bai said, “Forgive me, but I do not know that word.”

“Uh, guys,” I said, “what are we inviting Ulfric to?”

“An unofficial school club.” We turned around. Ulfric had somehow managed to come in and close the door without us noticing. That seemed to be a common ability among scary people. He also seemed to be quoting Eliza, down to imitating her accent.

“If you don’t want to talk to El Diablo,” Ricardo said, “don’t say his name.” I was honestly a little glad Ulfric had shown up. I wasn’t sure how long I’d have to wait to get answers otherwise.

Everyone eyed him warily as he grabbed a chair and sat down at the head of the table. When he was seated, Eliza said, “Good, now everyone’s here. We can start.”

Then a door opened noisily. In walked a blonde woman built like a model. “Hallo,” she said, “I am Freya und I will be your waitress today. Do not worry, the school is paying for your meal.” She then passed out the menus to us. We all thanked her politely.

“She’ll be back in a minute, won’t she?” Eliza asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Might want to bring you up to speed when she leaves to get our grub. Apart from Li, you’re the only one’a us I haven’t told, and I’m sure Bai’s informed him.” Eliza said, glancing at Li for confirmation. When he nodded, she continued on. “Anyway, let’s look at what they’re serving. Seems to be yank-style.”

I opened it up and flipped through it. There was so much good stuff: burgers, steaks, noodles, pizzas, sandwiches and even ribs.

“What’re ‘ese waffle fries then?” Eliza asked. Everyone but me shrugged.

“You don’t know what waffle fries are?” I asked. “You should try them. They’re kind of like normal French fries, but spicier and fused together in the shape of a hashtag. They’re pretty much the king of fries.”

“How many things do Americans cover in cheese and bacon?” Li asked. “Even some of the salads are covered in cheese and bacon!”

Ricardo suddenly asked, “So apart from me, how many of you guys have eaten American food before? I mean, like at an actual American restaurant.” I raised my hand. No one else did, but Ulfric giggled which could have meant anything. Ricardo smiled.

The waitress walked back in. “So, are we ready to order?” Everyone nodded. “Ok, you first, big man,” she said to Ulfric. “What would you like?”

We all ordered. Ulfric somehow managed to communicate he wanted two Double Back-Home Burgers (a double burger with cheese, bacon and onion rings.) There was a bit of a tense moment when he was told he couldn’t have beer, but he just changed it to water. Oro ordered a salad, Bai and Li both ordered Italian sausages with fries and a side salad, Eliza ordered Fish and Chips (technically Fish and Waffle Fries) and clam chowder, Ricardo, through fits of barely suppressed laughter, ordered a plain burger, and I ordered a rack of ribs with a double side of waffle fries. I also had a fancy bottle of root beer, making me the only person to have something other than water to drink.

“So,” Eliza said, once the waitress was gone, “I suppose it’s only fair that I bring Nate ‘ere up to speed.”

“You have my attention,” I said. At this point, my curiosity was killing me. Whatever it was, I was pretty sure that I should (and would) turn it down. Ulfric, Eliza and Bai scared the crap out of me, and I was pretty sure I should be scared of the others as well. However, I didn’t want to appear rude. Better listen first, find some excuse not to join, then spend the rest of my college career avoiding every single one of these people.

Li then immediately gave me my excuse. As soon as I was done talking, he slammed his fist down on the table. “Why are we considering him?” he asked. “We know he is a spy! How do we know he won’t report on our conversations?”

Bai nodded at this, Eliza looked… displeased. But before I could take the opportunity, Ricardo spoke up. “Man,” he said, “this guy, this guy I think I’d trust more than any of you guys.”

“Really?” Oro asked. I couldn’t tell if she was skeptical or interested. Whereas Bai was reserved and Ulfric was… unwell, Oro was downright unreadable.

“Yeah,” Ricardo said. “this guy I trust because I know he’s a spy. Just by saying that, he knows that we know, and that if he snitches on us, we’ll come to gut him. He’s also a shit spy, ‘cause I had him pegged from day two.”

“He’s still a spy,” Li grumbled.

“Yeah?” Ricardo asked. “What are you here for, huh esse? The only way you even hear about this fucking place is if a school employee or alum recommends you. Who recommended you and Hermana, huh? And why did they send you here?”

“Those,” Bai said, “are the kinds of questions that gets you killed.”

“See?” Ricardo said. “For all I know, you could be spies as well!”

“Enough.” It was Oro who spoke. When she was sure we had calmed down, she said, “Let us first hear Eliza’s proposal. Then, after the main course arrives, we will play a game.”

Thank you Miss Okoro,” Eliza said, still a bit angry. “I think that is an excellent idea.” She took a deep breath, then continued. “Anyway, this whole idea is sort of a support group. You see, most of us at the mo are in a rather bad spot. At Fight Night, we all made more than a few enemies. Enemies who’ve got access to weapons and training on how to use them. We start work on pistols in a few weeks. If one goes missing, we could be in a right state of bother.”

“Maybe for you,” Li said. “I could wrestle it away.”

“That’s assuming they pull it on you up close and give you plenty of time to react,” I said. “They could easily shoot you in the back from twenty feet away.”

“Or they could pre-cock it before they pull it,” Ricardo said, playing with his steak knife, “or they could find some way to spike your food. Personally, I’d stab you in the shower. Much less noise than a gun and easier to get. I could cut your throat before you even realized I was there, make it look like a suicide, then walk out before anyone realized what had happened.”

“You’re not helping,” Eliza said.

“Sorry,” Ricardo said. “This guy just gets to me.”

“Anyway,” Eliza said, “the point is, no matter how good we are, the people we might ruck with are smart, outnumber us, and only have to be lucky once. Nate could probably tell you that better than I. If it hadn’t been for the group ‘e’d be dead.”

That was true. Eliza, Ulfric, and Oro had saved my life. “Didn’t some of my other friends help?” I asked. “I mean, you guys really saved my ass, but you had some help.”

Oro nodded. “A group of people did come in. I believe Eric was the leader. They are quite effective.”

“But they almost didn’t make it,” Eliza said. “The more people you’ve got watching your back, the less likely it is to be stabbed.”

“Yeah, but how do I put this without offending all of you…” I began.

Ricardo shrugged. “Just tell it like it is, man.”

I took a deep breath then said, “I don’t trust you guys. I know next to nothing about most of you, except that you’re really good at killing people. Then there’s Ulfric. Apart from what you already know, publicly being in an alliance with him would just paint a bigger target on my back. Bai and Li barely even know me, yet they’re convinced I’m a potential threat. Seriously, Bai, the first time I met you, I felt like you were trying to figure out how to kill me and get rid of the evidence.”

“Can you blame me?” she asked.

“No,” I said, “but I do think it’s more than a little premature. Then there’s Eliza.”

“What did I do?” she asked.

“There’s the… surveillance.” I said. “It’s another set of eyes watching me. To make it worse, I can’t tell whether you’re a friend or foe. With Richard or Salim, I would know. But you’re so hard to pin down. Remember our conversation we had before the award ceremony? That was a good example. You come up from behind me, scaring the shit out of me.”

“The conversation was nice, though, wasn’t it?” Eliza asked.

“It would have been,” I said, “but I wasn’t exactly at ease. I mean, how many people did you kill the night before? I know it was a lot. Then, I made a mistake. I’ll admit, what I said was rude, but you looked like you were going to kill me over it.”

“I wasn’t…” Eliza said defensively.

But I didn’t know that!” I said. “I’d like to think that I could join you guys and we’d all be friends and hang out and eat ice cream together and stuff. But I don’t know what your deal is. Until these issues are resolved, until I feel I can deal with you all on a daily basis without getting an ulcer, I want to be as far away from all of you as possible.”

“That,” Oro said, “is what my game should address.”

“Also,” Eliza said, cagily, “there are …other benefits to this group. I think we all want to know what’s going on ‘ere. No reason why we can’t share a few tidbits with each other once in a while.”

There. That was why I didn’t trust her. I was sure the same thing could be said about me, but she had the tendency to try and eliminate all possible outcomes until the one she desired remained. She also seemed to be better at it than I was, and I was still unclear what her goals were.

I was about to explain this when the waitress came back in with the salads, soup, and drinks. “I am sorry,” Bai said, her eyes wide, “but we ordered the side salad, not the main course size.”

“That is the side salad,” the waitress said. She then set down Oro’s salad. “This is the main course size.” Oro’s eyes widened.

“It’s not that big,” I said, pointing at Oro’s salad. “Are you sure that’d be enough?”

Eliza stared at me. “Are you serious, mate?” she asked incredulously. She wasn’t the only one who seemed surprised by the comment. Even the waitress was looking at me strangely.

Ricardo, however, was laughing. “You guys have never been to be Texas, have you?” We all shook our heads. “Huh,” he said when he saw me shake my head. “I thought you would have been there. Anyway, I actually got that far north once and ate at a restaurant. The sizes are bigger there.”

“Sizes are bigger in Massachusetts!” I said.

“That’s famous for its seafood, right?” Eliza asked, starting in on her bowl of clam chowder.

“And its tech industry, being instrumental in The Revolutionary War, having some of the first factories in America, the Transcendentalist movement and pretty much everything to come out of Boston.”

“So you’re just a budget version of New York, then?” Eliza asked innocently.

“Nope!” I said, “We’re actually an improved, less pretentious version.”

The banter went on for the rest of the wait for the food. Bai even joined in a bit. However, I think we were all waiting for Oro to start her game.

Finally, the food came. Oro then waited for the waitress to leave, then said, “All right, it is time.” She gave us a look over to make sure we all were paying attention. “The object of this game,” she said, “is to tell us why you are here as much as possible without telling us something you don’t want to know. You can choose to skip, but that means you cannot be a member. If we find out you have lied to us, including omitting important details, we will punish you.”

“Fair enough,” I said, “do you want to go first or should I?”

“Why you?” Oro asked. “You don’t seem to join, anyway.”

“This way,” I said, “certain parties may be persuaded to not kill me anyway.”

“If it makes you feel safer…” she said.

“My hope is it makes everyone feel safer,” I said. “Anyway, my name is Nathan Jacobs. You know that already, but if you were wondering if it was a fake name, it isn’t. Senior year of high school, I was approached by two agents of… a non-American law enforcement agency that specializes in super stuff. Heroes, villains, mad science, that stuff.”

I paused for a minute. “I can’t tell you which one, but I’ve given you enough to guess. I’m afraid if I tell you everything, you’ll find the other two people I’ve been sent in with. That being said, the agency I’m working for is probably more interested in the school’s parahuman and research divisions. If you’re not planning on blowing up the world, I think I can simply not mention you.

“You see, they’ve apparently dealt with a lot of mad science and superdickery that can be traced back here. They didn’t out and out state anything, but they’ve implied that they’ve averted Force 2 and higher events that tie into this place. They’re also worried that there could be time bombs made by this place just waiting to go off. We do not want those bombs to go off.”

I paused. “Any questions?”

“What if…” Ricardo asked, “we had some… indiscretions in our youth. Maybe worked with the Cartels?”

“Then I don’t need to know,” I said. “Also, unless there’s something we need to know, I think we can count this as your turn.”

Ricardo thought for a moment, then said, “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a fight against a parahuman on purpose. I try to avoid killing them, especially the ones that travel in packs. Does anyone have a problem?”

Most people shook their heads. Li, however said, “This actually does not work for us.”

Bai elbowed him and said something in Chinese. They had a brief argument. Finally, Bai said, “We have some involvement with parahumans. Have you heard of The Final Prophecy?”

I shook my head. Eliza, however said, “Yes.”

“For those of you who don’t know,” Bai said, “around five hundred years ago, when parahumans were making their resurgence, seers across the world had a vision. In five hundred years, three powerful entities would come to the world and change it forever. Violently.”

“I see.” I said. This, in my opinion, was not in my job description.

“There are differences between the versions,” Bai. “But there are some similarities. For instance, every version of this prophecy states that one will rain fiery vengeance on humanity from the sky, one will raise an army of the dead, and a third can rewrite the very fabric of existence. They shall become gods.”

“My version said the one with army’d also have hollows or something,” Eliza said.

“Our version claims the Fire Angels have come to punish humanity for their future sins,” Li said. “The prophecies tend to have different details, but they have all the same basic parts.” He turned to me. “We will find these people mentioned in the prophecy, and we will deal with them.”

“Do you really think that they’re going to find these three parahumans here world-ending parahumans here?” I asked.

Eliza shrugged. “Personally, I don’t think we’re gonna find ‘em any-bloody-where. It’s like the Second Coming: some bloke says its imminent so everyone should come an’ do what ‘e says.”

“Maybe,” Bai said, “But if this time we are right, and they are here, this is one of the more likely places they’ll end up. We want people who have an idea what they are up against to fight one of The Three.”

“If these things are real,” Ricardo said, “you can deal with them all you want. I want no part of it.” He considered it, though. “Nathan’s employers might want in on it, and I can’t really speak for Oro or El Diablo over there.”

Ulfric and Oro both shook their heads. I said, “I’m pretty sure my employers want solider forms of information than a hundred-year-old prophecy.”

“Good.” Bai said. “This does not concern them.”

“That being said,” I continued, “If you should find one of these super-powerful parahumans and take a swing and miss, I will tell my employers what’s happening. I’m not going to fuck around with the end of the world. Hell, I might even contact them before you make your move so they can get a team on standby. Is that acceptable?”

“It is… much more assertive than you normally are,” Bai said. “And it is only barely acceptable.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I don’t fuck around when it comes to the end of the world.”

“So, you’re joining?” Eliza asked.

“Fine!” I said. “If it means keeping the world from ending, I’ll join the Seven Supreme or whatever we’re calling ourselves.”

“Kind of comic book-y, innit?” Eliza said. “I like it.”

Oro nodded. “My turn.” She said. “My story’s probably similar to a lot of people’s. I was in a bad part of Africa and became a child soldier. I left, and made a bit of a name for myself.”

“That does sound familiar,” I said. “Eric and his crew had basically the same story except…”

“He implied some sort of daring escape and that he’d taken a large amount of money?” Oro asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Are you saying it didn’t happen like that?”

“You are probably imagining something less dramatic,” Oro said. “I, on the other hand, left on the strength of my reputation alone.”

“Same here, chica.” Ricardo said, laying on the smooth. “Want to… swap some stories later?”

“If by stories, you mean bodily fluids, then no.” Oro said. “Ulfric, why are you here?”

“I like hurting people,” he said. “Someone realized I was good at it.” He then giggled.

“Yep,” I said, “that sounds about right. I’m going to eat my food before it gets cold.”

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Track of The Day

Track 6: Saturday

I woke up at around four, which is the normal time. I noticed that Eric’s group were all back, all safe and sound, the pain in my hand (as well as the gel in the bandage) pretty much gone. I also heard groans from all around, and I couldn’t hear that much chanting from outside. I got up slowly. When I did, I saw Robert staring at me balefully from his bed. He seemed to be trying to sleep, and intensely jealous that I seemed rested.

I took in the room. From my position in the corner, I could see across the entire room. The beds seemed to be mostly full. Some people were moaning in pain, others were groaning, others were sleeping, others were sitting up talking. Then, I noticed that Michael seemed to be sleeping, or at least, someone was sleeping in his bed. Then I realized that it wasn’t someone tucked in really well, it was a body bag laid on top of the bed.

“You realize we have the day off today, Killer?” Robert asked muzzily. “Which means we don’t have to get up?”

“Oh.” I paused, then tried to go back to bed. “Sorry.”

The problem with that was that idea was that I couldn’t. I tried to, but in the end I probably did more to wake up the others than just getting up would have. So I got up and quietly walked out into the barracks.

I made sure to avoid bumping into the various medical personnel in the barracks when I moved into the main corridor that separated the male half from the female half. As I did so, I noticed how many beds were filled with body bags. When I actually got to the main corridor, I noticed the two Campus Security Guards standing by the door, with what looked like black SCAR-H assault rifles pointed at the ground.

I debated internally whether or not I should talk to them for a few minutes. Then a guard motioned for me to stop. “Sorry,” he said with a slight French accent, “but you are not allowed to be leaving ze building.”

“Can you at least tell me what’s going on outside?” I asked.

“There ees only a few people left,” he said. “They should be done witheen zee hour.”

“Ok,” I said, “just waiting to see if any of my friends made it. They mostly live in other dorms. Everyone I care about in this dorm’s back, so…”

“So I’m not your friend?” A cockney voice quipped. “I’m right hurt by that, mate.”

I didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was. “We’re friends?” I asked sarcastically. “I didn’t know that stalking, blackmail and beating the crap out of people was something you do with your mates in jolly old England.”

I turned towards the women’s side of the barracks after I said this. Leaning against one of the beds was Eliza. She was covered in mud and blood, the mud spread evenly across her body, the blood mostly staining her kevlar jacket. Due to the jacket being unbuttoned, I noticed that the white t-shirt beneath it was still mostly clean and not ripped or torn in the slightest.

Her face, however, told a different story. She seemed defeated by something. Her normally mischievous look was replaced by the smile of someone who was desperately trying to find something to be happy about. I wasn’t exactly sympathetic, but I began to debate toning it down.

Her smile faltered. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I acted like a right shite, didn’t I?”

I nodded. “Kinda. If it makes you feel better, most people are still behind the curve here.” She brightened a bit. “I’m still more than a little pissed,” I continued, “and it’ll be a while until I forgive you, if ever, but I need all the allies I can get at the moment.”

“Fair enough,” she said, “Come on, step into me office.” She headed off, motioning for me to follow. I did, figuring I had nothing to lose. As we walked, I noticed that most of the beds had body bags on them.

“Unless things changed a lot after I went in,” Eliza said, “girls were just as likely as boys to be slabbed. However, for some reason, I got put in a section with all the silly little bitches who knew nothing about fighting.”

“Maybe they want some sections to suffer higher casualties than others,” I said. “You know, simulating an actual battle.”

We finally got to her bed. I realized it was in the mirror position of mine. “Reckon you’re right,” Eliza said as she sat on her bunk. “Right sick bastards they are, so it wouldn’t surprise me.” Something about her posture suggested she felt the same thing could be applied to her as well. She then shook it off, and then patted the spot on the bed next to her. “Sit, sit. No need to stand.”

I looked around a bit. I saw that on the bed behind me was a body bag. “No worries,” Eliza said. “I don’t bite.”

“You do have a tendency to stab people with bone-claws,” I said on reflex. I instantly regretted it.

Eliza’s face became very blank. “You ‘eard ‘bout that, didn’t you?”

“I made friends with one of the medics,” I said. “From the way I hear it, it was surprising anyone managed to beat you.”

She laughed bitterly. “I’m undefeated. You can recuse yourself, remember?” She began to get more animated. “Y’see, the bloody awful thing about being a feral is that you, meaning the conscious part of you, doesn’t exactly ‘ave the control over your subconscious that the average human does. Some wanker pulls a knife on you, you don’t get the option of not popin’ out your claws an’ givin’ ‘im a good slice across the belly.

“Originally, I thought I could learn to control it. Maybe through practice, maybe through meditation, maybe through medication, maybe through some combination. So tonight, combined with the fact that I wanted to win, I made quite the bloody fool out of myself.” She began to glare at the floor. “The thing I learned tonight? I bloody can’t control myself. I’m not… not a human. But I can choose the situations I get in, right?”

“To an extent,” I said. “I mean, you could have left after three people, sure. But sometimes you don’t have that option.” She nodded at this. Then suddenly, something hit me. “If you don’t like doing… this… why don’t you leave?”

She turned the glare from the floor to me. “Why don’t you?”

Seeing as it was the kind of glare that normally makes you try to remember appointments coming from a violent parahuman not fully in control of her own actions, I said hurriedly, “Not sure. I should see if I can get back to sleep. See you around, I guess?” I then hurriedly beat my retreat.

Needless to say, I didn’t sleep well. When the call came out for us at around six to form up outside, most people grumbled and groaned trying to get up. I, personally, was relieved. I really hate it when I try to go to sleep but just can’t.

We all went into the entrance. The camp commandant and head of Shadowhaven, an older Russian woman named Professor Zemylachka called out, “Form up, you svezheye myaso! Parade positions! Professor Blunt is here!”

Everyone did exactly as ordered. Parade positions are basically everyone gets into a group of fifty (based on where you sleep) and face the cafeteria. Today, there was a portable stage with a podium on it, as well as two bundles of flags on either side. Leaning on the podium was Professor Blunt, a weary look on his face. Standing right besides him was Professor Zemylachka. Judging by how rested she looked, she had gotten a break last night.

Meanwhile, our normally neat ten by ten rows were gone. A few were almost intact, some, like Eliza’s, were almost gone. Most were like mine, with around half the people missing. Between us and the platform was a two deep line of Campus Security. The front row somehow managed to seem at ease despite the fact that they were carrying riot shields. I couldn’t quite see what the second row was carrying, but if I were to guess I would say they were carrying six-shot grenade launchers loaded with tear gas and/or flashbangs.

Due to the formation changes, I had a new person right next to me. He seemed Arabic, and he wore an eyepatch, and had a scar on his throat. Without turning to look at me, he said, “You’re as dead as Amir, you Zionist piece of shit.” Anger throbbed through his voice.

Eric, who was to my other side, responded with, “Careful. You mess with Nathan, you mess with me and my mates.” He paused. “Am I making my position clear? Or would you like to retort?”

The person who I was starting to suspect was Amir’s second-in-command snarled, “I don’t have anything to say to you. You don’t really threaten me, clown.”

If Eric was going to reply (which I don’t think he was) he was interrupted. “Congratulations, maggots,” Professor Blunt said, his voice blurred with sleep. “You fucking did it. You survived and…” He stared off into space for a bit, muttered something along the lines of “what was I going to say,” then said “…You were really bloodthirsty. Fifty-eight point eight casualty rate, from what our medics tell us.”

He blinked a couple times, then continued. “So, what does that tell me? If I was an asshole, I’d say that meant ya’ll were just a buncha pansies or something, compared to the yearly average of forty-nine point nine.” He began to get slightly more animated. “But I’m not. And I was there. Most years, we don’t get four ferals or whatever the fuck Ulfric is.”

At this there was a high pitched giggle. Everyone turned to where the sound was coming from. There was Ulfric Trollbjorn, flanked by two heavily armed Campus Security Guards at the far end of the boy’s side. Apparently, somehow every person in his fifty-person section was either dead or in ICU. I wondered how many of those he had killed personally. I noticed that everyone seemed tense. A few of the Campus Security Guards even turned off the safeties on their weapons.

I noticed that even Professor Blunt eyed Ulfric warily for a few seconds before continuing. “And those of you who did go against… him all showed massive amounts of courage. Incredibly, a few of you are even standing here. However, there is one person I’d like to single out.

“You see, in no other year have I seen any newbie who could take down Ulfric. Hell, I kind of doubt a good chunk of our graduates could.”

Ulfric giggled again. Instantly, some of the Campus Security people raised their weapons to point at him.

“However,” Professor Blunt said, “We found one person this year who could. Why do I think that? Because I saw it happen with my own two eyes! Recruits, I’d like you to give a hand to Bai Feng!”

People clapped wildly. Apparently, people had lost more than a few friends to Ulfric. For example, the guy who had just threatened to kill me was clapping like a madman and yelling something in what I guessed to be Arabic. The TVs on the cafeteria switched on to get a clear look at Bai. She was leaning on crutches, but as soon she noticed she was being filmed, she dropped them.

Bai walked up from somewhere in the girl’s side, limping a bit. I noticed that she had a cast on one leg. She must have been in quite a bit of pain, but she didn’t wince. When the line of Campus Security stepped aside for her, a few of them saluted.

When she got to the platform, Professor Zemylachka offered her a hand, which she shrugged off. She was ushered to stand next to the podium. As she did, a highlight reel began playing on the TV. She apparently had only four fights worth showing. In the first fight, her opponent had gotten lucky and broken her leg. Contrary to all common sense, in the final fight, she had apparently chosen to fight Ulfric.

That was when things had gotten really interesting. She had managed, despite her broken leg, to dodge every single one of Ulfric’s attacks. Her return blows seemed to have targeted nerve clusters, temporarily paralyzing certain areas. Needless to say, I was impressed.

Professor Blunt immediately echoed my feelings. “I know I’ve already expressed my sincere admiration for your talent, humility, determination and professionalism,” he said once Bai’s highlight reel was replaced by an NIU logo, “but this time, it is on behalf of the President and NIU. You have done amazingly well. You should note that we have noted your special circumstances and have allowed you both time to heal from your injuries and we’ve committed to making sure you still are able to complete this course.” He then turned the microphone towards Bai.

Bai blushed. “No, no,” she said, “I don’t deserve it…”

Professor Zemylachka made a dismissive noise loud enough to be audible from where she was standing. Professor Blunt turned back to Bai. “I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree. But I have to ask: where did you get the idea to attack the nerve clusters? From what I understand, that’s one of the most difficult moves you can do.”

“It was simply part of my training before I came here,” Bai said modestly. “Also, nothing else seemed to be working.”

“Yeah.” Professor Blunt seemed embarrassed by that. “I guess that’s a decent reason for trying it.” I wondered if the good professor had tried tasing the monster. He then continued on, “So why Ulfric? Why do the dumb thing and go against the monster who’s killed more people at Fight Night than the next two deadliest contestants combined?”

“I had broken my leg,” she said, as if explaining the most obvious thing in the world. “My career was over.”

Professor Blunt shook his head as if he was hearing the stupidest thing in the world. “What do you think you are, a fucking horse?” He asked with impatient disgust. “A broken leg doesn’t end a fucking career. Getting your head ripped off by a kill-crazy giant does.

He turned back to the rest of us. “LISTEN UP, YOU STUPID ASSHOLES!” He shouted, his face going red. “IF THIS WAS A THEORETICAL EXERCISE, AND ANYONE SUGGESTED THAT SACRIFICING A HIGHLY-SKILLED OPERATIVE, WHO HAS BEEN TRAINED FOR NEARLY EIGHTEEN GODDAMNED YEARS OUT OF SHEER STUBBORNESS, I WOULD FAIL THAT MOTHERFUCKER!” He stopped, took a breath, and resumed shouting.

“THE ONLY REASON I HAVEN’T FAILED HER FOR THIS IDIOCY IS BECAUSE SHE HAD THE DECENCY TO GAMBLE HER OWN LIFE! AT THIS POINT, THE FACT THAT HER GAMBLE PAID OFF IS MEANIGNLESS, BECAUSE IT GAINED HER VERY LITTLE.” He then turned back towards her, and said in a very low voice, “You’re a highly skilled martial artist and really good at sneaking around. However, you are in the wrong program. You’ve enrolled in a program that can teach you nothing and are sorely lacking in other skills, such as common sense and self-preservation. Switch programs.”

Bai Feng looked visibly shaken and on the verge of tears. I had to admit, that was probably Professor Blunt’s intention. He then looked at the sheet. “All right,” he said, “Next up we have…” His eyes widened. “Oh my. Up next we have Ulfric Trollbjorn.”

Ulfric’s reception was massively different than Bai’s. As he walked towards the platform, his two guards pointing SCAR-Hs with fully automatic underbarrel shotguns at his center mass, people booed. People hissed. However, when he occasionally stopped to look at the crowd, people would fall silent where his gaze fell.

Ulfric also had a highlight reel. It was the most disturbing thing I’ve seen. There he was on the screen, killing people. Apparently, he was supernaturally strong, and everyone around him was made of cardboard. Bones were crushed, parts of bodies that should be attatched flew like jet fighters, and people were picked up and used like clubs to beat others to death. There also was a clip that proved how ineffective tasers were against him. He had just punched someone’s face so hard the people in charge had decided to actually pixelate the damage, then continued to beat the corpse. Professor Johnson told him to stop. He didn’t stop. Professor Johnson tased him. Ulfric pulled the leads off, and then glared at the Professor.

He actually looked me right in the eye, right before heading onto the platform. That was probably one of, if not the first up-close looks I had ever gotten at him. Now, I’ve known people who are huge, maybe not in that Sylvester Stallone-type way, but still, I know they’re no different from us regular-sized folk. That may be the reason why I never noticed the wrongness about him. It was hard for me to put my finger on it until he locked eyes and smiled at me.

It would have been bad enough if it had been a normal smile from a man I knew hadn’t even gone twelve hours since he had murdered dozens of people with his bare hands. It was the child-like… I don’t want to use the word innocence. Maybe lack of understanding… Anyway, it was the child-like lack of understanding of his actions that scared me. It was like he was a pre-schooler who had just seen his best friend on the playground after a long vacation. He then walked on towards the stage.

“There goes the most evil man I have ever seen,” Eric said. I turned. He had shuffled a good distance away from me, like someone had just said there was a bomb in my pocket.

“That we agree on,” the Al-Qaeda guy next to me said. He had also edged away from me.

Ulfric, meanwhile, was making his way towards the stage. I noticed that everyone there was slowly inching away, except as Bai. The TVs then showed the stage, giving us a view of Bai and Ulfric locking eyes, everyone else on the stage looking wary. Then Ulfric held out his hand.

Instantly, both Blunt and Zemylachka drew huge handguns, larger than any practical gun. The two Campus Security Guards cocked their weapons. Bai, though, took Ulfric’s hand and shook. After a firm shake, Ulfric leaned in and whispered something into Bai’s ear. Then he moved to stand right by her side.

After the Professors and the Security calmed down a bit, things fell into a routine. Professor Blunt would call them up, and announce why they were being called up. It was usually because they were very violent. Then, the person would be called up to do an interview with Professor Johnson. Then, they would attempt to walk by Ulfric. Ulfric would hold his hand out, and then, whether or not they took it, he would lean in close and whisper something to them.

The first person up was Ricardo Montana. He was a very smooth operator, from what I could tell. He was kind of like a young, somewhat beaten and mal-nourished Ricky Ricardio in some ways. He was able to joke with Professor Blunt and was even able to make Bai blush again. Despite the fact that his highlight reel showed how deadly he was, he still seemed quite likable, if a little cocky.

That overconfidence made him think, for some reason, he could charm Ulfric. For all I knew, he succeeded. However, whatever Ulfric told Ricardo made him go very pale. He then had the unenviable position of standing next to the monster of a man.

Next up was Bai’s twin brother, Li. Apart from the fact that they were both extremely fit Asians, I would never have guessed that they were twins. He was stockier, muscular, taller, and less respectful. He basically used his interview to get into a fight with Professor Blunt and didn’t back down until Blunt threatened to kick him out on the spot.

He also ignored Ulfric’s attempt to shake his hand, but Ulfric still called out to him. He did it loud enough this time for me to make out that it may have been Chinese, which was weird considering how white he was. Whatever he said, it was enough to make Li throw a punch at Ulfric. Li groaned in pain, and Ulfric giggled his terrifying giggle. At least a dozen guns were pointed at Ulfric before people realized that Li had hurt himself. It was at that point I became convinced Ulfric was some kind of parahuman.

After Li had taken his place next to Ricardo, the next person was Oro Okoro. Her skin was slightly darker than Eric’s, and her hair was in dreads. She was about the same size and shape as Li, but that seemed due to malnourishment. It was a somewhat disturbing theme among the people remaining. Also disturbing was how often she killed people with her bare hands. During her interview, through her broken English you could detect a bit of suspicion and hostility. However, she somehow managed to avoid being disrespectful.

When she walked towards Ulfric, she stood, looking at his hand for a moment. Then Ulfric said something. She took it and nodded. Ulfric said something else, and Oro seemed surprised. She walked to her place, as if she had been smacked.

Next up was Eliza. Professor Blunt gave her a pretty good introduction. “Now, here’s the event you’ve all been waiting for! During her second run, she managed to account for sixty wins! Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage Eliza Henderson!”

Eliza walked onto the stage to somewhat forced applause, like an American President giving a State of the Union to a Congress controlled by the opposing party. I guess Eliza had killed her fair share of people, but had also saved a few from going up against the likes of Ulfric. In fact, apparently her kill ratio was only about two in fifteen, according to Professor Blunt.

I didn’t pay much attention to the interview. After Professor Blunt compared that ratio to the average (one in five,) I had begun to feel a little sick. I had killed someone. It also wasn’t like it was some random person, either. I had also seriously injured another. Eliza may have killed more people, but she actually had better ratios than me.

Also, I was really confused about Eliza. She obviously regretted killing the people she did, but she had killed. In fact, she could have recused herself before she had killed anybody. Also, was she blackmailing me, stalking me or something else? Either way, it was creepier than I really wanted.

This was why Professor Blunt had to repeat my name twice before I realized he was talking to me. I kind of realized that someone was being called up, so I kept clapping. Then I realized that the camera was centered on me. I pointed at myself, a look of utter horror on my face, and Professor Zemylachka responded, “Yes, Mr. Jacobs, you.”

As I walked forwards towards the line of heavily armed people, I could hear booing mixed in with the cheers. Apparently, I was somewhat divisive. I was honestly a little too frightened to turn around to see who was cheering and who was booing. I was reasonably certain, though, that eyepatch guy had booed me. I also didn’t particularly want to look at my highlights reel.

As I walked towards the line of Campus Security, I practiced my relaxation technique, making sure to breathe deep while convincing myself that the crowd behind me was actually the crowd from my first improv night. I was still shocked, somehow, that Campus Security parted for me.

When I wondered why that was, I suddenly realized that, holy shit, the powers-that-be at NIU could know! They could be bringing me on stage to execute me as a warning to the other students. They already had the means to do it, and there was also the audience and…

I stopped, took a breath, then continued on stage. Honestly, I had no evidence that they’d do it. I had never seen them administer any forms of punishment, and if they shot me here, they’d have to worry about a bullet passing through me and hitting one of their best students or a guard. Besides, if they were going to blow my brains out, there wasn’t really anything I could do about it.

When I had climbed onto the stage, Professor Blunt motioned to stand so I could look down the row of violent nut jobs that the ceremony was supposed to honor, as well as giving me a good view of the violent nut jobs who weren’t violent or nutty enough to be “honored.” I could see that everyone on the stage except for Ulfric’s guards were staring at me. There was not a lot of love in the air.

“Nervous?” Asked Professor Blunt. I briefly wondered if he was referring to the little scream I had managed to choke back, the bug-eyed look of terror on my face, the fact that I looked like I was either going to faint or barf, or that I had walked onto the stage like a man being led to his execution.

“Nervous?” I asked with forced cheer, “When I’m surrounded by these teddy bears of human beings? Of course not!”

Other people might have laughed, if Ulfric hadn’t beaten them to the punch. His giggle was still as loud, shrill and ungodly terrifying as usual. Everyone shuddered.

“Thank you, Mr. Giggles,” I said slowly after the long pause that followed. “All comedians appreciate a good audience.” The audience laughed. I think it was the audacity of calling Ulfric Mr. Giggles that did it. Or maybe it was that I seemed to be the most frightened person there to a comical degree. Whatever it was, I got a laugh from people who didn’t have terrifying laughs.

“Thank you, thank you,” I said. “I’ll be in Barracks 3 for the rest of the weekend, performing my hit piece, ‘Hyperventilating into a paper bag: Oh God, Why Won’t It Stop!’ Please don’t come find me for more jokes!”

“Before you start performing your routine,” Professor Blunt said wryly, “would you mind answering a few questions?”

“Potentially,” I said. I considered saying something like my agent says I need a nice relaxing interview, but decided to go with “Go on.”

“So,” Professor Blunt asked, “have you ever been in a fight before?”

“Well,” I said, “The short answer is ‘no.’ The long answer is I have done Tae Kwon-do for about… nine or ten years, I think? I did my share of sparing then, as well as the hand-to-hand combat drills, but that probably doesn’t count.” I paused. “Some of the fights I had with Dickface did come close when the instructors weren’t looking, though.”

Professor Zemylachka’s head snapped to me. “Who is this ‘Dickface?’” She asked. “Killing other students is only acceptable when either myself or Professor Blunt approve.” A few people laughed at that, then realized that she was being serious when she glared at them.

“Y’all don’t know Richard Forrest Taylor the Third?” I asked in a cartoonishly fake Southern accent. I couldn’t stop myself. I had become a comedic monster, a stand-up train without brakes. “Come on, the man works hard to show us Jesus’s love by killing them Jews, blacks, an’ gays!” Professor Zemylachka turned her glare on me. “I… I don’t really like him,” I said in my normal voice. Professor Blunt chuckled. Professor Zemylachka continued to glare. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”

“Getting back to the questions,” Professor Blunt said, smiling a bit, “did you think you would be able to do something like this before you came to camp?”

“Well, honestly no,” I said, “I actually did not think I could do something like this. But you guys did help in every way you could.” I’m pretty sure Professor Blunt heard the implied accusation, he just ignored it to focus on the parts that would look good in the recruitment brochure.

“You see,” Professor Blunt said, “any one of you pansies can eventually become good as the people on this stage!” I was about to say something about how maybe Ulfric was an exception, but stopped myself. It wasn’t worth it.

Professor Blunt, oblivious to my thought process, continued on. “I want you all to remember that this little shit stain of a loser who’s never done a day’s work in his life can make it. So can you, you lazy assholes.” I rolled my eyes. Gee, thanks, professor, I thought sarcastically. Professor Blunt then waved at me to go on to my place on the platform. “Go on, get out of my face Jacobs.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, somehow managing to sound neutral and not say something incredibly snarky.

Before I could get to my place, Ulfric held out a hand. I put my hand in his palm, not grabbing because it was too big, and looked him right in the eye. His hand closed around mine, tight enough to prevent escape, but not tight enough to hurt.

If being trapped by a mass-murderer wasn’t enough, his attitude made the situation all the more disturbing. Someone as bloodthirsty as Ulfric should be an angry, bitter person. However, when Ulfric smiled, it was like he had never had a bad day in his entire life.

“You looked me in the eye,” he whispered, a slight Boston accent to his voice. “You’re very brave.”

“Trust me,” I said, “I’m pretty much terrified.

“You still let me take your hand,” Ulfric said, “and you know what I can do. You also aren’t stupid enough to think you can fool me.” He gave me a firm shake, then let go. I hurried to my place in line as fast as I could.

When I was in my position, Professor Blunt began to talk again. “Now that we know you are all somewhat versed in hand-to-hand combat, we will move on to basic rifle training this coming week. You little morons will learn how to load, maintain, and shoot standard firearms. We’ll also teach you gun safety if you assholes don’t possess any common sense.

“In more immediate news, you little shits get the rest of the weekend off. Meals will be at normal times, and you can shower whenever you want. Also, these seven will have their victory meal on Friday. And now without further ado, the best moments of Fight Night!” As Professor Blunt said these words, the screens began to turn on and NIU’s jaunty, militaristic theme began to play.

The images of Fight Night faded in from blackness as the music began to swell. People were beating, stabbing, and strangling each other. One of the more disturbing clips was of me delivering the killing blow to Amir. Apparently, the place I hit had a blood vessel in his head. I suddenly realized that I was still covered in his blood. I felt sick.

After several minutes of people I didn’t know, we got to one of Eliza. Someone had tried to use Amir’s tactic of throwing a rock. It worked until the poor girl got her hands on Eliza’s throat.

Instantly, three claws popped out of Eliza’s hands. One swiped across her face, the other raked across her belly. The poor girl staggered back, and Eliza fell on top of her, stabbing each other rapidly. I couldn’t see the expression on Eliza’s face but I could see her opponent’s look of utter terror and extreme pain as the scream died in her mouth.

I instinctively turned around to get Eliza’s reaction.

She was staring directly at me.

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Track 2: In Which You Get an Explanation

Ok, re-reading that first chapter, I think you might have a few questions. Some of them being “Who is this guy telling this story?” “What is this place?” “Is he some kind of spy? If so, who’s he spying for?” Well, I apologize for that, and I guess I can answer now.

My name is Nathan Jacobs, the kid with two first names. Most of the time, I live in Maynard, Massachusetts, on the East Coast of the United States of America. It’s quite a nice place, not the kind of place an aspiring mercenary lives. For one thing, it’s really quiet.

Too quiet, I guess, and not in the sense that you’re about to get ambushed. I mean, I love that town, but it’s the kind of place where most of the people have lived there for generations and everyone seems to be either middle or working class. Also, a good chunk of what you need is either in town or close enough so that you don’t feel like leaving it.

I guess what I’m trying (and failing) to do is blame my lack of direction on the town, or on anyone other than me. I wanted to do something that got me as far away from Maynard and my family as possible, not because I hated them, but because they were all I had ever known. I mean, if you’ve only ever lived in one place for sixteen out of the eighteen years you’ve been alive, can you really say you love it?

The thing is, I did have a plan. I decided I wanted to be a game developer. I loved video games, and had some cool ideas for a few. Then I went to a camp for that for two years. No one listened to me, and at the end of each session, I still had no idea on how to use the programs, unless you counted a growing frustration with them as “learning.”

That left me frantically searching for my purpose, something you apparently are supposed to have figured out by eighteen, despite not being considered mature enough to drink by the law. That’s when UNIX came to my school’s career fair.

Bizarrely enough, there was one of the world’s premiere paranormal law enforcement organizations recruiting in my school’s gym and sitting on a plastic folding table with a home-made cardboard display like they were kids doing a science project. I mean, the Maynard Police and Fire departments and the local chiropractor you can kind of see, but people who fight rogues? Those guys should have enough money to put on TV adds during the Superbowl, not have little cardboard stands with clearly amateur charts and hand-drawn anime characters.

I decided to talk with them. I mean, how could you not? There they were with the suits, sunglasses and single earbud and everything. Before I could say anything, the shorter one stood up and said in a slight accent, “Hi, we’re here from United Nations Investigations, Extranormal. We’re here on a PR mission.”

“So, you guys aren’t actually field agents, just PR?” I asked, feeling slightly disappointed. The other one, slightly taller responded in a British accent, “All agents have mandatory PR training. We are, after all, expected to work with civilians.”

“Did you guys make the poster board yourself?”

“It was his idea,” the British one said, pointing at the Asian one.

“And it wouldn’t have turned out so well if not for your help,” he replied teasingly. “I must admit, I never would have thought of UNIX-tan.” It struck me as kind of odd how similar they looked. They were both in their mid-thirties and dark-haired. They also looked fit but not buff, and their suits were the exact same. Also, the British one looked like he was going to return his partner’s needling.

To prevent the conversation from becoming derailed before it could begin, I held out my hand. “Hi, I’m Nate. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself sooner.” They both smiled. The Asian one shook my hand first. “I’m Agent Takashi and this is Agent Brosnan.”

“And please,” Agent Brosnan said as he gripped my hand, “no James Bond jokes. I can assure you I’ve heard them all.” Looking back on it, there was something weird about their handshakes. What I do when I shake hands with someone is I start off with a medium grip. Then, if their grip is harder, I grip harder and if their grip is looser, I grip looser. This time, I noticed with both of them what it was like to be on the receiving end of that.

“Kind of odd that you’re here,” I said. “We don’t get very many UNIX agents around here.”

“There’s a reason for that,” Agent Brosnan said with disgust. “Your country has the most annoying habit of not letting other people help. But when some other country has some nice, juicy oil you go in to ‘spread Democracy.’”

“Or maybe the US doesn’t let us in because someone is so rude,” Takashi said, elbowing Brosnan.

“He does have a point,” I said, “Depending on who we elect.”

“Very self-aware of you, Nate,” Brosnan said.

Takashi cut him off. “It’s a bit more than that,” he said. “People here, err, in this country, have a tendency to react badly to any kind of foreign power telling them what to do.”

“For instance,” Brosnan said, “one town in California threatened to lynch us if we attempted to recruit there.”

“There probably some Californians who could have predicted that for you,” I said. “But that’s why you’re recruiting in the US, right?”

“There are other reasons…” Takashi said hesitantly. “We could talk about in more detail when school gets out. If that’s ok with your parents, that is.”

“It’s a half-day,” I said, “so school gets out at 11:30. And I’m eighteen, so I don’t think I need permission.”

“Excellent!” Brosnan said. “Your town has quite a few lovely little restaurants that I would like to try. I’ll buy.”

And that was how I found myself sitting at the River Rock Café, eating a burger and listening to their plan for me. “You are correct,” Takashi said, “that we want to get more American agents and coverage. Your government is developing several anti-extranormal authorities, very good ones, in fact. That being said, none of them are quite enough to stop or contain a Force 2 Event.”

For those of you who don’t know, usually when two super-beings fight or an act of God occurs, certain pundits will label it a Force 0.1 to a Force 1 Event. The gold standard, apparently, was the bomb dropped on Hiroshima as it completely destroyed the city. The first time I heard of a Force 2 Event was Hurricane Sandy. People were arguing whether or not it was a Force 2 Event because it had destroyed a good chunk of the East Coast. The general consensus, though, was it was still a Force 1.

“But aren’t the possibilities of that happening really remote?” I asked. Brosnan was about to speak up, but Takashi leaned in close. “We can’t tell you that.” He leaned back.

I was about to ask why. Then I realized why. If they could tell me without any form of lying that there was no way a Force 2 event could happen, and in no way were there any close calls, he would be trumpeting it up and down the street.

“Oh.” I said. What else could you say?

“The reason why American coverage is so essential,” Bronson added, “is that any Force 2 Event or even a significantly disturbing Force 1 event can cause massive panic if not handled effectively. Based on, well, the previous decade, a panicking America can cause massive amounts of damage.”

“Trust me on this,” Takashi said, “America doesn’t panic. America wreaks vengeance.”

“Nitpick, nitpick, there you go nitpicking,” Bronson said, attempting to sound flippant. I had the suspicion that if I could see his eyes behind his sunglasses, they’d be screaming. “Anyway, there’s also the Domino Effect. Except this time, instead of Communism, we’re talking about panic. If a Force 2 or 3 Event happens in your nation without warning, other countries will get… excited as well. In the time it takes for the US to heal and for UNIX to get it, Russia and China working together, many other countries will be panicking. Imagine: the nations of the world frantically scouring their borders for potential time bombs, attacking each other in bouts of paranoia… Honestly, admitting how close we’ve come to Force 2 to 5 Events would probably be preferable. The worst case scenario then would be a few regimes being changed.”

I sat in silence, then I spoke. “So, I figure the long-term goal in telling me this is get me to college, take some sort of law or science degree, then I’ll join UNIX’s American wing.”

Takashi sighed subtly. “Yes,” he said, in a seemingly nonchalant way, “I suppose that’s the long-term goal.”

“Yuki,” Brosnan said admonishingly, “let him ask about the short-term before you give up.” Takashi stared at Brosnan in surprise. Then he turned back towards me. “So, what do you think will happen in the short-term?”

“Well,” I said, “there are probably dozens of arguments you could have used to get me on board.” I leaned in close to whisper, “but instead you deliberately came as close to saying that Force 2 Events are an everyday occurrence as possible without actually saying it…”

“Don’t whisper,” Brosnan said. “It tends to attract more attention than talking about something out loud.”

“Sorry,” I said, leaning back and raising my voice to the minimum amount needed for them to hear me, “It’s just… I get the feeling that was something you really shouldn’t have told me. Is that better?”

“Yes,” Takashi said. “Remember, it is better to hint than to whisper. Also, read and shape the air, don’t clear it.”

“Anyway,” I said, “telling me that speaks of… well, desperation seems too strong a word. After all, we could just leave here and pre… I mean, say we simply had a thought-experiment. But your… not-desperation, I guess, speaks of short-term. Do you want me to guess?”

“Personally,” Brosnan said, “I’m convinced, but I do believe Agent Takashi would like to hear an educated guess.” Takashi nodded. “That is correct.”

I took a moment to consider the phrasing. An educated guess could possibly be different than a normal guess to them. How? My best guess: if I just randomly said something out of the blue, even if it was right, I would fail. As any math teacher would say, I had to show my work.

“First off,” I said, starting with the obvious, “you seem to want me to start early. I can’t say you’ve offered me definite proof, but your strategy seems to be ‘bring him on board and hope he follows.’” I thought about asking if I was right, but something told me I’d fail this test of theirs if I asked. That brought me to my next point.

“Actually,” I said, “you’ve been testing me ever since we met, haven’t you? That’s another reason to assume you’re offering me a job right now.” I was annoyed, but in the kind of way that made me want to ace their stupid test, not the kind that made me throw down my half-eaten burger and storm out.

Collecting myself, I continued. “As to what kind of job it is, well, let’s think about what I’ve been tested for. You wanted to see my ability to see the big picture. I don’t think I did very well on that, so that leaves out being some kind of analyst. What I’m doing much better on is my ability to, as Agent Takashi said, ‘read the air.’ So, what you want me to do is something more… people-oriented, and quite a bit closer to the field.” I resisted adding “know what I mean?” I was going to shape the air, not clear it. Takashi smiled slightly. He had gotten it.

“As to where I would be doing this job,” I said, trying desperately to think, “I’ll need a moment to think that over. I’m pretty sure I have time to answer that, but my burger and fries are getting cold.”

“I don’t know,” Takashi said, “Do we have time?”

I kind of snapped. It would have sounded polite to a passer-by, but in context my voice was dripping with venom. “Honestly, unless I’m reading you wrong, you two have personally worked your way from Cali all the way here, searching for someone who fits your criteria. If you have that kind of time, you definitely have time for me to eat my food before it gets cold and disgusting.”

I leaned forward. As I did, I realized I was shaking with anger. “You know what?” I whispered dangerously, “I think you are desperate. Why? Because you ran out of candidates.” Takashi looked like he had been slapped. I leaned back, taking a deep breath before the dam burst any more. I really wanted to lay into him and call him out on his bullshit, but I wanted to win now, more than anything. If I exploded, I would lose.

I took a sip of my coke (or was it Pepsi? Screw it, doesn’t matter) then said, “You should eat, too.” While I ate, I thought. This made my eating slower than usual. So, I knew they wanted me to be a spy. The question was, who would I be spying on? I doubted anything in the previous conversation had any hints to give me, or at least none that I would pick up on in time. Instead, I would focus on what I knew about spies.

First off, where would they recruit me, normally? Easy, in every spy book I owned, spies typically got recruited in college or the army. People in college were young, so it would be easy to do a background check. They were smart, which was always a plus. Also, their major and clubs they joined said a lot about them and it would be easy to check that. So why target me? Or, in less egotistical terms, why target a High School student? That was a better way to ask the question, actually. They’d looked through a lot of schools to find a candidate, but it sounded like they were targeting High Schoolers at career fairs. Then I remembered how Takashi reacted to what I said about college.

“You don’t want me to go to any college,” I said in dawning comprehension. “You want me to go to a specific one.”

“I think he passes,” Brosnan said, “but if you disagree…”

“No,” Takashi said, “He got farther than anyone else. He may have lost control for a moment, but he got me off-balance, then recovered.”

“Sorry about that,” I said.

“Don’t be sorry,” Brosnan said as he reached into a messenger bag for a large envelope, “because you win!” As I took the envelope, he said, “By the way, Nate, we never got your last name.”

I smiled. “It’s Jacobs,” I said, “Nathan Jacobs.”

That’s when Takashi imitated the opening trumpets to the James Bond theme. Brosnan elbowed him. “Oi,” he said, “that’s my song, you wanker.”

I waited till I got home to open it. Inside were two flyers and two letters. The flyers were for a place called Nowhere Island University. They looked mostly the same. One, however, was the truth. The other was what you showed to your parents. I picked up a letter, the one without official letterhead. It read as follows:

Dear Random Teenager:

            Congratulations on impressing us with your skills. As you have guessed, we want you to infiltrate a very specific university. Nowhere Island University is not a normal higher learning institution. Ever since UNIX’s inception, we have been encountering their graduates in the field. They range from soldiers with training surpassing that of your Delta operators and SEAL commandos to criminal masterminds to disturbingly brilliant scientists. Recent intel even suggests that they have even begun to train parahumans.

            While it would be more expedient to destroy it, we believe that they have certain safeguards in place, mostly legal. The problem is that its graduates are everywhere, and many of them possess wildly different goals. Some are revolutionaries, looking to up their game. Some are criminals looking to make money. Others still are simply motivated by pushing the boundaries of science, no matter the cost. Even more disturbing is now a growing percentage seem to have super-powers.

            All of that, though, pales to the possibility that there are graduates of NIU or their projects unaccounted for. Some of these people and materiel could quite possibly be capable of causing a Force 1 Event or higher. Also, the possibility of having an ally educated by that place is quite an intriguing possibility. To that end, we would like you to enroll as yourself. The fliers included will give you the necessary information. We have also included a scholarship acceptance letter from The Lawmen of NIU, an alumni organization that is giving out scholarships. It appears they’ve offered you a chance at a free ride if you submit yourself to certain tests. We suspect you’ll pass them. After passing, you will then join the Elite Infantry single semester program, or “undecided,” as the pamphlet lists it.

            If you have any questions about the legitimacy of this operation, we recommend you call or email our tip hotline and tell them people claiming to represent the organization have recruited you for Operation Rider. We will not give you a number, since you will dismiss it as a lie or if you lose the letter, someone else will find it and potentially compromise the operation. Even if you decide not to accept our offer, we would like you to destroy this letter after reading it.

            One final note, as well as giving you the education, we are prepared to compensate you generously. Up to a hundred thousand American dollars for each semester you complete seems reasonable.

 

Hoping to see you soon,

            Your Handlers.

 

Needless to say, I accepted. I mean, if someone offered you a hundred grand to potentially avert World War Three, wouldn’t you take it? I did make sure they were who they said they were, of course, and they were legit. At least, as legit as you could get when hiring eighteen-year-olds to spy on a university. Surprisingly, the hardest part was convincing my parents that Nowhere Island University was the place for me.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I ended up in Northern Island University with nothing but a diary, a few pencils, and a pencil sharpener.

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