The campus had been part of Mayfield for the past 20 years, but very few had ever more of it than the eight foot, concrete wall set with reinforced gates. It had been built by Mayfield’s own John T Liedecker, noted businessman and philanthropist as a school for the then emergent psionic population to attend in order to learn about their powers and hopefully use them for the betterment of humanity.

That dream never came in his lifetime. The government put its full support and funding into the Psionics Training and Application Academy in Langley, VA. What Liedecker wanted to call the Mayfield Institute for Psionic Excellence had been left nearly finished on a lot in the Devonhurst neighborhood of Mayfield.

Only years later, when Liedecker’s son Vincent reopened the site and saw its completion, was the dream realized. Beyond the gate, four buildings of white stone stood upon a green lawn, connected by tree-lined paths.

A circular drive ran past the main building, which housed the classrooms and administration offices as well as the glass fronted lobby. There were already a number of cars parked there when a red hired van pulled up.

“Man, I wanted to be first.” Talia Coulmni Kaine, known to friends and family as Tammy frowned at the offending cars. “Then I could act like I owned the place.”

“There’s no need to show off.” Sandra Kaine, her mother, chided from the front passenger seat. “Everyone’s going to like you just for yourself.”

“That only works in grade school, Mom.” Tammy replied. Then again, she had always been well liked in school, unlike her brother.

Tommy, her father, unhooked his seatbelt, ready to get to work unloading the van. “In any case,you can’t tell them anything about Ms. Brant or Ms. Keyes, or especially about your brother.”

Tammy scowled. She couldn’t help but think how unfair it was. She had spent the later half of the previous school year hiding her newly manifested psionic powers. Now that she was at a school where everyone had powers, it seemed unfair that she still had to keep secrets.

It bothered her even more that her brother, Warrick, was hiding his own powers and his identity as the prelate Alloy. In fact, Alloy would be at the welcoming assembly and Tammy was under strict orders from parents and brother to pretend she didn’t know him.

That rankled her even more, made worse by the fact that the cover story among Warrick’s non-prelate friends was that Tammy was the only one in the family with powers, making her the freak of the family. At least everyone was polite enough not to bring that bit up.

“I know.” She sullenly looked out the window at the white stone building with its fountains and gold wrought lettering. For some reason, she couldn’t hold on to that sullen feeling. There was so much potential in actually going to a school for kids with super powers like hers.

The door of the titanic SUV parked in front of them opened and a humanoid mass of vines and leaves climbed out.

Okay, maybe their powers wouldn't be entirely like hers. The thrill of the whole experience quickly overcame her and she almost flew to greet the plant-kid.

“She’s not going to help us with her luggage, is she?” Mr. Kaine asked.

“At least she’s making friends here.” Mrs. Kaine tried to look for the silver lining, but then sighed, defeated. “Yeah, we’re going to be doing all the work. Good thing we bought a dolly.”

Outside, Tammy sidled up to the plant person as s/he was opening the back of the SUV to get to the obsessively neat stack of boxes stowed there. “Hiya.” She said cheerfully. The face that turned to greet her was nightmarish though it wore a friendly expression.

The mouth was wide like a frog's and lined with sharp tines that approximated teeth, reminding Tammy of a Venus Flytrap. A kind of shrub with broad, glossy leaves was perched above that, with vague nods to a nose and ears on either side. Two glowing embers of unknown phosphoresce peered at her from where the eyes should have been.

“Hi!” A voice like wind rattling twigs started somewhere deep in the being's chest and emerged through the thicket of teeth. “You a student here too? My name’s Michaels, Phineas D, but everyone calls me—“

“Finny!” A female voice bellowed from the front of the car as the front passenger door opened. The car sprang upward so quickly that its wheels actually left the ground for a split second. “Who’re you talking to?”

Tammy peered around the car to see a huge woman. She wasn’t just big bodied and she wasn’t just tall: she was a mountain in miniature, draped in a powder blue dress with a peak of gray-blond hair that grew past her shoulders and enough make-up that Tammy wondered if all that yelling might start a powder avalanche.

“Uh… me?” Tammy offered. “Hi.”

“Hello.” The woman said amiably before bellowing again. “Finny! Hurry up. We’re going to be late. Sign in starts in five minutes!”

“They call me Xylem.” Phineas whispered. He extended his vine-like arms, each tipped with three fingers resembling the marriage between green bananas and octopus tentacles to encompass the entire contents of the back of the SUV. With considerable effort, he lifted the whole thing and staggered back a few steps. “Ma, can’t dad help a little with the boxes?”

“You know very well that your father has a bad back, young man.” Came the reply. “Besides, you need to build some muscle; you’re too skinny.”

“I’m not even sure I have muscles.” Phineas grunted, and then whispered to Tammy. “Mind closing the trunk?”

Tammy nodded and did as she was asked.

“Hurry up, Finny, Morton,” Ordered the force of nature that was Louise Michaels, “We don’t want to be late.” The driver’s door opened and a short, balding man with a black mustache that looked like nothing more than a push broom scurried around the front of the SUV to join his wife.

“Maybe I’ll see you after they make me drag all this crap up to the fourth floor.” Phineas staggered to catch up with the deceptively rapid pace his mother had set.

“Yeah, see ya then.” Tammy replied, turning to her own parents, who were busy unloading her things onto a dolly. She had never been so happy to have them as she was after two minutes of Mrs. Michaels.

Unlike the Michaels family, the Kaines took some time reaching the glass doors of the Institute’s lobby. It was opened by a tall, spartan woman with short, brown hair and a blazer with the word 'security' on a patch where a name tag would normally be.

“Welcome.” She said with a smile. Obviously, she was trying to sound pleasing and welcoming, but her voice didn’t seem used to that. “If you’d please sign in with our head of security at the desk, he’ll give you your orientation packet and room assignment. After that, we’ve got refreshments over there,“ She indicated a few tables stocked with snacks and drinks along one wall, “and you’ll be free to mingle with the other families until the assembly at ten. You can put your luggage over there.” She pointed to a roped off area where other people’s boxes had already been placed, guarded by a pair of stern looking men in security blazers.

Mr. Kaine thanked her and they did as suggested.

There were already a handful of families there already, though only three besides Phineas were Tammy’s age. Two weren't obviously psionic, but the third was a girl whose body was made of stone, busy reading from a digi-book while her parents poured over the information provided in the orientation packet.

“Why don’t you go and talk to some of the other kids while we get everything else squared away?” Mrs. Kaine suggested.

That was all the motivation Tammy needed. She made a beeline for the stone girl.

“Worried that the security stuff will upset her?” Tommy asked.

“No, worried that she’ll take it as a personal challenge.” Sandra watched her daughter’s progress across the lobby with a smile on her face.

“I see your point.” Tommy replied.

Together they approached the desk manned by the head of security as he finished speaking with the Michaels family. “Good morning.” He greeted them. He was a young, dark skinned man, too fresh faced for anyone to take for the head of anything. But the patch on his blazer proclaimed it all the same. “I’m T. Alvin Warren, Chief of Security here at the Institute. People call me Sarge.”

“Army?” Tommy asked.

“No sir, Marines.” T. Warren replied. “Can I have your name, sir? And the name of your student?”

“Thomas Kaine. And my daughter is Talia Kaine.”

T. Warren pulled open the drawer of a file cabinet set up next to him and after some looking, pulled out a parcel wrapped in thick, opaque plastic. “Talia C. Kaine. No special accommodations or precautions requested. She’ll be in room 309.”

Mr. Kaine took the offered package.

“The orientation packet includes security IDs for all the family members you’ve authorized for visits in your entry forms as well as maps of the campus for student and parents, a class guide, your student’s computer login and password to our local network, room keys, and a guide to proper precautions designed to help you be at ease with allowing your student to attend a school for psionics in the wake of the PTAA scandal.”

“How exactly do you propose to do that?” She asked, trying to sound as critical and disbelieving as possible. Though her husband was the actor, Sandra also loved playing parts and she felt obligated to act concerned, despite personally knowing two of the three main figures behind the school and having come to trust them implicitly.

“For one, unless you sign to opt out of it, we require our students to complete a voice call once a week to a parent of guardian. We encourage families to come up with private keywords and phrases as well as variable time of call to confirm that the call is genuine.”

Even though both of the Kaines knew about the Academy’s previous efforts in falsifying correspondence between students and parents, it still sent a shiver down their spine to see the lengths needed to make sure it was being avoided.

“What about off campus?” Tommy asked. “I remember something mentioned about a curfew. That implies that the students are allowed to leave campus?”

T. Warren nodded. “That’s true sir, but rest assured even outside these walls, your students are safe. Every student is supplied with a phone number they can add to any cellular phone speed dial that sends out a distress signal. All student IDs also have a silent homing beacon that can be activated as a panic button. At parental or student requests, we can also furnish our students with additional concealed beacons and panic buttons. All panic buttons trigger an alert for two mobile security teams stationed in the city as well as the local prelates—you may have heard of the Descendants?”

“Yes, actually.” Sandra said, “I’ve heard they’re rather good at what they do.”

Across the room, Tammy plopped down in the seat next to the stone girl. “Hi.” She said, marveling at the other girl’s strange physiology. “What’s that you’re reading?”

A face composed of smooth, sandstone pebbles with extrusions of granite glanced at her with eyes like polished opal. “Sherlock Holmes” A bit of uneasiness came through in her tone. She didn't like being gawked at. “I’m Arkose.” She extended a hand.

Tammy shook it. “Is that another nickname? The plant guy over there called himself Pylon or something.” It occurred to her that she couldn’t go by The Spark at school for the same reason that she couldn’t identify Alloy as her brother. “Think I need one?”

“It helps sometimes.” Arkose’s eyes drifted back toward her reader, not that Tammy could tell given her lack of pupils.

“Maybe something like Power Surge or Ampere…” Tammy considered. “I’ve got electric powers, see? What’s your real name, by the way?”

“Rose. Abernathy.” Arkose said flatly. She had really been enjoying her book.

“Hey!” Both Arkose and Tammy looked up to see another girl grinning at them. She wore her hair in a high pony tail and her T-shirt read ‘Vegetarian – Cows and chickens are dumb enough to count as vegetables, right?’ above a picture of a cow and a chicken growing on a corn stalk, wearing dunce caps. “You guys look like freshmen too. Either of you in room 307?”

“305.” Arkose said.

“No idea.” Tammy said. “I’m Tammy, by the way and this is Ark-rose.”

“Arkose. It’s a kind of rock formation.”

“Arkose. Sorry.” Tammy said sheepishly. “What’s your name?”

The newcomer smiled and her shirt shifted colors and wording to say ‘Your Message Here: $20’ in block letters. “I’m Kura Akagi.”

“That’s Japanese, right?” Tammy had an extremely vague grasp of other cultures, all viewed through the muddled lens of pop culture. “Am I supposed to call you Kura or Akagi?”

Kura snorted. “Good effort, but my family’s been in America for like forever. I’m just Kura. So what do you guys do?”

Arkose gave Kura an ‘are you kidding me?’ look. “I’m made of rock.” She said.

Kura caught the look and shrugged, “Had to ask! You could do other things, or you might be super-strong, or can shift back and forth… There’s a lot of things you could do.”

“I shoot lightning.” Tammy interjected. “Well, I can make lightning shoot off metal stuff.”

Kura grinned her approval and gave a thumbs up. Her shirt turned dark blue with white lettering. ‘Take a guess what I can do’ It read.

Arkose was not impressed, but she kept it to herself. Tammy was riveted. “Nice!” She exclaimed, “Can you do that to things other than the shirt?”

“Pretty much everything.” Kura shrugged. “Actually, I've got a lot of powers, but I can’t do a whole lot of at once.”

-- • --

“Kura Akagi, huh? What does your magical database tell you about her?” Glory Duvall sat in the passenger seat of a large, white town car, dressed in a dark red business suit, looking at a picture of Kura on what would have been the GPS and weather alert screen on a normal car.

“There’s nothing magical about it.” Beside her in the driver’s seat, Faith Duvall typed with alarming speed with one hand as she held a fast food cup in the other. She was her elder sister’s polar opposite; where Glory was an elegant and voluptuous blond, Faith was a slouching, emaciated woman with dark brown hair kept ruthlessly short. She was dressed in jeans, a plain white tee and a flannel shirt left open over top of that. “The Academy student records were public under the Awareness of Threatening Powers Act up until it was struck down a few years ago. And once anything becomes public, it stays there, not matter how much they try to scrub it.”

“I’m very impressed with your talents,” Glory tried to put it lightly, but it still came off as gloating that she manifested psionic powers and Faith didn’t. She distracted herself by watching Charity helping their youngest sister, Joy get her things out of the trunk. “But I’m more concerned about knowing the people our sister will be spending her time with.”

“You could just talk to them.” Faith chided, but continued calling up the requested info. She ignored the look Glory gave her. “Here we are; No juvenile record, terrible attendance record, Fantasy Club, Choir… Oh my…”

“’Oh my’ for the choir?” Glory asked.

“No,” Faith said, looking rather surprised, “I just called up the profile on her power evaluation—which has since been sealed by the Secretary of the Interior.”

“What.” Glory looked at the picture still in the corner of the screen. “That girl? What can she possibly do? We just heard—“

“Limited range, limited intensity, limited effect… but infinite applications. Glory, the things she’s been shown to do in her evaluation courses is a laundry list of pretty much every ability I’ve heard of people having.”

“Try and explain this in fewer words, Faith; you’re doing ‘it’ again.” Glory said. She loved her sister, but she hated when she got over excited and dumped words upon words with little clarification.

Faith sighed. “I’ll just read you some highlights: She can alter the light reflection/refraction rate of any item she touches within the visible spectrum; She has telekinetic ability out to six feet with a one pound weight limit, the ability to hover up to three inches off the ground; limited shapeshifting – hair, eye and skin color; object creation -- up to four ounces of inert matter that can keep it’s shape for up to forty-five seconds before dissipating, control of her local environment’s ambient temperature up to three degrees centigrade—“

“Those are all adorable parlor tricks, I’m sure, Faith,” Glory dismissed her sister’s rambling. “but none of that sounds worth the Secretary of the Interior taking an interest.”

Taking a long pull of her soda, Faith tried to explain, “Think of it this way, Glory; powers are hereditary…” She considered her own heritage, “To a point. But how those powers manifest or how powerful they are is a biological crapshoot.”

Glory saw that Joy and Charity were ready to go and gestured for Faith to wrap it up.

“They’re not concerned about her, they’re concerned about any future kid she might have or someone outfitted with her DNA.”

Understanding grew on Glory’s face. “That fits with what we’ve heard from Chastity in New York. I’m willing to wager that this Akagi girl isn’t the only one that would have value to Tome.”

“Which explains Father’s interest in this school.” Faith said. “But I’m not so sure about using Joy as bait.”

Glory gave her an assuring smile. “That is why you’ll be there to look after her. You did manage to properly falsify the documents you gave to Liedecker’s people?”

Faith scoffed. “No problem. They may be rock solid with their physical security, but judging by how easy it was to link into the lobby cameras;“ She nodded to the live screen grab of Kura they’d been looking at, “We have nothing to worry about.”

Vincent Liedecker sat in the administrator’s office, watching the graphics Rick Charlotte was putting up on the screen. “Now, Mr. Charlotte, you are absolutely sure that's the car our playful hacker is broadcasting from?”

“Yes sir, Mr. Liedecker.” Rick’s voice replied over the speakers. “The rerouting and encryption they’re using is pretty damn impressive, but the new magi-tech set-up is working shiny. Who would have through a universal translator would be a codebreaker too?”

“That’s what ‘universal’ translator means, Charlotte.” Liedecker said dryly. “Now, this name the car is registered to—Glory Duvall—can you do me a favor and find me the name of her daddy.”

There was a brief pause as Charlotte did so. The name and image of St. John Duvall appeared.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Liedecker muttered. He didn’t know whether to be nostalgic or suspicious. Suspicious, however, was his natural state.

“The name rings a bell?” Vorpal was sitting across from him, unmasked in his sight for the first time. Somehow, some of the aura of danger she normally projected was blunted without the mask. Liedecker wondered if it was the loss of anonymity or the fact that she was without the mask in payment to him that was doing it.

“Indeed it does, and not because his first name is your girl’s last name either.” Liedecker said, leaning back in his chair. “I met him around the time I started working for my father; came around once every few months looking for venture capitol in all these start ups… all of them dealing with studying psionics.”

“The Academy.” Vorpal hissed, momentarily regaining her previous edge.

“No.” Liedecker shook his head, “No. He had the gene, you see? He wanted to turn it on in himself. Back then we didn’t know you couldn’t.”

“And now his daughter is spying on a school for psionics?” Vorpal asked, “That doesn’t sound like a coincidence to me.”

“Actually,” Rick said over the speakers, “I checked with the front gate. They’re not just here to jack into our lobby cameras; they’re dropping off a student. Patching you to the front drive camera now, sir.”

On the screen, Glory Duvall and an almost freakishly tall girl were carrying boxes alongside a young girl that seemed to be partly half a dozen animals at once.

“The woman in the suit is Glory.” Rick reported. “The tall one is Charity and the protomorph is Joy.”

Vorpal snorted.

“Hmm…” Rick said, “And cross referencing comes up with something else interesting, sir. It seems that their sister Faith has applied for the Computer Sciences position here. She’s even made it to Ms. Keyes’s short list because she’s had experience with her psionic sisters, Glory, Patience, and Joy.”

“Just how many children did Duvall have?” Vorpal asked, disgusted.

“Seven that he claims.” Rick replied. “All girls. Plus at least three paternity suits – all boys.”

Vorpal cocked her head to the side, her mind working overtime. “… because females have a higher chance to manifest psionic powers.” Liedecker gave her a look that asked her to continue. “About ninety percent of the mutations that result in psionic powers are on the X chromosome. Females have two X’s, so if both parents are carriers, they have two sets of psionics genes to express.”

“Whereas a boy can only have one.” Liedecker finished for her. “Duvall was just the kind of desperate man to try and live through his children.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” Vorpal asked reproachfully. She was the only person in the organization that would even dare take that sort of tone with him. “Sponsoring this school? Taking in these kids? It’s not altruism, there’s a catch here.”

Neither one cared, but they could hear Rick Charlotte holding his breath on the other end of his datalink.

Liedecker chuckled, “You give me too little credit, Ms. Vorpal.” He stood up and came from behind his desk to pace the floor before her, looking for all the world to her like a lion in his pen. “You see, that’s where lowlife criminals, assassins, and terrorists fail; they shun altruism because they think it’ll get in the way of getting what they want. They don’t realize you can do both.”

He laid a hand thoughtfully on the bust of Hawking on its pedestal. “John Liedecker was my father. A great man. A powerful man. And in business, a ruthless man. If there was ever someone who made a dollar in Mayfield putting widows and orphans on the street, he paid my father ten cents for the opportunity. But with that money, he brought a reputation, which is better than money, and he used that reputation to help the community, which is good for business.”

Holding up a finger like a professor getting to his point after an hour lecture, he crossed the floor to stand in front of Vorpal. “And that’s exactly what this place is: good for business.” He leaned in with conspiracy in his gaze. “See, if these kids get picked up by those Academy goons, it’s bad for everyone. If they don’t get proper schooling because they’re on the run from the Academy, they end up in gangs as glass cannons, doing property damage and that’s good for my competition and bad for me. So I raise up some upstanding citizens, make the world a better place; and I keep my hold in this city.”

With a shrug, he returned to his chair. “And just maybe one or two of them show some talent I’ve got a use for. Then I'll be there waiting to put them on my payroll. And that’s good for me.”

He reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved his written welcome speech, “So no, Ms. Vorpal, I’m not after the same thing Project Tome is—whatever it really is. And I’m damn certain I’m not after what ol’ Duvall and his girls are after. They lack something that every Liedecker man since my many times great granddaddy came over here after the first World War: a sliver of damn sense.”

That seemed to appease Vorpal and stun Rick Charlotte into silence.

Liedecker smiled a private smile at that. “As for Ms. Faith… Charlotte, clear her on everything. The old sayin’ is ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer. We’ll let her see everything there is to the institute. T’ain’t nothing here to hide. But while she looks into us – we look right back at her, her sisters and her father.”

Phineas made a show of yawning. ‘Show’ in the sense that he pretended to yawn because his body didn’t breath in the normal sense and therefore didn’t yawn naturally. It wasn’t because he was bored either; not with so many interesting people to watch coming in and mingling. The truth was that he was pretending to yawn to show off the rows of thin, pointed ‘teeth’ in his maw.

He wasn’t the cherubic, chubby boy with the brown, curly hair he’d been in junior high, but the manifestation of his powers hadn’t taken away his love of spectacle. In fact, it gave him a whole new spectacle.

The upperclassman girl he had directed it at; a blonde with no visible signs of psionic manifestation, made a face and quickly turned away from him.

That was one downside to his powers: the terrifying visage. He’d only started really noticing girls after he’d manifested and his botanical look made typical boy-girl relations challenging. But then, if there was one thing Phineas liked more than spectacle, it was a challenge. He was already scanning the crowd for other girls when someone clapped him on the shoulder.

Much to Phineas’s displeasure, it was not a pretty girl. It was a guy. A guy that looked like he’d just stepped out of that summer’s latest teen heartthrob flick: broad chest, strong chin and a hair style that made the word 'coif' leap to mind. Even Phineas took a moment to register that he was also covered with thin, blue stripes.

“Hey.” The other teen said. “They said that you’re in room 321.”

Phineas checked the card he was carrying. “Yeah, why?”

The stranger flicked his card around so Phineas could see It read: Richmond, Jacob Alexander ‘Summit’ Room 321. “Looks like we’re roommates. My mom said I should come and say ‘hi’.”

“I’m avoiding my mom.” Phineas inclined his head to where his mother was no doubt berating one of the security detail on some minor infraction or other. He squinted at the card Jacob was holding up. “What’s ‘Summit’ mean?”

Jacob withdrew the card. “Oh… that. See, I was at the Academy last year, before it closed? And they gave me a codename instead of me choosing it.”

The embarrassment on his face was chum in the water for Phineas. “What was it?”

Most people would have put up some resistance. Most people weren’t raised like Jacob Richmond was. “It was…” He coughed, “Mr. Perfect.”

The sound of leaves fluttering in a violent gale was the best Phineas could do to approximate a proper snort of disbelief. “No, seriously. What was it?”

Jacob shifted his weight uncomfortably and realized belatedly that he was floating an inch off the ground. He concentrated and set himself back down on the ground. “No… no, that’s really the name they came up with. They heard about my powers, see and—“

“So your powers are what? Being strong yet sensitive and always remembering anniversaries?”

This got Jacob to laugh. “No, man. They mean perfect as in… I’m as strong as the strongest man, as fast as the fastest man... non-psionic of course. Oh, and I can fly.”

“That’s awesome.” Phineas said, with newfound interest. “So you’ve got the whole package: strength, speed, agility, intelligence.”

Jacob’s smile dropped. “Part of why my dad doesn’t think I should use the name.” he said more to himself than to Phineas. “I’m not very good in most of my classes. It’s like I have to study twice as hard to be a C student. My dad said I can’t call myself Mr. Perfect anymore until I earn it. And I think he’s right.”

Phineas made another leaf rustling sound. “That’s just not right. Dude, it’s the perfect line: ‘Hello, I’m Mr. Perfect. Oh, you have a friend? Well she can go with Xylem here.’ If your dad values grandkids, he will let you take that name!”

“Not everything’s about girls.” Jacob shrugged.

“You have to live with me.” Phineas held up one of his thick, tendril-fingers, “Never, ever disparage the ladies, my friend.”

Shrugging, Jacob skirted the subject. “Okay, okay. What’s a Xylem, anyway?”

“It’s a… biology thing. About plants.” Phineas said vaguely.

“Can I have your attention please?” Everyone in the lobby turned to see two women in their mid-twenties standing at the doors leading to the auditorium. The taller of the two, a fair skinned woman with black hair pulled up into a bun and glasses, spoke once she knew everyone was paying attention.

“Thank you. I’m Alexis Keyes, one of the Directors of Education here. This is Laurel Brant, my colleague. I’d like to welcome all of you to the John T. Liedecker Institute. I’m sure I’ll get to know everyone during orientation and I cannot wait to start working with all these wonderful young people we’ve gathered here today. But first, if you would all join us in the auditorium, the benefactor and administrator of the Institute, Mr. Vincent Liedecker would like to welcome you all here and introduce the staff that will be working with you for the rest of the school year.”

-- • --

As the new students and their families filed quietly into the auditorium, Alloy, Darkness and Codex waited in the wings for their part in the orientation. More accurately, Alloy, a reasonable facsimile of Codex and a less than reasonable Facsimile portraying Darkness waited in the wings.

“I don’t see why I had to play Darkness.” Facsimile shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She was whispering because even using one of Codex’s scanners to ensure that the wings weren’t bugged, no technology could keep their voices from echoing.

“Because I fit Codex’s costume and I’m too short for Darkness’s?” Codex/Zero offered cheerfully. She was admiring herself in one of the back stage mirrors. “Do you think I should get rid of my cape? I think I look better without it.”

“But you’d lose the hood and that totally makes the whole outfit.” Facsimile temporarily forgot her previous protests. “Though I’m kind of considering losing the whole ‘golden woman’ thing. Or at least I could add some golden hair.”

“I think you look really cool like that.” Zero turned back to her friend. “Not as cool as when Darkness charges up her black heat to fly... Can you do that?”

“Not at all.” Facsimile admitted. “But I can make my hair do the thing hers does.” By way of illustration, her hair began to twist and whip as if in an invisible wind. “What do you think, Alloy?”

Alloy wasn’t paying attention to them. He was peaking through the curtains at the audience.

“Alloy?”

He almost jumped at Facsimile tapping him on the shoulder. “Huh?”

“Watching out for your sister?” Facsimile stretched her neck a few inches to peer out over his head. “Where is she?”

“Fifth row, three deep from the wall with my parents.” Alloy said, letting the curtain close.

Facsimile let him slide past her and then took his place. “Oh, I see. Hey, looks like she made a friend. Do we know the black haired chick with the color shifting T-shirt?”

“I don’t think so.” Alloy said. “See? That’s why I should be out there instead of here.”

“You heard what Darkness said;” Zero joined the conversation as they retreated from the curtain. “It’s to make sure no one connects the real us with our, uh… day jobs.”

“Night jobs.” Facsimile corrected.

“Sure, okay.” Zero shrugged. “But the point is that everyone would find it more odd for Alloy to be here instead of you than for you to be here instead of Alloy; if the question ever comes up.” The other two were stunned to silence as they tried to pick their way through the awkward wording of that sentence.

“Darkness would not have put it that way.” Facsimile concluded.

“I think it makes more sense the way I said it.” Zero considered self conciously.

Facsimile started to comment, but held her tongue on the subject. “So, how are you going to keep up the secret ID with your sister in town going to a psionics school anyway?”

“We’ve already talked about it.” Alloy shrugged. “Her powers are different enough that no one would think that she might be related to Alloy without help. I’ll just be her mildly jealous, but proud brother. It’s just a matter of acting like I don’t have powers on my own.”

Facsimile quirked a grin, “Maybe that’ll help in the Drama class you two signed up for this year.”

“You should have signed up too.” Zero chirped.

“Someone’s got to patrol while you two are rehearsing.” Facsimile reasoned. “Besides, my best acting talents are kind of a secret from the student body, no?” She winked, turning one eye brilliant blue in the instant between her eyelid going down and coming back up again.

Behind her, through the curtain, the assembled family and students applauded as if she’d timed it that way. On stage, Vincent Liedecker came to the podium to speak.

The applause washed over Liedecker like a warm, soothing bath. It was amazing what a difference context made; when he met with members of his extra-legal empire, you could hear a pin drop when he was about to speak. But when he spoke to the public, he had to wait for the adulation to die down.

Connoisseur of people that he was, he could tell there was something more than the typical respect and adoration that came with his well publicized charity work and support for arts. The people before him weren’t guilty socialites come to throw money at his feet so they could be seen doing good. They weren’t bright eyed activists who saw him as a gateway to Making A Difference. No, they were the desperate recipients of something only he could have given them; their last hope.

Without him saying so; without him formalizing it, Liedecker and those people in the auditorium knew that they owed him something. Possibly something they could never pay back. But they would try.

He smiled his best smile, the one he used when opening a new hospital wing. He didn’t need to take anything from them. But it was worth knowing that he could if he wanted to; that their faith was that strong. That was how he’d become so powerful. How he’d stayed on top.

Any fool could pay off the police and the media. But when you had the people’s hearts, you didn’t have to. They never looked in your direction when they should.

Holding up a hand, he bought them down to silence. Partial silence at least. Two teenage girls in the fifth row let out loud whoops as the crowd noise died down. Their respective parents instantly moved to admonish them. “Thank you darlin’s.” He nodded in their direction. A ripple of laughter played through the room.

“It’s kind of surprising hearing kids excited about going to school. I know I wouldn’t have been clapping when I was their age.” More laughter. He let his expression tell them it was okay to laugh harder and they did. Dealing with people, be it with wrath or with diplomacy had always been his element. He could play them like instruments.

He let the laughter die before speaking again. “I am… so touched to see this place up and running. It was the last big project my daddy undertook before he died. I know that he’s looking down on us right now; proud to see his name on this school, teaching these kids to become better people. To learn to take control of their special gifts and make them a gift for everyone around them.”

Pausing for the smattering of applause, he took a sip of water. “And that’s probably what the kids are most excited about. But let me make this promise to all the parents here; just because we aim to help your children with their gifts doesn’t mean we’re going to slack on the schooling part. We here are one hundred percent as committed to helping each and every student achieve academic excellence as we are to helping them develop their powers.”

He bowed his head a bit and lowered his voice. “And as happy as this day is and should be; I know that we cannot forget the scandal that continues to embroil the last major school for psionics, the PTAA.”

Leaning over the podium, he gave the impression of looking each and every person in the audience in the eye. “I am going to promise you--swear on my father’s name, swear on my reputation that nothing like that will happen here. Not while I’m in charge.

“I’m sure that by now, all of you have met with and have been given our primer on security by our head of security;” He gestured to the man seated behind him and to his right, “T. Alvin Warren. And I just want to let you know that we intend to work very closely with all possible organizations to help keep your loved ones safe; from the MPD to Mayfield’s own prelates, the Descendants.”

There was a cacophony of small, excited sounds from the audience as Liedecker gestured off stage. “In fact, here today to confirm their commitment to keeping this school safe are Darkness, Alloy and Codex of the Descendants.”

The applause that erupted from the crowd when the three prelates appeared on stage was markedly different than what Liedecker had received. He was familiar with that kind too: Celebrity applause. It didn’t sit well with him.

In only a year, the prelates had ingratiated themselves to the public. Their popularity had only skyrocketed faster with the help of adoring articles in the Scribe from reporters like Mary Northbrooke.

Codex reached him first and extended her hand to shake his. Liedecker smiled warmly and gave the hand a gentlemanly kiss instead. If the good people of Mayfield loved the Descendants, so too did the public face of Vincent Liedecker.

But privately, he knew that something had to be done before the Descendants complicated things. The school might prove useful in that respect; he hadn’t considered it, but when Keyes and Brant had approached them, they had been adamant that they had the backing of the prelates and that they would help however they could. The wheels in his mind were already turning as to how to play that to his advantage.

Alloy shook his hand next, and then two more times with the strange tendrils that snaked from his forearms disconcertingly. “Pleasure to finally meet you sir.” The armored prelate ducked his head respectfully.

“The feeling is more than mutual.” Liedecker said, “Though we’ve already met: last Fall when you and yours put down that overgrown hound dog.” There was no harm admitting when you’d been helped, Liedecker reasoned, and he always paid his debts, even if it pained him.

“All in a day’s work.” Alloy said, moving aside for Darkness.

The woman displayed her hand to be kissed as he’d done with Codex. That was a marked shift in behavior from when he’d first met her in a conference arranged by Keyes. Then she’d been all business. Now she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the theatrics.

“Good to see you again, Vincent.” Darkness said warmly.

“And you too, Miss.” Liedecker gestured to her that the podium was hers. Alloy and Codex had taken up posts on either side leaving him hemmed in beside her. It was a serious boost to even Liedecker’s pride how perfect his reputation was that he was standing shoulder to shoulder with the city’s good Samaritans and blending in perfectly.

The tentacles on Alloy’s arms waved at the crowd in the energetic way children would, eliciting chuckles from the crowd. Darkness waited for the murmurs to die down before she spoke.

Wearing Darkness’s likeness, Facsimile repeated verbatim the speech she’d spent all night memorizing. “Thank you all so much for this warm welcome.” She wondered what she would have said if the welcome hadn’t been warm. “And thank you to Vincent Liedecker for giving us a chance to be part of this momentous occasion. Let’s give him another hand.”

The audience applauded again. Liedecker bowed his head in gratitude. He reminded Facsimile of a ringmaster or a maestro; perfectly at home in the spotlight.

“We’re here today to give our personal guarantee that the Descendants, in concert with the MPD and the security team here at the Institute will be working hard to make sure nothing happens to the students; whether within these walls or in the city of Mayfield. The panic button devices and emergency number provided to everyone at orientation are linked in to both our headquarters, the security office in this building and the Mayfield PD switchboard. If anything happens, we'll be on top of it almost instantly.”

The crowd was quiet, but hearing what T. Warren had already said from the leader of a group credited with making Mayfield drastically safer in only a year buoyed even the most nervous parent’s sense of security. Which was the point of having her say it.

“But today isn’t about us. It’s about this school and the first students in its halls. I believe Mr. Liedecker would now like to introduce the preliminary staff that will be working to make sure the Institute provides the best possible education. Mr. Liedecker?”

She stepped aside, taking her place beside Alloy so the Liedecker could once more take charge.

“Thank you, Darkness. Alloy, Codex. The Descendants, everyone.” More applause. “In fact, I do have some people I’d like you to meet. First of all, our Powers Training and Creativity Coordinator, Alexis Keyes, who was instrumental in bringing this place out of mothballs and into reality.”

The applause was light and appreciative. Alexis smiled and gave a small wave.

“Also instrumental in this process,” Liedecker continued, “Our Academic Director, Laurel Brant.”

The response was louder this time. People knew and respected the Brant name.

“Our Student Life Coordinator, Stephanie Carroll.” Seated next to Laurel was a lightly tanned woman with short, black hair. She had a stoic look about her that was cause for some worried murmuring among the prospective students. Liedecker himself only wondered where that name had come from. But he did know why she’d chosen Student Life despite being the last person he’d have wanted there.

“I’ve already introduced T Alvin Warren, Head of Security.” Liedecker said. The man still got another round of applause. It was only fair; their safety was in his hands.

“Some of our teaching staff will also be available later today to discuss any questions you have with your syllabus and class schedule. Once again, I welcome you to the John T. Liedecker Institute. Ms. Carroll will be taking those of you eager to get started moving in up to the dormitories. Myself, Ms. Keyes, Ms. Brant, and the Descendants will be in the lobby prepared to offer personal tours of the grounds.”

-- • --

Tammy was the first one into the room she was expected to share with Rose ‘Arkose’ Abernathy for the rest of the school year.

“Wow, look at this place!” She exclaimed, flipping the light switch. It was larger and much nicer than Warrick’s room at the Academy had been, she was quick to note. She was just as quick to remember that she couldn’t mention that with the Abernathys in tow. She contented herself with pointing out just how nice the room was.

The soft illumination fell on the contents of the room; a pair of beds with nightstands beside them, a large, wooden bookcase, two desks with high backed executive chairs and monitors already set atop them. The closets were set into one wall, flanking a door leading to the bathroom shared by the adjoining suite. The opposite wall was dominated by a bay window overlooking the courtyard below.

“They’re certainly going all out to impress.” Mr. Kaine helped his wife ease Tammy’s boxes into the room.

Arkose followed them in, carrying boxes as if they were a load of pillows. Her mother and father followed, looking around in wide eyed amazement.

“I call this one!” Tammy said, swiping her lightest clothes box from the top of the load her parents were bringing in and setting it on top of a bed.

“Looks like you didn’t really have a choice.” Arkose noted that the bed Tammy had passed over, as well as the furnishings of what was now her side of the room, were heavily reinforced despite a high level of craftsmanship meant to hide that fact.

“So,” Mrs. Kaine asked the Abernathys, setting about prying tape from a box, “How did you learn about the Institute?”

Michael Abernathy took one of the boxes from his daughter and struggled to set it down. “Well, Rose got lost in th—“

“I ran away, dad.” Arkose said flatly as she set the boxes down and stood back to give the room a measuring look.

Uncomfortable at the mention, Mr. Abernathy nodded to indicate his daughter was correct, “The Descendants came in and helped Zero Point and the Majestrix bring her back. There was a fight…”

“You fought the Descendants?!” Tammy almost dropped the clothes she was pulling out. Warrick told her about the Arizona mission, but nothing about fighting her new roommate.

“No!” Susan Abernathy was quick to say, “No, it was a… scorpion… thing.”

“A lot of scorpions.” Mr. Abernathy added. “Giant scorpions.”

Tommy Kaine exchanged a glance with his wife beneath the Abernathys’ notice. If any other girl’s family had heard that, they’d have questioned the sanity of that claim. The Kaines, of course, had heard all about it. “Giant scorpions?” He feigned incredulity, “The devil you say.”

“No, it’s very true, Mr. Kaine.” Arkose quickly came to her foundering parents’ defense. “They didn’t start big, but every time one died, the others grew. I think it was one of those monsters you hear about on the news.”

“That must have been a very jarring experience, Rose.” Mrs. Kaine said sympathetically.

“I’m fine.” Arkose opened the box her father had put on her bed and started transferring books from it to the bookcase. “I’m hard to hurt.”

Mrs. Kaine was going to try again when there was a knock at the bathroom door. Tammy quickly abandoned her tiny contribution to the unpacking to open it.

Kura Akagi stood there in a conjoined full bath, now dressed all in purple shades with her parents behind her. “Hey, suitemate!” She chirped, ruffling the other girl’s hair. She waved to Arkose, “Hey, other suitemate!”

“I’m sure they have real names.” Kura’s father said in a tone that showed he was used to and amused by his daughter’s antics. He was in his early thirties, slightly built with his hair grown out long enough to tie into a ponytail. “Sorry to interrupt.” He addressed the adults in the room. “We just thought it would be a good idea to meet the other parents; we never got a chance to at the Academy. I thought it would be nice to exchange email addys, maybe other contacts; you know, in case something comes up, or even if one of you would like someone to talk to about the… heh… joys of raising a psionic.”

Mr. Kaine wanted to reply with ‘try raising two’, but knew he couldn’t. “I think we all feel that need sometimes.” He extended his hand. “Tommy Kaine. This is my wife, Sandra and my little girl, Tammy.”

Mr. Akagi took the offered hand and gave it a shake. “Hinjo Akagi. My wife, Noriko,”

Noriko Akagi shook Mr. Kaine’s hand too. She was tall and slim like her daughter with extremely long, black hair. “Pleased to meet you Mr. Kaine.”

“Call me Tommy.” Mr. Kaine replied. “And these are Rose’s parents, Michael and Sue Abernathy.”

As the six parents fell into their greetings, Tammy took Kura aside to sit on the window seat. “So where’s your roommate? Is she cool?”

“Not in the room.” Kura shrugged, “But she’s all moved in. Everything’s purple.” She made a face.

“If you don’t like purple, why did you change all your stuff purple?” Tammy observed.

Kura looked down, finally noticing the current state of her wardrobe, and made an annoyed sound. Her clothes flashed rapidly through a series of patterns and textures before finally settling on a red tie-dyed shirt and gray khakis. “I hate when it does that.”

Tammy gave her a confused look.

“Sometimes I use my powers without thinking about it.” Kura clarified, embarrassed. “Like, I’ll wake up in the morning and all my stuff is floating around… or I’m floating around. We were working on that when it turned out the Academy was evil.”

“Your roommate is going to love you.” Tammy laughed.

“She better.” Kura said, with conspiratorial gleam in her eye, “Or all her purple is going to be orange.”

Among the parents, the topic had turned to discussing their children’s most amusing abuses of their power, something that seemed to be an entirely alien concept to the Abernathys.

“Rose has never had that sort of problem.” Mrs. Abernathy said, passing clothes to her daughter to stow in the closet. “She’s been well aware of her strength ever since she had her… change. That kind of strength would be very simple to abuse, but she never does.”

Mr. Akagi laughed heartily at that. “At least you thought through how your daughter could abuse her powers. We thought ‘our little girl can change the colors of things, what trouble could she possibly get into with that?’”

“A little hint;” Mrs. Akagi offered, “the labels on most buttons? Barcodes? Writing on a page? It’s all just a difference of coloration as far as the eye or an optical scanner’s concerned. We didn’t even consider it until after she’d erased all the paper textbooks in her geography class. And only then did we learn about everything else she can do.” She gave her daughter a fond look, laughter in her voice undercutting any anger she may have felt at the time those things had occurred.

“Well I bet that you haven’t had to deal with target practice in the house.” Mrs. Kaine ventured.

“On the contrary,” Mrs. Akagi laughed. “How do you think we found out about the telekinesis?”

“Well kid,” Charity stood back to admire her sister’s and her own work at making Joy’s room a bit homier. They’d put down a rug, put up some curtains and set a few specimens of the stuffed animal collection Glory insisted Joy was too old for around the room. The other half of the room was dominated by the cello and audio equipment Joy’s roommate, Rita had insisted her parents allow her to keep. “Glory’s in a hurry to get back home, so… you’ve got my cell number, right?”

Joy sat on her bed, surveying the room as well. She nodded silently at Charity’s question.

“And you know you can call me for anything, okay? Any time. You’re feeling homesick, you’re not getting along with your roommate, or the upperclassmen are picking on you… I’ll be there, okay?” Charity sat down on the bed and gave her younger sister a hug.

“I will.” Joy said, forcing herself to smile. She’d never been away from home before. In fact, she’d never been to school before, having always been privately tutored like all her other sisters save Charity. “I wish you could stay longer.”

“So do I, munchkin.” Charity said, “But you know how it is; when Glory bellows… And hey, Faith is going to be here, right? Don’t forget to sign up for her class, okay?”

“I don’t even like computers.” Joy frowned.

“But you like Faith, right? She’s going to be watching out for you. But if you need me, I’ll be on the next plane to Mayfield, you got that?”

Joy nodded again. There was a soft, but insistent knock on the open door. Both looked up to see Glory there.

“The flight’s in two hours.” She said. “Even with our security allowances, we’ll need to hurry to catch it.”

Charity knew better than to glare at Glory, but that didn’t keep her from thinking the hardest, most malevolent glare possible in her direction. “Be good.” She said, patting Joy on the head, careful to avoid the stubby horns that grew there.

“I expect you to do your best, Joy.” Glory addressed the youngest daughter of Duvall for the first time since they’d arrived at the Institute. “No trouble, good grades. You’re our father’s daughter; it’s expected of you.”

“And make a lot of friends.” Charity added.

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with your studies.” Glory said. “You have all of our numbers. If you need anything, we’ll be here for you. We’ll see you at Thanksgiving.” She turned and strode out of the room.

“I’ll come visit sooner.” Charity said, reluctantly following. “Probably Patience too. Take care of yourself.”

The unspoken part of that was ‘because Glory certainly won’t.’ Joy heard it loud and clear, even if Glory didn’t. It had been the underlying motif of her life. Glory helped only Glory or Father. She liked to act like she’d raised all her younger sisters, but the truth was that it had been the hired help, or Serenity and Chastity, whenever they were around.

Now even Charity was gone, even I under protest. Joy took a deep breath and stood up from the bed. While she wasn’t poetic enough to think it in those precise words, she nevertheless knew one important truth; without Glory being In Charge and Charity helping her out, the first thing she needed was friends. Joy Duvall set out to find just that.”

“You guys need any help?”

Phineas looked up from his work getting his computer working to see Alloy standing at the door he was currently sharing with Jake Richmond. He gawked. So did Jake, who had been in the process of moving the beds to the facing wall so they’d have space for the card table Phineas intended to buy. The operation had needed to wait until their families had left.

Alloy shrugged at the silence. “Only asking because the powers that be asked me and the boys to help out with any heavy lifting that might need getting done.”

“Jake, is there a superhero at our door?” Phineas asked in a stage whisper.

“Yeah, and he’s about to give up and hit the cafeteria for a late lunch.” Alloy answered for Jake. “Did you guys need help?”

Jake shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I’m pretty strong myself.”

Alloy nodded, “Carry on then.”

“Wait!” Phineas practically leapt out of his chair and sprang across the room in a display of impossibly contorting vine-like arms and legs. He tried to give Jake a ‘what were you thinking’ look, but his physiology prevented it from looking like anything so much as a death threat. “Alloy, hold on!”

“Yeeeeees?” Alloy put a bit of singsong in his reply as he stopped in the hall.

“Can I ask you a question? Two questions?” Phineas stopped and tried to settle himself, “Four questions?”

“Shoot.”

“You’re going to get lunch… with Darkness and Codex?”

“If they haven’t eaten yet, yeah.” Alloy said.

“Can I come with you? I’d really like to meet them!”

“I thought I was the celebrity here.” Laughed Alloy.

“But these are hot celebrities.” Phineas said with iron clad logic. “Back me up here, Jake.”

“Uh…” Jake started.

“I mean neither one of them is Facsimile level…”

“Facsimile?” Alloy and Jake parroted for very different reasons.

“Yeah.” Phineas said, “She’s like the hottest Descendant. I even saw a poll on PrelateWatch that agrees.” He gave Jake a meaningful look. “You don’t think so?”

“She’s… bald.” Jake said slowly.

“And I’m a plant. Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Phineas shot back.

“Wasn’t’ this entire conversation based on—“ Alloy started.

“Please?” Phineas said, trying to look sad and pathetic despite that being impossible for him.

“Oh, why not?” Alloy shrugged. He had a feeling that life would be even more interesting than usual with the Liedecker Institute in town.

End Issue #33