Mach: The Super Hero

2.5 Looking Up

Michael could not let his mind wander for long, since Hargrave didn't make his pauses last.

“School starts next week, Monday morning. You can pick up your class schedule at the reception or at one of the several help desks. You can also access the school’s website for this and any other information you need, including the personal contact of every member of our staff who is here to help you get settled and deal with whatever problems you meet with. Logistical or otherwise.”

The link showed up on the screen, so nobody really wrote any of the information down. It would be an easy thing to find it all online.

“Rest assured, we are doing our very best to provide you with the best quality education, and the most enriching experience that we can. Your grade’s coordinator will now introduce the members of the staff assigned to your grade, and provide any further information that might be suitable.”

Hargrave leaned back, sitting up straight, and returned his hands under the desk to presumably rest them on his lap.

“Thank you for your attention,” Hargrave said. “Welcome again. Stay out of trouble, and enjoy your studies. I sincerely wish all of you a swift and pleasant transition.”

By the time the projector switched off, and the lights on, the coordinator was standing in front of them all. Smiling warmly, he welcomed everyone, introduced himself, and wasted no time bringing up more teachers onto the auditorium stage. Michael watched as they explained how they, as a grade, would be split up among classes that had no more than twenty students. Each of these classes would, in turn, have one teacher functioning as an interim coordinator between the students and the grade coordinator. A delegate.

To represent the students, each class would have a class president who would be part of the entire grade’s student council consisting of all the different class presidents. The student council would look after the students' rights and interests in every administrative decision, including class schedules. However, elections would only be held at the start of the following year.

That would give students time to see how things went instead of having to guess at what would be best. Who they would like to vote for.

The teachers themselves had a different dynamic to them than Michael was used to. The way they introduced themselves, and how they moved and watched him and his colleagues, it almost seemed like they wanted to teach them. As if they felt privileged to get the opportunity to do so.

It was such a foreign notion that Michael only half-believed his own impressions.

Eventually, the coordinator and his staff left the stage, and up came a suited woman with presentable glasses. He introduced herself as the representative of the staff of psychologists. She went to talk about their role in the same way Hargrave had, trying to sell Michael and the rest on the idea. A sales pitch that would have ordinarily been delivered to their parents. She focused on comforting and reassuring all of the students that using psychological assistance had no negative connotation.

“When you’re crazy, you’re put in an asylum. When you visit one of us, you’re simply getting some assistance that we all need, even if just sometimes. And when it comes to you extraordinary youth, it is essential that you get the help you might need. For your sake, as well as of others.”

The lady doctor went on to explain how scheduling would work, a commitment to privacy upheld by the law, and so on. Michael got the sense she wasn’t used to public speaking because she talked very fast and kind of overwhelmed them with information. By the time she left the stage, Michael hardly knew what to think about any of it.

Well. I have to get seen by four of them, so I guess I’ll just show up when I’m called. Won’t worry about it otherwise.

Along came the representative of the staff of special instructors, stepping onto the stage. He was a young man wearing thick spectacles that protected his eyes from his thin greasy hair.

He was a bit awkward as he began talking. “Well, we are here to help you attain two things. Control and manipulation of your powers. I mean abilities, abilities.” He manhandled his tablet PC for a few seconds, and Michael couldn’t help but snicker a little bit. “Control, uh, pertains to actually, well, using your powers. Like switching them on or keeping them off. Whatever the trigger, we help you find it, and then we help you understand how to control it. Manipulation, eh… well, on the other hand, manipulation is more about…well, attaining a good mastery of your powers. I mean abilities. Abilities,” he corrected himself, sighing anxiously. “Oof. We’ll help you get used to them, their level of range and capacity, and being able to, well, basically yes, master them. Exactly. Each one of us, I mean, our staff, has been at the forefront of investigation on you. Well, not you you, uh… your powers. I mean abilities, uhm...”

He paused, massaging his head, all but embarrassed by his own awkwardness. It looked like he was experiencing stage fright. “I mean to say that we’ve been studying the phenomenon that is your remarkable abilities. Please don’t think we’re here to hold you back or to force you into anything, we’re just uh…well, you have teachers for all of your other abilities, right? How to count, how to do back-flips, how to write. Well, we’re simply the teachers for your new ones.”

He stopped and stared at them questioningly. After a few seconds of an awkward pause, he shook his head, remembering something. “Sorry, I meant to ask, any questions so far?”

Of course, there would be. “How will you teach us about our abilities if you’ve never had anything like them?” someone asked.

“Ah, yes, great!” He was ready to answer that, apparently. He adjusted his spectacles and looked over at his tablet PC with confidence. “A gym teacher doesn’t exactly have your physical abilities, does he? But he does know how to understand them and help you with them, thanks to the study and research done uhh… in regards to human biology. It’s the same with us. We’ve been hard at work researching the phenomenon, you can-you can be sure of that.”

Of course, the problem was that health science was still a science, and with many years of study and practice. Since Empowered had shown only a few months ago, there was no way they had more than a year of research under their belt.

Nobody was that convinced by that analogy.

“I hope I get him,” Eleanor said.

To Michael’s surprise. “Yeah?”

“He seems honestly interested in helping us,” she added, glancing at him. “Not just curious about what we are.”

“Hm. Yeah, I guess some of them are gonna be like that, huh?” Michael asked.

“Shhh!”

Michael and Eleanor quieted down, along with the rest of the auditorium. It had been the grade’s coordinator telling everyone to shush down.

“As I was saying,” the instructor continued, “we’re very confident that we can help you better understand, and control, these abilities. They are less supernatural than people think they are, ha ha… it’s not like they’re magic!” he pontificated, clearly meaning it as a joke.

It came so out of nowhere that nobody laughed. He let his chuckle dissipate into a short whine, and then cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. “With our help, you will see that happening. I promise!”

The guy actually rose his hand and made a fist to show his determination. Michael glanced over at Eleanor, who rose her eyebrows at him as if to say ‘see?’

Michael had to agree. He seemed sincere in his belief that he and the rest of them were still very much human beings.

Normal. Or natural, at the very least.

Despite the bad first analogy, the man did give an excellent first impression, intellectually speaking, because he answered all the questions pretty well.

What if they didn’t want instruction? They’d be let go as soon as they were confirmed to have the controlling part down. Tafari raised a question about their abilities being a part of the curriculum, but the control and manipulation weren’t inserted into the curriculum or any kind of grading system. Instead, they would earn individual certificates to officially state the level of control and manipulation over their respective ability.

“We will have to see where these certificates will fit into your futures, but it certainly won’t hurt for you to have certification provided by a legitimate party saying that you’re in complete control of your abilities. We are confident that these extra diplomas will go nicely with any resume you put together in the future. It sure won’t ever hurt,” he repeated, probably by accident.

He was right about that, of course. Though it did force them to get the certificates if they were to be accepted anywhere, academically, or professionally. Then again, that wasn’t at all different from a regular diploma.

As the event went on, Michael would hear a question, and if he also shared it, he’d listen to the answer. Otherwise, he would talk to Eleanor.

The girl was surprisingly easy to talk to. “So any more friends of yours with abilities?”

“Not really,” Eleanor admitted, whispering, “we were lucky we both got one, really! It’s really crazy, actually, we’ve been friends since forever.”

“C’mon, Ellie, don’t say stuff like that,” Miracle said down at the desk. Michael only noticed then that she had lied down on her arms as if to sleep.

“But it’s true!” Eleanor said happily, “it would’ve been awful to be separated from my bestie! Most people were not this lucky.”

Miracle sighed, tired, and shuffled her head in what felt like gratitude and agreement. If not embarrassment.

“Yeah, I wasn’t,” Michael admitted. “My friends kind of pushed me away, sorta? They’re still my friends, though… I think.”

“Yeah, the same happened to us,” Eleanor said, sadly. “So you don’t know anyone here?”

“Oh, my school had three, counting me. But we weren’t friends. One was the – well, you know. The jock, the bully. The other was Tafari. I only got to know him since I found out he was a disa—an empowered.”

Eleanor smiled widely. “I like the term too, gotta get used to saying it. Empowered,” she repeated, looking up proudly. “Empowered sounds nice. But anyway, you and Tafari! You guys became friends because you had powers?”

“I tried to,” Michael said with a shrug, giving them a weak laugh. “I guess maybe? Not Max, screw that guy, but Tafari’s cool. It’s just he actually hates this power thing, so he didn’t like me making friends with him just because we had that in common. He’s cool and all,” Michael said hesitantly. With a little bit of a shrug, he had to add “kinda harsh, but I guess he’s not someone I can talk with about powers stuff.”

Michael chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Honestly, I still gotta figure out exactly what I can talk with him about. Most of what I try just seems to get on his nerves.”

“Oh, I see,” Eleanor said, facing him with no small amount of compassion. “That must be lonely, huh?”

Michael took a breath and looked Eleanor in the eyes, and then Miracle, catching her as she buried her head in her arms again with a yawn.

Michael regarded both of them as friends.

With a nervous yet grateful laugh, Michael smiled. “Yeah. Good thing it didn’t last long.”