Leena hated Calculus class. To be more specific, she hated her Calculus teacher. She’d never met a bigger bigot in all her life. How the man even kept his job as a teacher was a mystery. By the look on his face she could swear he was a hair’s breadth away from an aneurism every time he was forced to give her an A. That was the nice thing about math, as long as she showed her work and got the right answer there were no subjective qualities the bastard could use to deduct points from her.
While the situation had been truly contentious at the beginning of her senior year, it was now only a few weeks until graduation. Over that time Mr. Siler had gravitated from barely restrained hostility to ignoring her existence to the best of his abilities, a sentiment Leena whole heartedly returned. It wasn’t her fault she was born an Almost.
“Almost” was a derogative term for superhumans that looked “almost, but not quite” human. Supers generally fell into one of 3 appearance categories. There were the “Norms”, supers that looked entirely like a normal person, regardless of how extreme their powers. The Morphically Challenged, or “Mutants”, were supers who didn’t have a chance in hell of passing for human. The most common was the “hybrid”, supers that looked like half-human half-animal escapees from The Island of Dr. Moreau. Though there were other types, like a man made of organic metal or a woman made of crystals.
“Almosts” were supers that looked almost entirely human, but with one or two details that made them disturbingly “other”. They were also the least common, accounting for only about 3% of supers. For some reason supers almost always looked entirely human, or unmistakably not. Differences in Almosts could include cat eyes, a forked tongue, shark teeth in an otherwise human mouth, fur instead of hair on the head, pointed ears, etc. In the typically perverse nature of mankind, it was the “Almosts” and not the “Mutants” that took the brunt of negative emotions directed at supers, even from other supers. Leena had never really understood why the Almosts got the short end of the stick.
She had plenty of personal experience with the discrepancy though. In her own grade was Timmy Clayton, a fox hybrid that looked exactly like you’d imagine a 5’8” anthropomorphic fox to look. Everybody loved Timmy and strangers went out of their way to be nice to him. Even Leena liked Timmy, after all he was a nice guy. But people took one look at Leena and did their best to repress an involuntary shudder.
Leena wasn’t hideous, far from it in fact. She was admittedly tall at 6’4”, and had the athletically sculpted body of an Amazon. Her face might not have been supermodel worthy but she was definitely pretty. No, the shudder came from her white marble-like skin, dark blue lips, and the neon blue bioluminescent hair that, when not braided, hung down to her knees. Of course the most disturbing thing was probably her eyes, which were a solid white.
She was broken out of her thoughts by a tap on the shoulder. She turned around and was confronted by a gape-mouthed, cross-eyed face with shiny bubbles inflating and deflating from each nostril. It took every ounce of control she had not to burst out laughing. Despite her best efforts she still snorted a laugh out her nose.
“Is something the matter, Ms. Brightwater?” came Mr. Siler’s voice. His tone implied that Leena was the matter.
“No, Mr. Siler,” she responded with an even voice. It wasn’t even hard to suppress her smile after hearing her teacher’s voice.
He continued to glare at her for a moment before returning to his boring lecture on probability functions, which was practically verbatim from the textbook. Once sure his attention was given over fully to his own voice, Leena turned back to glare at her best friend. He just smiled his charming smile.
Greg was a super, but his power was ridiculous. He could blow shiny bubbles out of his nose, control their movement, and pop them with a sound and force equivalent to a pop-cap firework. While it was great for practical jokes and entertainment, his power didn’t exactly make him a prospect for the Superhuman Response Team.
As luck would have it the bell rang and no one wasted a second making a beeline for the door. Once in the hall Leena hung back just enough so she could smack Greg upside the back of the head, as lightly as possible of course.
“Ow! Dang it, Blue, what was that for?”
Leena glowered. “You know damn well what that was for. Mr. Siler and I have finally reached a cease fire and you’re trying to reignite the war for your own amusement.”
Greg smirked. “I can’t help it, Blue. You’re just so cute when you’re glowering at that self-righteous windbag.”
She almost laughed. Not only was cute just about the last word anyone would use to describe her, her glower usually sent people running like The Beast had just landed in front of them. Nevertheless, the corners of her lips quirked.
“I don’t care how ‘cute’ you think my glower is. There’s less than a month til graduation and I’d like to make it without being forced to shove that bastard’s head literally where it usually resides figuratively.”
Greg took a moment to process that before he burst out laughing. Just before he could make a response his girlfriend slid in next to him and looped her arm through his. She seemed to appear out of nowhere, which was a distinct possibility since she was a Concealment Class-4.
“Hey guys, how was class with the Super Nazi?”
Leena grinned. “Hey, Katie. It was going fine until Bubble Boy here tried to break the peace agreement.”
Katie glowered at her boyfriend, and Greg did his best to explain himself. “Whoa, I just saw that Blue seemed to be feelin’ the Blues, and I tried to cheer her up. I didn’t mean for the King of the Jerk-offs to take exception.”
Katie gave him a look and then turned to me. “He’s telling the truth. Are you feeling okay, Leena?”
Right, Telepath-4/3. Add in the Flight-7 and she was so obviously out of Greg’s class that no one, not even Leena, could figure out how they wound up together. Especially since with her wavy black hair, sparkly green eyes, and killer figure Katie was one of the 10 prettiest girls in the whole school. She’d actually asked Katie why she was with Greg and it still didn’t make any sense to her.
“I suppose,” she said slowly. “It’s just the usual stuff sneaking up on me. It’s kind of hard to stay upbeat when there are mothers that hide their children as you walk down the street.”
Katie let go of Greg and stepped up to Leena’s left side, pulling her into a side hug. The comfort was much appreciated and Leena returned the hug.
“You shouldn’t worry about people like that,” said Katie. “Most of them are willfully ignorant morons with their heads firmly planted up their butts.”
Leena glanced at Greg, and remembering her own comment from a few moments ago they both snickered. Katie was about to ask what was so funny when a voice shouted out, “Hey Thomson! You’d better watch out, it looks like BBD is tryin’ to steal your girl!”
Leena stiffened at the words and looked over to the source. Jason Vetters was undoubtedly the most handsome boy at the school. Athletically sculpted physique, movie star good looks, perfect teeth, sparkling green eyes, and thick light-brown hair perfectly styled. He also had a pretty great power set, was looking to be valedictorian of the class, and yet for some reason seemed to be doing everything he could to live up to the overused stereotype of the douche-bag jock. He was currently standing about fifteen feet away in front of a row of lockers. He was also escorted by a sizeable number of male and female groupies.
The bastard was smirking at her and Leena’s fists tightened. She was about to tell him to fuck off when Katie linked her right arm with Leena’s left and started tracing her left index finger up and down Leena’s arm. She looked up at Leena’s face with an adoring expression so over-the-top it was just plain goofy and said in a breathless voice, “Oh Leena, would you really steal me away?” Leena felt her jaw unhinge and her mouth drop open.
Greg raised his hand to his heart in mock indignation. “Katie, how could you?! Well, she can’t steal you if she steals me first!”
He stepped over to Leena’s right side and wrapped his left arm with her right, tracing the index finger of his right hand up and down her arm in a mirror imitation of Katie. He looked up at her with an adoring face even more ridiculous than Katie’s and said, “Oh Leena, won’t you please steal me away?”
Leena lost it. She was laughing so hard it was difficult to draw enough breath to keep laughing. She had to rest one of her arms on the nearby lockers just to support herself. Greg and Katie were laughing right along with her, as well as most of the students who had witnessed the exchange. Everyone except Jason and his entourage.
Jason glowered at her, and then turned around and stalked off, his loyal groupies following behind him. Leena and her friends finally pulled themselves together. Leena smiled at both of them. “You guys are great, you know that?”
Katie just smiled at her but Greg puffed out his chest and said, “Of course. I thought that was obvious.” Katie and Leena simultaneously punched him on opposing arms, lightly of course. He rubbed at the spots and looked mournfully to the heavens. “Why is it my lot in life to be abused by women?”
Katie sidled up to him and pulled him into an embrace. “You love it and you know it,” she said.
“Mm, indeed I do,” he said as he pulled her close for a kiss. After a moment he stepped back and released an exaggerated sigh. “Alas, I must leave you now, but never fear, for we shall meet again when the final bell tolls.”
Leena smirked and Katie chuckled as she gave him a shove to see him on his way. “Oh, beat it you goofball.” Greg smiled and gave us a final salute before heading off to his last class of the day. Katie smiled at his retreating form and shook her head. She looked to Leena and said, “Come on, we’d better go before we’re late to class.”
As they walked Leena said with a smile, “I still don’t get what you see in him.”
“I keep telling you, he’s cute, funny, and really, truly likes that I can read his mind. Not just is ok with it, which a lot of guys say but really they’re totally freaked out, but actually likes it.” She gave Leena a narrow glance and let a wicked smile appear on her lips. “Also, it doesn’t hurt that he’s absolutely fantastic in the sack.”
Leena nearly spit. As it was she was grateful that she couldn’t blush. Regardless, they both descended into a giggle fit that they barely managed to suppress before arriving at class. They’d just slid into their seats when the bell rang.
Superhuman Studies was a 1 or 2 year course, depending on whether you actually had any superhuman abilities. Considering the number of children born with powers had grown to more than 70% in the 40-odd years since the first appearance, it probably wouldn’t be long before it was a mandatory 2 years for everyone. Year 1, taken in the junior year, covers superhuman origins and history, what powers are currently known to exist, and how they’re classified. If you are superhuman then you take Year 2 and it covers superhuman current events and laws, practical application of powers, and preparation for licensing tests.
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Not every superhuman had to be licensed. You didn’t need a license until you were 18 (with the exception of passive Bricks above Class-4 and a few other inherently dangerous powers), and then you were only required to have one if you were Class-4 or higher, or intended to use your powers for work. If you weren’t licensed and used a power publicly or for work, except in emergency situations, you could be subjected to fines and/or criminal prosecution, and you were liable for any property damage or physical injury resulting from the use of your power.
The school actually had the capability to test the most common powers to at least Class-3 and in some cases as high as Class-6. There were designated test days with anywhere from 2 to 5 active and passive ability tests lined up.
Leena had mixed feelings about Superhuman Studies. She liked the class and she really liked the instructor, but that was the problem. The first day of class in her junior year had been the most embarrassing day of her life and was the source of the moniker Jason the Douche had used to heckle her, BBD: Big Blue Dyke.
To be fair she wasn’t a lesbian, but she wasn’t exactly straight either. Physical sight was not her primary form of perception, so male/female played a very limited role in attraction for her.
On her first day of class that year she took one look at the teacher and was struck dumb. Ms. Linders was drop dead gorgeous from anyone’s perspective. She had long, lustrous black hair, dusky skin, pouty lips, big gorgeous hazel eyes, and a body that might well shame Aphrodite. The fact she chose to be a teacher was mind-boggling. Every straight male in her classes positively drooled at the sight of her. Leena’s downfall came from the fact that that day, she’d drooled too.
Leena saw Ms. Linders physically just like everyone else, but it was the primary aspect of her perception that rendered her speechless. Leena’s first crush had been the summer when she was 13 years old, on a 32 year old man who’d moved in three houses down from them. Luckily, that infatuation was still her little secret and she’d be taking it to the grave. What she’d seen in him she saw in Ms. Linders, only magnified by a factor of 10. For the first time in her life Leena was actually physically aroused just looking at someone.
Anyone, boy or girl, is perfectly free to go gaga over anyone of the opposite sex they want and the worst that can generally happen is they’ll get laughed at. While homosexuality had “officially” become a social non-issue, on a personal level you still faced the fact that jackasses will be jackasses. So when you’re that obvious about someone of the same sex then “the fit hits the shan”. Not only did most of the students notice her infatuation, but so did Ms. Linders.
So her social status among her peers took a pretty substantial hit, but for the most part it faded into obscurity as such things will with the sole exception of the most diehard assholes. The more immediate and embarrassing situation was that Ms. Linders kept her after class and gave her a “talk”. It was hands down the single most mortifying experience of her whole life.
As Ms. Linders began to address the class Leena had to admit she was still infatuated with her, she just made sure it didn’t show anymore. The black slacks and white blouse Ms. Linders was wearing accentuated her figure so well it took a good portion of Leena’s self-control not to stare.
“Okay everybody, it’s a testing day. Brick and Armor. Everyone to the back of the room, you know the drill.”
There was some grumbling, but everyone knew this was coming. They started with the rare powers at the beginning of the year and worked their way to the most common. This was one of the last two testing classes and Brick and Armor were so common that it would take this testing day and the next one to do everybody.
The Superhuman Studies room was divided into two unequal parts. The front of the room consisted of the desks, holographic boards, and televisions that were used during normal classes. The rear of the room was a testing area that was about 4 times larger than the front section. The equipment in the testing area changed depending on what was being tested. Today it was filled with hyper-dense weights, an impact machine, and a Plasma Field Device (PFD).
Once all the students had congregated at the back Ms. Linders addressed them. “Because Brick and Armor abilities are commonplace, and because low level Armor abilities may go unnoticed, we’re not going to single anybody out, everyone will be doing these tests. And as with all other tests even those of you who have already been licensed will still be participating. If you are one of those without a Brick or Armor ability, don’t worry, this equipment does have Class-0 ranges.” A few people let out audible sighs of relief.
Ms. Linders smiled. “We’re going to do this in alphabetical order and right down the line of equipment. You’ll go Brick, Physical Armor, and then Energy Armor. The weights go high enough to grade to Brick Class-4. The Impact Machine can grade to the upper end of Physical Armor Class-5. And the Plasma Field Device grades as high as Energy Armor Class-4. As with all previous testing if you are graded to at least Class-4, whether active or passive, the State Licensing Board will be notified and you will receive licensing information for that ability at the end of class. Those of you already licensed don’t need to worry about that. That being said, Stacey Abrams, you’re up first.”
Stacey stepped out of the group and walked over to the weights. She was a skinny, nervous looking brunette with glasses. The glasses were unusual because most supers didn’t have eye problems, with the sole exception of astigmatisms. No one was sure why, or at least a reason hadn't been made public.
She was a Class-3 Ice Elemental and had no Brick abilities, which explained her nervousness. There were only 5 sets of free-weight bars already pre-loaded, and 3 of the sets were on electromagnetic platforms. The Class-0 bar was loaded to 200lbs and each of the others was set to the minimum of the Class divisions: 1000lbs, 3000lbs, 8000lbs, and 20000lbs. You did a dead-lift with the bar and if you succeeded you tried the next one until you couldn’t lift. Actual licensing would narrow down the maximum weight, but this testing was just for the Class cut-offs.
She went to the Class-0 bar and just barely managed to lift it with Ms. Linders spotting her. Considering her size it was actually pretty amazing she managed it. She obviously couldn’t even budge the Class-1 bar.
“Very good, Stacey,” said Ms. Linders. “Now let’s move to the Impact Machine.”
The Impact Machine looked like a simple box that you put your hand in. Inside it, though, was a 1 square-centimeter pneumatic cylinder and a crap load of lasers and other measuring equipment. The cylinder was fired into the back of your hand at ever increasing speeds until some threshold was reached. Leena didn’t really understand how the machine worked, she just knew it cost more than most people's cars. It was also the only safe method to test Physical Armor outside of a multi-million dollar facility.
Stacey stuck her right hand in the device and Ms. Linders pushed a button on the side next to a digital readout. The machine started up with an audible whir and as it sped up Stacey started to grimace. It came to a dead stop after about 20 seconds.
“Congratulations,” Ms. Linders said with a smile as Stacey removed her hand from the machine. “It appears you have a Physical Armor Class of 1.”
Stacey looked surprised, as did several other students. Though not as precise as Brick ratings, Physical Armor tended to go hand-in-hand with the Brick Class. No Brick ever had a Physical Armor Class lower than their Brick Class, though some did have higher. It was actually pretty rare for someone without Brick abilities to have any ratable level of Physical Armor.
“Alright Stacey, last one.” Ms. Linders powered up the PFD.
People called it a Plasma Field Device, but really it was just a specialized Vandergrift Generator. Once it was discovered that there was a direct, though inexact, correlation between all forms of energy resistance – electricity, temperature, radiation, etc. – they developed the Plasma Generator as a benchmark test. A laser passed at a set distance from the small metal sphere where the energy built and you placed the tip of one of your fingers so it just broke the beam. The energy in the machine rose and your rating was determined by how much charge it had to build before it could shock you. Most people found it extremely irritating.
Stacey placed her right index finger in the beam and the machine started to charge. Everyone was quiet as the machines hum continued to build. Finally, just shy of the 3 minute mark, it happened. Zap! “Ahh, damnit!” shouted Stacey as she started shaking her hand and hopping around. “Mmnn-huhuhu-mmnn!” issued from her clenched lips in a testament to just how painful the shock was. No one laughed though. After all, their turn was coming.
When Stacey finally had herself under control Ms. Linders gave her a big smile. “It would appear that you officially have an Energy Armor Class of 4. Be sure to see me for the licensing packet at the end of class.” Stacey gasped. It was clear she hadn’t expected to have any ability strong enough to warrant mandatory licensing. Admittedly Armor licensing was used only for dangerous environment limitations, but it still required licensing when strong enough.
Stacey returned to the group with congratulations from her friends. It was well deserved, as less than a third of the class would require mandatory licensing for any ability at all.
“William Anderson, you’re next,” called Ms. Linders. A tall, lanky blonde kid walked over to the weights. He did his best on all the tests and walked away with a Class-0 in all three tests. As a Telepath-3/2 it wasn’t unexpected. People with mind powers seldom had physical enhancements.
“Leena Brightwater, your turn.” Leena nervously approached the weights. She was nervous for two reasons. First, this would be the first time she actually did any of the tests. Everybody knew she was strong and resilient, but this is the first time she’d be showing just how strong and resilient she really was in front of an audience.
Second, she hadn’t come forward when her primary power was originally discussed in class. No one outside her family knew about it, and all of them did their best to keep it that way. Since she could use her primary power to increase her strength she was also technically cheating on the testing. If you could actively augment a normally passive ability you were supposed to announce it so you could be tested for both active and passive levels.
Leena lifted the first four sets of weight without any effort, to the widening eyes of her fellow students. It only took her a minimal amount of real effort to lift the last and heaviest bar. One of the boys let out a low whistle, though considering where Leena saw his eyes looking that was for the way her breasts strained against her black T-shirt when she lifted the bar overhead.
As she set it down Ms. Linders gave her an assessing look and an easy smile. “Brick-4 at least. That’s excellent Leena. Be sure to see me for the licensing information at the end of class.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Leena mumbled. She was not comfortable with the way everyone was staring at her, but Katie was giving her a thumbs up which made her smile. She stepped over to the Impact Machine and put her right hand inside. Ms. Linders started the machine and Leena began to feel the rapid tapping of the piston on her hand.
Leena could tell the impact was increasing in intensity as the time ticked away. The constant “tap-tap-tap” was actually kind of annoying. Finally the machine stopped and she pulled out her hand.
Her breath hitched when she saw Ms. Linders smile. “Physical Armor 5+. I’m impressed Leena. If you max out the next machine you’ll be my first student this year to beat all 3 tests.”
Leena reminded herself to stay calm as she held her hand out toward the Plasma Generator. Why couldn’t it be someone her own age that made her feel this way, instead of the hottest teacher at school? Or even just someone she didn’t have to interact with on a daily basis.
The machine started up and the hum began to build. A few minutes went by and the hum started to reach annoying levels when finally the generator cut off. That meant it was getting to the point it was more likely to arc to the floor than zap her.
The students started clapping and Ms. Linders stepped right up next to her and placed a hand up on her shoulder, all the while beaming a thousand-watt smile. Her close proximity and the physical contact were too much and Leena felt tingles running through her body. It took all her self-control to breathe evenly. Thank God neither her bra nor shirt was made of thin material.
“Congratulations, Leena. With these results you should seriously consider applying to NSTI. The SRT is always looking for people with high Armor rankings.”
She managed to gather enough brain power to mumble a quick “Thank you” before slipping away back to the crowd. Damned hormones.
Leena slipped back into the crowd of students as Ms. Linders called the next name. Katie sidled up next to her. “Damn girl,” she whispered, “you’ve been holding out on us. Greg and I thought you were a Brick-3 at best.”
Leena shrugged and tried not to look chagrined. “I just don’t think it’s that big a deal, I guess.”
“Not a big deal?” Katie sounded just a little incredulous. “Here I’ve been letting you smack my boyfriend around and you don’t tell me you’re a Brick-4+”. Leena was worried and started to protest but Katie continued, “If I’d known I could have been threatening Greg with you all this time. I could get you to hold back from smacking him and then threaten him to let you start up again, only harder. Seriously Leena, you don’t keep this kind of possible relationship leverage from your friends.”
Leena had to bite down on her lip to keep from laughing as Katie grinned up at her. Katie gave her a quick side hug and said, “Don’t worry about it Leena. I know you’re too careful to risk rattling my boyfriend’s already rattled brain.”
“Thanks, I think,” Leena mumbled as they returned their attention to the testing.
They were about two-thirds through the class and about one-third through the students when the classroom door opened. Mr. Flanagan, the Social Studies teacher from across the hall, strode in. “Sorry to interrupt Ms. Linders, but I think you all need to see this.”
Before Ms. Linders could ask him what this was about he walked up to the TV in the corner of the room and turned it on. As the picture resolved into a Breaking News report he turned up the volume. The newswoman was reporting outside a large compound.
“…nated. Again, we have just received confirmation that the Healer Prime has been assassinated. Details are sketchy and government officials are being tight-lipped on how this was allowed to happen and whether or not the assassin has been apprehended. So far the only word we have is that the Healer Prime has been pronounced dead at the scene. We are currently waiting for…”
Leena tuned the rest out as the class started to erupt in speculative whispering. They were talking about why someone would kill the Healer Prime, how they could do it, and who would replace him. Leena’s own thoughts were perhaps a bit more callous. I’m screwed.