After boarding the sub, Kat and Gene were ushered through a series of security checks and medical examinations, and ended their bureaucratic journey at a frosted glass laboratory door. Lady Drake had dropped them off and told them to go into the lab to get “suited up”. She didn’t say what they would be suiting up for, but she dashed off down the hall before they could ask her. Kat shrugged, unaffected, and pushed open the glass door.
The two of them had actually seen all kinds of things that would have sent any normal person into an existential crisis before. People with superhuman powers up close, alien organs preserved for medical use, and other unbelievable sights they had run into during their vigilante activities. But what they saw when they walked through the lab door was new to them, to say the least.
A shark, more than ten feet long with glassy black eyes, was chest-level to Gene in the middle of the room. It was surrounded by tidy tables full of beakers, chemicals, and all manner of scientific equipment. The shark’s most noticeable feature, however, was the pair of well-pressed slacks it was wearing- or rather the fact that it was wearing them. A pair of human legs sprouted directly out of the underside of the shark’s body, leaving its head and tail sagging slightly over its classy belt. A clipboard hovered in the air slightly in front of one eye, but it quickly floated over to a table and seemingly set itself down as the two heroes-in-training stood, shocked, in the doorway.
They suddenly heard a voice, deep and sophisticated, echo inside their heads. “Oh, I apologize. I wasn’t quite prepared for more arrivals yet. Please take a seat.” As Kat and Gene heard this voice in their thoughts, the shark seemed to gesture with its entire body to a row of modern-looking seating against one wall.
Kat guessed, finding no other explanation, that the disembodied voice must be coming from the shark. We’d better do what he says, she thought, I don’t want to know what’ll happen if I disobey orders a shark gave. The shark turned back to her as she walked to the seats, Gene following, and she heard the voice again, saying, “It’s quite rude to assume one’s countenance solely because of their appearance.” She froze, and turned to the shark, which was looking right at her with its glazed eyes. It appeared to be waiting for something. “S… sorry?” she tried, feeling silly talking to a fish, even if it had legs. “No harm done, young lady,” the voice- or apparently, the shark, said. “I’m certain it’s unsettling having to watch your very thoughts. Believe me, if I could choose not to hear other’s surface-level thoughts, I most certainly would.”
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“Hear thoughts?” Gene said aloud, suddenly. It was jarring to Kat, after just having a mostly mental conversation, to hear a voice outside of her own head. “No one told us you could read thoughts. Or… or other things.”
“Ah, they must be speeding off to pick up more recruits then. My apologies for any confusion, then. I am Dr. Selachii, and I oversee medical, scientific, and psychic activities here. And yes, in addition to being a doctorate scientist, I am a shark. A tiger shark- Galeocerdo cuvier, if you must know- mutated through forces unknown even to myself, and now able to walk, breath air, speak psychically, and manipulate objects in many ways with psychic energies. And your names, if I’m not mistaken,” he said, looking at his clipboard once again, “Are Eugene Simon and Katherine Starling, my next appointments.”
“Appointments?” said both Gene and Kat, not wanting to go through any kind of medical examination by even the most well-spoken shark. “Yes,” chuckled the shark’s voice, “But don’t worry, this isn’t any normal medical examination. I will psychically test each of you, as I have done with the other recruits, to see that you are able to perform on an appropriate level- and to confirm that you won’t be a danger to others.”
“I’m not sure that that makes me feel any better, but I guess we should get started,” Gene said. The voice of the shark boomed inside of his head as reality warped and faded before him, “Very well.”
* * *
Terrence Palmer opened his laptop on his new desk. It was unusual, trying to do everyday office work on board a submarine full of superheroes, but he was excited to get back in the field to some extent after being cooped up in an office for so long. After he finished typing up the preliminary reports, he would take some time to get familiar with the sub he was on- the Hadal. The Hadal was the twin of the Benthic, and while it was used primarily for bunks and recreation areas, the Benthic was the main training facility for the DSA’s program.
He had read reports of some of the superpowered individuals that would be trained, as well as some of the instructors, and knew that there were many different facilities onboard both vessels that would prove useful for them- and therefore required at least a quick inspection. He looked over a map that had been on his small desk when he first unpacked, and ran his finger over a few marked areas. Water entries in each sub… Impact-proof training rooms… A lead-lined isolation chamber… And generators strong enough to power cities. So many specially designed facilities for this program. And, if even one didn’t function properly, then everyone onboard could die.
Terrence gulped despite his excitement, and straightened his tie. This was going to be an interesting assignment.