Crown of Thorns, Chapter 7

“Werewolves?”

Sandra laughed at my continued stream of questions, which popular myths about Metahumans were true and which were false. After I had stared out of the window for some time, maybe an hour or so, watching the unending fields of Kansas draw by, I had remembered words of wisdom my Grandmother had passed on to me, after my father had died. Her words had been, ‘Have the serenity to accept things you cannot change, the courage to change the things you can and the wisdom, to know the difference.” I had since learned that it was originally a christian prayer, but I liked her version better. And, I knew that my situation had elements of both, I needed to accept what I was but change the fact that I was dangerous to others.

Training my powers in the car was obviously out, not that I really knew how to do so, but, as the saying went, knowledge is power. And I had a victim for all the questions I could think of, hopefully allowing me to gain more knowledge than I had before. I had already asked her about aliens, so far, there had been none from space but one might consider the beings from other planes aliens, and about vampires, a few Metahumans had traits that could be the origin. Logically, the next question was about werewolves.

“They exist. Or rather, there are quite a lot of Avatar-type Metahumans that have animal-spirits and can take on the shape of their Avatar-partner or a halfway form. But even in their normal form, they have improved physical abilities, but the extent of them depends on the connection they have with their partner, at least as far as I know.” 

“So, no infective bite?” I asked with a grin. 

“No, no infective bite, there is no known mechanism to reliably trigger a Metahuman transformation and the experiments have been nothing short of inhumane.”

“Bummer.” I laughed, “You mentioned Avatar’s now a couple of times and that they share their body with spirits. But what are spirits? I mean, if you say werewolf, I guess some sort of wolf but what else can there be?” I asked, trying to get more facts on one of the two possibilities I considered to fall under.

“There are no rules to what can be a Spirit, at least no rules that I know of. I have heard of fire-spirits, I have heard of plant-spirits, I have heard of animal spirits and so on. The current theory is that spirits come from other planes and drifted into our world by accident. No idea how accurate that is, but it’s the theory that I was taught.” she explained, scratching her head a little. 

“Why not ask them? I mean, you say they communicate with their hosts so…”

“It’s been tried. Sadly, if you ask a plant where it is from, no matter how sapient it has become thanks to universal essence, the answer will not help you. The few spirits who remember being sapient and alive were all non-human entities from other realms. But those are rare and quite often a little strange.” 

I was not quite sure I liked that explanation. My best guess was that the strange language I had spoken had come from a spirit but if they were mostly non-sapient, I had either a rare spirit or something else was going on. But with her being unsurprised about me, using a strange language to work my power and assigning it to a mystic, the language might be part of being a mystic. Hopefully, people at the school could help me more. 

“So, what about Super Scientists?” I asked, looking for more knowledge. 

“Complicated. Some things I would call Super Science, and its creator could be called Super Scientists. But, what exactly is Super Science to you?” she turned the tables on me, stopping my questions with one of her own.

“Science only possible if done by Metahumans? You know, like in the movies.” I tried to explain myself, but was caught a little off guard. It was hard to explain, the movies often displayed super-scientists creating incredibly cool gadgets in a ten-second long montage of them doing… things or their counterparts, the mad scientists with their plans to take over the world, thanks to their latest ginormous superweapon. 

Sandra was visibly amused by my floundering, but started to explain anyway. 

“There are two classes you would probably call super-science. One are tinkers, basically, their power is an instinctual understanding on certain technologies, it can be as simple as someone who is able to understand sound-systems better than anyone, it can be as strange as someone who instinctively understands metallurgy and can create incredible alloys or it can be as complex as someone who has an instinctual understanding of electrical systems.

The exact extent of their abilities depends on the individual and they only work in the realm of real science, just in ways unique to them. With enough reverse engineering and effort, their ideas can be replicated and used by anyone. Interestingly, their individual intellect is not generally enhanced, there are tinkers who are brilliant outside of their field and there are tinkers who can only be described as idiots. 

“On the other hand, there are gadgeteers, whose power it is to make gadgets. Basically, they make something that quite often only works for them, as an extension or a channel of their power. Sometimes, it works for others, but only if it is built by the gadgeteer. If anyone other than the gadgeteer opens it, it is just an unholy mess of confusing parts but due to the power of the gadgeteer, it works.” Sandra finished her explanation with a laugh. 

“Enchanters and alchemists are quite similar, only that they have a magic-fetish, so to speak. They can take a stick and ‘enchant’ it” she let go of the wheel for a second to make air quotes, “and afterwards it will do whatever they enchanted it to do. Similarly with alchemists, they can make potions that do whatever they made it to do. Same rules, with some of them it only works for the creator, with others it works for everyone.”

I blinked in confusion, that sounded strange.

“What happens if they are confronted with the fact that reality should not work that way, the gadgeteers, I mean.” I asked, voicing my first thought. 

“Depends. Most often, they just ignore you, maybe calling you a small minded fool that cannot appreciate their greatness. If you manage to convince them, bad things happen. Sometimes, they have a nervous breakdown and lose their powers, sometimes their gadgets go wild and try to kill their creator or you, sometimes, the gadgeteer just finds a new idea to latch on, maybe that God gave him his abilities or aliens.

Similarly with enchanters and alchemists, but they have the advantage that Metahumans break the normal laws of physics on a regular basis. Compared to someone who can teleport, is someone who brews a healing potion so strange?”

“Okay, granted. Still, it seems strange.” I looked out of the window again, wondering just how an area could be so boring, there was just flat land, mostly filled with wheat and a few houses in the distance. No trees, no hills, no nothing, just flatness.

“How about kaiju? I’ve seen them on the news” I asked, after seeing nothing even remotely interesting outside. 

“Oh, dear. Another simple and short question, right?” Sandra asked with a small groan.

“But what are they? And that’s the last question for now, I promise.” I added, feeling a little embarrassed at my endless stream of questions.

“I just wish there was a simple and easy answer. But there is not. Literally, a kaiju is just a strange creature.” Sandra must have seen me nodding at that, I was not really fluent in Japanese, but that, I knew. 

“So, kaiju is generally the label that the media slaps on everything that is biological, big and destructive. They simply ignore the source, which can be a mad scientist’s experiment gone wrong or it could be a being that escaped from a rip into our world. Or something else entirely.

“Now, amongst Metahumans, a Kaiju defined as the result of an animal developing powers similar to a Metahuman, taking in Universal Essence and changing as a result of it. Most of the time, they just get a little bigger or faster or something like that, but sometimes, it gets taken to a magnitude eleven or maybe twelve. And if that happens, you see it on the news as a kaiju and for once, they get it right. For example, the legendary Godzilla that came out of Tokyo Bay a couple of decades ago? Current theory is that it was some kind of small lizard that some dickhead threw off a boat and it managed to get the ability to take in Universal Energy and grow big.”

My mind boggled a little at the idea of a random animal suddenly turning into a city-destroying menace and I wondered what happened if the animal had been a pet. Would it still be loyal to their owner? Maybe that was what had occured in ancient egypt, where they worshipped cats as gods, a cat, or maybe a couple of cats, had gained powers and used them to enslave the humans. Weirdly, I could easily imagine a cat doing something like that. At least, they had enough sand for litter-boxes over there, no matter how large the cat. 

“They are not inherently malicious or evil, but, well, if an apex-predator, let’s say a crocodile, turns from their normal size of maybe twenty feet, which is plenty scary, into something truly nightmarish? Imagine an eighty feet long crocodile with an appetite for meat and little care where it gets its next meal from. Add enough speed to catch up to a car going thirty, maybe forty miles an hour and a jaw that can crush a tank. The result has people running to the hills as fast as they can, all the while calling for either the army or meta-humans to save them.” She paused for a second, gathering her thoughts.

“If you ever meet a kaiju in the wild, treat it with the respect it deserves. I’m quite sure that often kaiju are approached wrong, with fear and hostility, causing them to respond in kind. But, maybe that is just my personal hope. You know, riding on a building-sized pony.” she added with a grin that made me wonder if she was trying to make a fool out of me. 

The next couple of hours passed with the speed of dripping tar, at room temperature. That is to say, slowly and mind numbingly boring. For a while, we amused ourselves by singing along to music but even that got boring. We stopped a couple of time, to stretch and get fuel, either for the car of for us and those spots, especially the vigorous stretching and sparring, helped break up the boredom. But even that was not enough to keep the sheer monotony from making me doubt my sanity. Hours upon hours of flat planes, field next to field, some wheat, some grain, some grass. For the first time, I understood the term, flyover-country. If only I could fly. At one point, we left Kansas behind and entered Colorado. Not that one would have noticed, if not for the sign saying so. The landscape hardly changed, the same boring flatness continued.

For the first time, since I had changed, I started to truly think about what it meant to me. I was no longer the same person as before, that seemed to be obvious. But at the same time, was I really? What made a person into who they were? Was it a physical attribute, but that would mean that if a person physically changed, due to an injury for example, they would be a different human. Partially, that felt true, but at the same time, it did not. And did anyone really knew who they were? Who had I been before I had changed? Who was I now? I felt my mind going in circles, trying to make sense of my condition but after a while I gave up. Grandfather had told stories of monks, trying to find themselves, so who was I to know myself? I would have to get to know the new me, just as I had learned who I had been before. 

After a while, the silence got to both, Sandra and me, so we started to play word-chain games but with only two people, that got boring almost as fast as the surrounding landscape. Still, we managed to hang on with it for about half an hour. Finally, Sandra broke down and asked me to ask questions again. I had to laugh at the desperation in her voice, but at least, it was something to do. 

“Hm, can you tell me about the Academy? You said it’s a good school but not a lot more.” I asked.

Sandra thought for a second, before answering. “Sure, let’s start with the beginning. Potestatem was established to give young Metahumans a chance, a chance to learn without fear and without persecution. At first, it was a wholly private institution, established by one of the more powerful Metas as his legacy. He realised that a school full of Metahuman children might be a juicy target for those with unsavory ideas so he managed to get a buy-in from the government and the Company.” I frowned at the unfamiliar name, but didn’t interrupt her.

“Both parties agreed to honour the Academies neutrality, for those who ignore the law, it was a valuable way to get their offspring out of the line of fire and for the government, it was a good way to make sure that Metahumans were kept sane. Few things are more dangerous than an insane Metahuman, you don’t know what they will do next and chances are, they don’t know either. And, if they are purely driven by their emotion, they often cause intense destruction before they are taken down, often resulting in loss on both sides. In addition, for a Metahuman, knowing that he had to kill a child, just because the child was not able to take what the world was throwing at it and used their powers to retaliate against the world, that can mess one up.” She trailed off, maybe thinking about something that had happened to her or about herself. Both were very much possible.

“What is the Company?” I asked after a moment of silence, causing Sandra to laugh.

“I thought you wanted to know about the Academy? But, fine, the Company first.

The Company. How to describe them. Well, you could say that you will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. Or you could describe them as the premiere law-firm of the world, with branches all over the globe.” Hearing the description I had to giggle.

“It is a rather open secret that they are the biggest facilitator for Metahuman crime but at the same time they are very good when it comes to keeping their hands clean. In essence, they can get you whatever you want. If you can meet their price, of course. It makes them a valuable commodity for everyone working on the other side of the law, for example, you need a new identity? Hand over some money and they get you an airtight set, against an additional fee including childhood friends and yearbook-entries. Or, do you have a stolen nuke to sell? They will happily take it off your hands and sell it to the next buyer.

“My only advice, when it comes to the Company, be careful. They will keep their word and you should, too or nobody will ever find your body.” I swallowed hard, wondering why such a group was able to operate. But it was rather obvious, I had read about the old-day mafia and that they had only been indicted for tax-evasion. So, a group of possibly Metahuman lawyers would keep their hands squeaky clean, while knifing you. If necessary. Part of me wondered what ‘whatever you want’ entailed but a bigger part decided that sometimes, ignorance was truly bliss.

“So, the Academy?” I asked, getting back to the previous topic.

“Right, the Academy. Their goal is to allow Metahumans to follow their own path in life, no matter where it takes them. If you want to be a criminal mastermind you will benefit from their education, even if there are no official classes on how to be a criminal. Well, other than the normal classes on criminal law or the architecture of a Metahuman-hideout. And I think there are a couple of clubs, sponsored by the Company that go into that direction, but nothing overt. Both, Company and government are forbidden from recruiting outside of the annual job-fair. 

“But back to the classes. They focus on the subjects that are not geared towards sending you into a life dominated by your power. If you want to be an architect, they will happily prepare you for college, if you want to be a scientist, the same. They just also teach you how to live with your power, how to control it and even how to deal with the prejudice you will encounter out there. Too many people think that all Metahumans are putting on a tight costume and either fighting or committing crime. Those are actually in the minority, and not just because a lot of powers are completely useless in a fight.  I mean, could you imagine fighting Metahuman-crime with the power to let a light, about as bright as a flashlight, shine from your forehead?

“Anyway, the easiest way to keep people out of trouble is to give them something to lose. If you have a good job and maybe even a family, you are much less likely to go commit crimes. Every metahuman that goes into a normal job and registers as a reservist with the local Heroes’ Group is an asset if there is ever need for one and the government saves a lot of money and headaches. So, the government is quite content to let people go into a civilian job after finishing the Academy, knowing that a majority will register as reservists out of a sense of duty. Only very few go into a life of crime.

“To put it into numbers, maybe three percent of the population has some sort of power and amongst them, maybe ten percent, meaning three or four out of a thousand, have a serious power. For a city like Springfield, that would mean about four-hundred heroes or villains of various ages. There are fifteen full-time, active Heroes in the city and that is a pretty good quota. Others have a lot less, others have a lot more.

“And that is why the Academy exists, to make sure that Metahumans out in the world have options and don’t simply default to go into crime because they don’t know what else to do.” She finished, giving me a glance to see me nod. In a way, it was obvious. For the first time, I put the numbers into perspective with the overall population, only now understanding how many Metahumans there actually were. In my old school, there had been about two-hundred people per year, so there would be six who got powers and apparently I got the jackpot with a serious power, if you wanted to see it like that.

“How many students go to the Academy?” I asked, trying to calculate how many people would have a serious power and thus a serious reason to attend.

“I think there are about a thousand people per year. There is a bit of fluctuation, as some people still develop their powers during high school. The vast majority gets their powers in the last year of middle-school or the first year of highschool and for some reason, maybe stress and fear of the unknown, the biggest spike is during summer vacation the year before high-school, with over fifty percent getting their powers in those three months. So, there will be about eight-hundred people to start the year and of those eight-hundred about five-hundred won’t have their powers for much longer than you. The remaining spots will be held back for problematic cases.”

“You mean, problematic cases, like mine?” I asked, still a bit bitter about my situation.

“Honestly, yes. I know, it’s not something nice to say but as long as you don’t understand your powers and can’t control them, you are dangerous. And don’t sulk, it is ill-becoming. See your situation as something positive, you know the old saying, with great power comes great responsibility? Well, you have great power and it is your responsibility to master it.” she scolded me but it was a gentle scolding, reminding me not to be a baby.

“In addition, you need to understand something. You should always think of your glass as half-full, not half-empty. In your case, you should remember what you have, not what you don’t have. Want me to list the things that could have gone a different way?” she asked, her voice serious.

There was no need, her explanation from yesterday was still fresh in my mind. My body was still looking human, even good-looking, just now female. Depending on the events, the circumstances of getting my powers might have played out differently. Who knew if getting my specific powers had something to do with the circumstances I had been in, who knew if otherwise, I would have suddenly gotten my powers during highschool and destroyed the school, killing everyone inside. Or, I could have died in that circle, losing my life then and there.

“No, I think I know what you mean.” I answered in a soft voice.

“Good. Now, back to the Academy. The whole thing is set in a forested valley and the buildings are made to blend into the environment. But you will see that when we get there. I could explain the layout to you, but it is rather hard to do so, until we get there and you can see it for yourself. I will give you a tour, as an alumni I’m allowed to do so. At least I think I am. But, hey, look, we can already see the mountains from here.” She forcibly changed to topic away from the slightly heavy subject we had been on before and directed my gaze forward. Quite literally.