Academy #0 - "Lecture Hall" - copyright 1994 by Dave Van Domelen a Coherent Comics UnIncorporated Production ========================================================================== [The cover is designed to look like a Student Handbook, with the insignia of the Academy inprinted on the center. A hand-scrawled note in the lower right reads, "Transfer NOW!!!"] Earth. To look down on it from space, you'd hardly know that anyone lived there. Unless you had senses beyond the human norm, that is. And you certainly wouldn't be able to tell that a mere generation ago, the population had been more than twice its current level. Descending, you could start to pick out the larger cities, the coloration distinctive of farmlands, the oddly straight rivers that turn out to be canals. Getting closer, into the atmosphere, you start to lose the impression of a globe and feel more like you're suspended above a flat surface. The particular flat surface in this case is Northern Wisconsin, North American Combine. Although there are places more desolate and depopulated, the sparsely scattered towns of this wooded expanse do a better job of *feeling* like the middle of nowhere. Once a major center for the incarceration of superhuman felons was located here. They called it the Northwoods Correctional Facility officially. Unofficially it was called the Pit. But there haven't been significant numbers of supervillains in nearly a generation. And although that is starting to change, years ago the place was converted to more 'noble' purposes. Now it is called simply the Academy. Unofficially, some call it the Academy of Super-Heroes, both after the famed superteam of the previous century and because it essentially *is* an academy for young superheroes. And unofficially, some there still call it the Pit. Today is a major day in the history of the Academy, although its isolated nature doesn't lend itself to pomp and celebration. Today, August 15, 2022, the brief summer vacation ends, and the first class to graduate from the collegiate level of the Academy begins Graduate study. In being heroes. * * * * The lecture hall, like most structures in the Academy, was deep underground. Originally this served the purpose of making the facility extremely difficult to escape from...even teleporters wouldn't risk "popping out" without knowing exactly how deep they were being housed. Optical pipes channel daylight from the surface to "windows" now, to lessen the claustrophobic effect. Of course, as has been true throughout time, any classroom is stifling to the student who doesn't want to be there. A few students shift in their seats, obviously in the "not wanting to be here" group. One in particular looks angry, but does a fair job hiding it from most of his classmates. However, most are either excited to be starting the year, or at least glad for the change of routine from whatever they did to occupy the vacation. A small knot of students clusters around a couple who beam proudly. Looking closer reveals the pair is showing off new wedding rings to the (sometimes sarcastic) admiration of their friends. An extremely large Italian-looking man turns from the newlyweds and looks wistfully at a woman in the corner. She fakes being intensely interested in her books, avoiding making eye contact with anyone. Moments after the large man sighs and turns back to the group, the woman takes a shy glance at another young man in the classroom. This one has already read all the orientation materials and sits at attention, focused on the lectern as if his eyes were boring holes in it. He sits like a spring coiled perhaps a bit too tightly, too ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. The social dynamics fade rapidly as the professor enters the room. Students sit down and do their best to look attentive. Some succeed, some fail. The professor takes no heed, knowing his words will quickly gain their attention, and more fully than they might expect. He opens a folder, glances at it and the small class, and closes it with a nod. "I suppose traditionally you'd be given a speech about the Academy, its history and purpose, and all that rot. But without exception, you've all been attending the Academy since at least two years ago, so there's not much you need to know. You also know that you've been chosen on the basis of your abilities to participate in this program, which I suppose is most easily described as Advanced Superhero Studies. But don't refer to it by the initials of that, please." He smiled slightly before continuing. "Most of you register on the Tesla Index as Supernaturals in at least one area, and several of you have potential in all areas. A few of your number are merely Supernormal, but have trained themselves in skills highly useful in combat and emergency situations. Everyone else in your graduating class has moved on to some sort of 'civilian' employment or advanced study in traditional programs...and some of you may end up joining them. "All of you have the power and potential to be great heroes. Physically. But a major part of this program will be to determine who has it in them MENTALLY and ETHICALLY to be true heroes," he tapped loudly on the podium to emphasize his words. "Oh, I see a few of you glancing at people you think won't make that grade, but keep in mind that none of you are considered to be automatically out. A few managed to graduate while still showing obviously 'unheroic' attitudes and no intention to change. They were placed in positions where this wouldn't be a liability. And you recall the case of Mr. Radner, who thought he could be a 'supervillain' during his leisure time. Some of you even helped bring him to justice. His type is not in this room...at least as far as we can ensure it. And in my experience, some of the greatest heroes of the past have started off on less-than-certain moral grounds. Strafe, who saved Chicago from destruction, started as a petty thief but became one of the most self-sacrificing heroes the world has known. It just takes the right opportunity for a cretin to become a hero...and we'll be giving you all as many such opportunities as we can." The professor paused for a moment and fixed his gaze on each person in the room, as if checking their souls for blemishes that would have to be burned away. A few students started to look uneasy as they realized the professor hadn't given his name, and they'd never seen him before...or maybe they did. The sixty-or-so year old man had greying brown hair, an unremarkable physique and not particularly odd clothing. They could have seen him a hundred times but not remarked on it. Before any could ask his name, he continued. "However, the real purpose of this session is to give you the truth. While most schools give you the facts about administration and the like, you already know all that...but you don't know the truth about the past. Few do. You may know rumors, or sanitized versions of the story, but I'm here today to tell you what *really* happened on July 6th, 1998." As he had expected, this got their attention and held it. July 6, 1998... Doomsday. The End of the World As We Know It. The day all the supernaturals vanished, along with more than half the world's population. "The Causality Wars." The name just hung there, like a sword poised over the audience. Even more than twenty years later, it still invoked a feeling of dread. The name itself was known only as part of a radio broadcast made by the legendary Tymythy Twystyd as he rallied forces to stop it from consuming the entire world. The professor continued. "You all know about the so-called Godmarket from your history studies. You also know the rumors that the various pagan gods and demons seeking worshippers in 1997 and 1998 ignited the Causality Wars. This is wrong. Oh, it's close to the truth, and it assigns the blame to the right party, but the Godmarket didn't ignite the Causality Wars. They've been raging throughout time and space for millenia. What we experienced was merely a very minor battle in a very large war, a war which involved powers as far beyond our comprehension as we are beyond that of a stone. Most of the casualties were the result of these godlings draining power from worshippers to use in attacks or defense. That everyone then alive with active Magenes was also taken has been attributed to various things...chance, stacking the deck since many supernaturals were worshippers, or simply being better fuel for the fires of hungry gods when the willing worshippers ran dry. In fact, it was none of these reasons. "A circle of magick wielders determined almost instantly that the extradimensional powers would drain Earth dry of all life before their battle would end. Earth needed a weapon against the 'gods.' And they got it in Tymythy Twystyd, also known as Timothy Bose." A minor commotion broke out in the class. "Yes, I know some of you were raised in the Chyrch of Tym, and this does confirm your beliefs in part. But understand this: Tym was not a god. He wouldn't want to be worshipped as one, and gave his life to stop the actions of other gods. What he *was* is a hero. He pooled the power of every last person on Earth with any scrap of Magene power and channeled it into...something. We'll never know exactly what he did, but it saved Earth and locked the gods out again. It also cost us a major resource, and the world's economy was rocked to its foundations. The loss of three billion or so normal people didn't help much. Neither did the panic caused by fear that death was merely postponed, not prevented. A fundamentalist fever gripped the world, people turning as far against the pagan gods as they could. Atheism also gained more followers, but the atheists didn't burn people at the stake or stone them to death. It was worst in the Moslem nations where religious intolerance was stronger to begin with...anyone suspected of being an infidel was killed by crazed mobs. Even the United States, bastion of cynicism that it is, had a few lynchings based on religion during the two years of near-chaos that followed. Many of you have first-hand experience with this, having lost one or both parents to the madness. The world became strongly polarized. Fundamentalist or Atheist. Children born very powerful or totally normal, thanks to the Owens Effect. Totalitarian governments or anarchies. All of you remember how only recently the North American Combine restored even a pretense of democracy and civil rights. China is still a closed nation, and the few remaining tribes of Africa are the largest organized groups for most of the continent. "This is the world you've grown up to inherit, to protect. Good luck, you'll need it." His tone shifted from earnest to almost bored as he finished with, "Your schedules should be accurate, if not consult with the secretary. Not that there's much to arrange, you all take the same three classes plus individual study. Oh, and Mr. Taylor, please follow me to my office. That will be all for this session." The class broke up, some practically running out of the room and others milling about to discuss the new revelations. John Taylor parted from his new wife, assuring her it wasn't anything bad, at least he hoped so, and followed the professor out of the room. The two walked in silence to the Hub of the underground structure. The professor wasn't volunteering anything, and John felt uncomfortable with breaking the silence. They passed a group of Freshmen rushing from one lecture to another and boarded a tubecar, which rapidly whisked them to the office area near the surface. Finally, they reached a modestly appointed office, an office that oddly had no name on the door. Simply the title "Professor" with no name inscribed after it. They entered and the professor inclined his head to indicate John should take a seat. Then the professor sat behind the desk. Silence. Finally, John's curiosity got the better of his respect for authority, and he opened his mouth. "Why am I here?" "Sorry, metaphysics isn't my strong suit. But I suppose you're in no mood for my attempts at humor. John, according to all tests performed, you aren't living up to your potential. Oh, your gravitic powers are impressive, but you use them unimaginatively. You settle for mere brute force applications, when yours is the power to manipulate the very fabric of reality. And don't try to say you're just not very imaginative...I've read some of the works you wrote for your humanities courses. Are you afraid of yourself, John?" John was surprised by the blunt question. He stammered, "I-I'm not sure. I guess I've never really thought about it. I never needed to do more, and... well...I guess it's partly my upbringing. You know, if you've read my files, that my mother remarried when I was five. My father was very atheistic, almost militantly so. I guess I was raised with the value system that the miraculous is bad. Look...you're not the Counselor, and I've talked to her enough times already. As long as I stay on top of the game, perform well enough to keep up, why should I try to do more?" John surprised himself with his last outburst, but he only seemed to disgust the professor. "Damn it, that's NOT the attitude I want to see from anyone, least of all someone with your potential. And no, I'm not the Counselor. The Counselor's job is to make sure no one slips into insanity or maladjustment. She's not responsible for pushing anyone above the norm, just keeping them from dropping below it. That's MY job now. And 'just getting by' will get you killed extremely fast as a superhero. Trust me, I've seen too many go down that way. Almost had it happen to myself once." "Wait...you were a superhero? But you're...." "Too old? Well, yes. By all rights I should have disappeared with everyone else. But I was lost in another felching *galaxy* for a decade, the result of my own overconfidence. When I got back, it was to a ruined world. Sometimes I think I might have made a difference had I been here...found a way to stop the threat without such a terrible sacrifice. Your powers are so much like mine, John. I don't want to see you end up regretting the choice not to be all you can. Especially since you could so easily find yourself in my boots, wondering what might have been if you'd been somehow better...." John's expression became one of shock as he realized who the professor was. "You're...." "Yes, I'm Solar Max, one-man intergalactic space program and the guy who helped stop Lord Ebon's big push in 1996." "Why...why didn't you let anyone know you were back before? The world needed heroes, damn it! Um, sir." "The world I came back to may have needed heroes, but it didn't *want* them very much. So I stayed under wraps, working behind the scenes. Who do you think pushed the hardest for founding the Academy? Sure, Senator Ping was the public founder, but I convinced him to stick his neck out on it. I figured the best solution was to make sure the new generation of supernaturals got the proper training and indoctrination. Yes, you've been indoctrinated, even if you don't know it. The ends are being used to justify the means a lot in today's society. But at least your indoctrination is gentle, unlike what Khadam does to its acquisitions. And although it may be ethically questionable to warp someone's mind, the fact we're doing it to make you better heroes makes the bitter pill go down a little less harshly. Heh," he snorted, "my age is showing. To you kids the whole idea of freedom of thought is a bit quaint, it's only now coming back into fashion. For a while free-thinkers were a liability, after all. Don't worry, though...I feel enough guilt over this for all of you." John shrugged. "I don't feel like I've been brainwashed." "Well, it's not that blatant. It's been more subtle...the way your lessons in secondary and college coursework were structured, the kinds of entertainment you've been allowed, et cetera. No modern-type high-tech mindtwisting...just good old-fashioned indoctrination to an ideal. If you can tell it's there, it failed. But anyway, this was done mainly to prevent the bottom ranks from turning totally evil. You can't breed a hero, a hero has to make himself. And that's what I want you to do. Make yourself a hero." "I'll try, Dr. Van Domelen." "Ah, I see you remember my 'Secret Identity.' Well, don't tell anyone. Not even your wife. Officially, I'm just 'The Professor.' Certain people didn't even want me telling you, but I felt it would help you overcome this mental laziness you're in the grip of. Now run along, you've got other activities scheduled today." John stood and saluted, then left. The professor looked mildly irritated at being saluted to, but then grinned once the door was closed. He walked to an armored panel in the wall, previously a weapons-locker for the guard station this room once was. Tapping in an access code, he opened it, revealing an alien suit of space armor, painted red with a yellow band down the left side of the chest and the front of the left leg. An orange sunburst radiated from near the top of the band. The professor patted it affectionately, running a quick finger over the small pits and dents in the chestplate. "Still fits like a glove," he mused to the empty air. "But hopefully I can pass it on someday soon...." * * * * CLASS ROSTER (partial, several candidates require only an additional quarter to graduate college level) Drake, Anthony "Tony" - Totally invulnerable to physical harm. However, his nerve endings are still active, and he feels the pain of blows. Grant-Taylor, Sarah - Hyperspeed, capable to operating 20 times faster than normal human levels. Theoretical top speed of 480 kph hampered by wind resistance and endurance problems. Maximum sustained speed of 190 kph observed. Married John Taylor (q.v.) after graduation. Henderson, Howard (Junior) - First full-fledged magician to graduate from the Academy. Specializes in elemental magicks (Law 2), son of DSHA head Howard Henderson, overcompensates for perceived special treatment. Kelsey, Arin - Able to explode with the force of a ton of TNT. Needs training to enable finer applications of power. Very shy, needs additional work on assertiveness. Kleinvogel, Jen - Can create an antigravity sheath which allows her to fly and renders her partially invisible. Has yet to demonstrate any more general gravitic effects, tests as strongly spiked in TI. Napier, Salvatore "Big Sal" - Superhuman strength, capable of pressing several tons under controlled conditions. Quite intelligent, but hides behind a facade of "Italian Goon" stereotypes. Rodriguez, Sara Ana "Essay" - One of the few in the class not registering as supernatural, her intuitive gadgeteering talent was considered enough of a combat asset to allow her in. Additionally, her attitude did not suit her for engineering work, and she rarely builds anything that can be used by others. Bodybuilding in connection with her generally supernormal Tesla Index has given her marginally superhuman strength, which is useful considering the bulk of some of her inventions. Scorch (nee Scott Handleman) - Flame projector, legally changed his name to Scorch at age 18. Acts like the typical 'hothead' but is capable of being quite cool and collected when he needs to. St.James, Sean "Popper/Pops" - Teleporter, short range. Parents both killed in an accident when he was 14. Despite this, he's well-adjusted and even gregarious. Sylvester, George - Manifested his ability when he learned Thermodynamics. Able to increase the efficiency of energy directed at him, effectively violating the 2nd Law of Thermodynamics. Normally converts heat into offensive punch or shifts attacking energy into a form less likely to harm him. Frighteningly powerful when working with Scorch. Taylor, John Zachary "Jakzak" - Gravitic powers: object manipulation, flight, defensive screens. Needs to learn subtler applications. Married Sara Grant (q.v.) right after graduation. Teller, Jason William - Very minor telekinetic powers, only in the supernormal range. However, was inspired by his near-namesake (William Tell) to use his powers to gain supernal accuracy with any form of ranged weaponry. Long practice has enabled him to strengthen his TK in the 'push' direction only, letting him fire attacks without need of a bow or gun, although he's more effective if fully armed. Tracey, Dan "Grind" - Only barely supernormal, let alone supernatural. An intensely dedicated young man, he's pushed himself to the utmost, both physically and mentally. Capable of defeating even Mr. Napier in hand to hand combat. A brilliant tactician and detective. The classical "Super-man" if there ever was one. However, this has left him socially less-than-adept, and his dedication may prove to be hollow when he's presented with his first real moral crisis. Zander, Aaron - Psi talent, his ability to use 'mind over matter' to enhance his own physical attributes and heal injuries landed him in this program. However, this separated him from his lover, Paul Mahler, who was accepted into MetaPsych on graduation. Has made five transfer requests to date, none accepted. Someone at the top keeps blocking them. I only hope that whoever is making this decision knows what he's doing. A disgruntled telepath can make the entire group agitated.