“I heard a little rumor about you,” professor Holt tells me in Friday’s class. Brody is hiding out in 648 again to escape Joseph’s attention, but we agreed I should make an appearance in class once a while.

“And you believed it?” I mock - if he wants to talk gossip I think it’s fair enough, even if he is a decent teacher.

“I’m not sure,” he admits. “It relates to why you weren’t in class yesterday.”

“If someone told you I got drunk and had to sleep it off, then yes, that is totally what happened.”

“And if someone told me you worked all through the night and had to sleep it off?” he asks with a smile.

“Yes, you got me. I really wanted that new skirt - the problem is of course that now that it’s daylight and my mind is clear, the skirt looks terrible. One should never stitch after 2AM. But it’s nice knowing that teachers care so much about the students’ wardrobes.”

“So you were not floating more than four thousand individual pearls at the same time, with a hold on each one of them?”

“The things people will make up, it’s unbelievable,” I say vehemently, shaking my head in disbelief. He smiles down at me.

“Unbelievable indeed.” But a knock on the door stops his inquiry.

“Come on in,” he answers, from his discouraged tone it seems he’s expecting Brody’s stalkers to walk in. But the door opens and only one suit steps in.

“We need a word with miss Langdale,” he says formally.

“Concerning what?”

“Her attendance records.”

“I know she’s missed a few lessons, but considering this is a voluntary class I thought that could be overlooked,” professor Holt tries to defend me. “You can ask…”

“Not her attendance for this class. She hasn’t been showing up for her history lessons.” Professor Holt stops whatever defense he had planned on using and instead looks down at me with a mine of disappointment, though not entirely surprised.

“It’s a waste of time,” I complain.

“So you stayed away?” he says as if he expected better of me.

“May I remind you, miss Langdale, that by law you are required to attend school.”

“May I remind you, Mr. Suit,” I counter, too sick of their games to sit down and quietly take it anymore. “That by law it is illegal to keep people against their will?” A few students laugh nervously, but most just look like challenging a suit was the last thing they’d wish to do. “I’m terribly sorry, but Professor Bins was so boring I could barely stay awake - and the way he drones on, it’s like he’s determined that learning history must take at least as long as it took to unfold.”

“Lizzy, you can’t just stay away, you need to know this stuff,” professor Holt scolds me. “And who is professor Bins?” he asks, lightly confused.

“The history teacher from Harry Potter,” I tell the table and smile to myself. “There are too many new names to learn here, he reminded me of a ghost, so I called him Bins.” Professor Holt just looks at me as if I’m a disobedient five-year-old.

“You will need to come with me, miss Langdale.”

“Why?” I demand. I have no desire to play their game.

“Because if you don’t I will have to get Joseph to make you.”

“That explains how you will make me, not why you desire to,” I inform him coldly. “I see no reason to attend those classes seeing as they are not teaching me anything. If you’re going to force me back to school the least you can do is teach me something.”

“Lizzy,” Professor Holt warns me.

“No, I demand proper learning if I’m going to attend. And by ‘proper’ I mean learning that I couldn’t obtain for myself easier, faster, or of better quality. Unless you can offer me something that fits at least one of those criteria I see no reason to spend my time on it.”

“And how do you suppose to measure that?” the Suit challenges me. “By your judgment alone? I’m terribly sorry to break it to you miss Langdale, but your authority is not accepted here, whatever your last name may be. We judge based on what people know.”

“As it should be,” I agree. “What do I need to know?” He takes a step forward, intensifying the duel like atmosphere.

“Educational degrees.”

“In the re-reform of 1876, it was decided that education should be free. In 1871 it was decided what the core elements of an education in abilities should be, of those the fifth one is understanding of the Laws applicable to people with abilities. If you tell me professor Bins can help me understand your laws I will agree to go, cause as it is now I know most of them, but I must say I understand very few. How, for example, can you expect parents to turn in Unassigneds with the way you treat them? And how can you expect them to raise an alarm for something they don’t understand? Not every child here has parents with abilities, how exactly are they supposed to contact you?” No answer.

“Fine, we’ll move on then, the third element is understanding of the five groupings. I know that ‘Minder’ covers anyone with the ability to hear, see or understand the things that are usually hidden about a person, that can include anything from feelings to thoughts, anything unseen and not physical. Natures can have gifts in anything from botanic to biology, it basically covers anything physical and alive. ‘Timer’ covers anything that has to do with speed, whether that is literally stopping time or simply running fast - but of course the ability to run fast also has a biological aspect to it, in fact so does every ability seeing as they come from a gene passed on through the bloodlines, emerging every once in a while, when the right mixture is found. At least that is what has been theorized, no one has been able to find or prove the existence of said gene.

“Transformers can turn one object into something else, but people who can transform themselves are also called Transformers, even though that is also mostly biological. Transporter is just as open to interpretation since it can be anyone who can move things in a way normal people can’t - for example a person who can control the four elements, who would normally be a Nature, could use air to move something, and would then suddenly be a Transporter instead. That is actually a real-life example that took place at this school, and the student in question was in level two before it was discovered, indicating strongly that even fully trained people can’t tell the groupings apart.”

“You’ve been to the library,” he observes.

“Quite informative,” I compliment them.

“Have you read up on the Five Families?” he asks instead.

“Oh, yeah. The things you say about the Langdales, I mean, wow. I especially like the theory that we’re all hiding out in caves or the one about Atlantis being real and belonging to us. I congratulate you on your imagination, it really is quite entertaining.”

“And the other four?” he challenges, but not as smugly as he first did.

“The Forastings, believed to be the original Minders, the Debays, believed to be the original Natures, the Cliffords, believed to be the original Transformers, and the Skylers, believed to be the original Transporters. The Langdales of course then being the original Timers.”

“Is that all you know about them?” I look at him for a second, holding his gaze. But then a smile spreads over my lips, and I can hold the poker face no longer.

“The book made it quite clear that nothing is known about them. I mean, sure, there are theories and speculations, sometimes a mention of historical sources or archeological findings, but none of those are accessible to students, so we basically just have to take your word for it, meaning we might believe certain things, but we’ll never know them. It did mention that it has been outlawed to take one of those names unless you can prove you are related to the original family - it is something like calling yourself a queen, some even consider it blasphemy.”

“I know the books don’t know anymore, I asked if you knew more.”

“Oh, you mean you want the old records from dad’s safe? The ones detailing the history of the Five Families all the way back to the first time the gene was discovered in a child? The ones he made us all memorize because we should be proud of our heritage, be proud of our strength, our gift, our position in life?” I pause and enjoy the tension in the air. The resentment of the Langdale name, the wish to be a Langdale, the self-righteousness and the thirst for more knowledge, more gossip.

“Sorry to disappoint,” I continue. “My position in life was as an underpaid analytic consultant with an idiot for a boss married to an even bigger idiot. We were never taught to think ourselves above others, we were taught to stick together and look out for our own, that is all.”

“And the pride in your voice?” he asks.

“Just my own personal charm. Actually, it’s more resentment than pride, I simply dislike being told what to do by people considering me a trophy or a good catch.”

“Inbreeding?” he challenges, ignoring my spiteful comments.

“You honestly believe that after all this time we are all still close relatives? You must think our numbers very small.”

“How many of you are there?” He must thing me a fool to ask such a question and expect an answer.

“Who knows? It’s not like we’re all Facebook friends. We’ll just say a small army if that lets you sleep better at night.”

“And the truth would be closer to…”

“Outnumbering you seven to one.” I meet his gaze and keep it until he looks down. “Or of course it could be that truly no one knows, and I’m just telling you what you are most afraid of, so you’ll get out of my face and let me be. Then again, maybe we have a family get-together every year. Or maybe you’ll never know. Maybe you’ll need a mind reader to find out. Maybe, just maybe, I’m simply edging you on to see if you’ll break the rule stating that mind reading used as an official tool is an invasion of privacy, something you all seem to value immensely in theory and fancy words, while in reality it is too impractical of course.”

“Impractical?”

“Searching student’s rooms whether they agree to it or not.”

“Permission can be given to such an endeavor if a high-ranking representative of the InT sees fit.”

“Yes, I kind of gathered that when the man with the warrant told me he needed to search my room because of an energy spike, but what about searches without a presented warrant.”

“A warrant must be shown before the search.”

“So a search with no presentation of documentation of permission from an appropriate representative is illegal?”

“Yes. May I inquire what this line of questioning is about?”

“Do you have a place a person can complain about unlawful searches?” Professor Holt lays a hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t make life harder for yourself,” he warns in a whisper.

“What if force was used to gain access to the place in question?”

“That would be punishable, yes. What is this about.”

“Nothing,” I say and shrug. “Just wondering.”

“If you have a crime to report, you should do so.”

“I believe that would require evidence - or will you take my word for it?”

“Unlikely.”

“I thought so. But it’s good to know my rights, thank you very much.” He holds my gaze for a second but decides it’s not worth the trouble I would give him.

“Sorry, but is there anywhere someone could find a complete list of laws upheld by you guys? I need something to replace Twitter, and laws seem equally boring.”

“I’m sure the librarian could help you.”

“It seems like you assume I hadn’t thought to ask her. She says no such collection can be found on the island. I tried to get one brought here, but neither the librarian nor the guy at the post office seemed to know where to order such a thing from.”

“I’ll have one sent to you,” he promises.

“Thank you, so much,” I smile.

“You will be excused from your history lessons on demand of quarterly tests proving that you are still keeping up.”

“Thank you,” I say again, and now all mockery has left my voice. This suit is actually an okay guy.