2.23.2

A Maxwell Welcome

Though the men sat in the forward seats to listen in, Astrid crawled beneath the side-passage window and peeked her head for a better glimpse.

A hundred meters off, the forward team passed under a wide opening into the school’s open foyer. They kept their armaments stashed, and assumed a casual demeanor, with Ramsey at the front.

Even before they engaged with the doormen that framed the entrance, Astrid tensed.

“Is this what it was like when you sent me and Rue on Penny Station?” she asked of her companions.

“Worse. We didn’t know we’d find anything, then. It could have been nothing. This time, we know exactly who they’re dealing with,” Anders told her. “The kids might not be here. But we know the Opposition is.”

The other team traveled well beyond earshot, save for the comms they kept open to the shuttle, and the ship beyond via a buoy at the Hill.

Finally, Ramsey’s voice rang through when he addressed the men at guard. Faces Astrid couldn’t make out from her position.

“I’m looking for my sister,” he said. Astrid had to give him credit, Ramsey colored his voice with concern with seemingly little effort.

She couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation as easily. It came clearer when the one speaking drew closer to the team, and their microphones.

“…This is a closed campus,” the voice replied.

“I heard there was an issue. Some kind of incident?” Ramsey pressed. “I’ve been on tour. This is the soonest I could get away. Please, I’m just trying to find my family.”

A pause came in which no one spoke. Through the slim glimpse Astrid stole just above the horizon of the window, she watched the doormen appraise the group.

“What are they doing?” Anders asked.

“Thinking,” Astrid guessed. “Maybe seeing an opportunity to recruit. Just like Captain.”

Finally, one of the strangers spoke.

“Come in, take a look. We’re still assessing the damage and collecting names.”

“Didn’t ask for weapons. Means they’re buying the story,” Romo suggested.

“Or too accustomed to people walking around armed,” Anders considered.

Astrid clung to the window until all five bodies disappeared within the set of broad double doors.

Then she thudded onto the floor of the shuttle to sit with a huff.

“It certainly looks like you guys have been through something.” Dell spoke into the comm from within.

Astrid closed her eyelids and tried to imagine the interior. With every sound of footsteps or the sliding of doors, she tried to put herself there with them.

“We suffered damage when the Channeler base nearby went awry. Some of the students took the opportunity to run home. Some didn’t make it, I’m afraid.”

Astrid focused on breathing while she followed them in conversation only.

“What happened, exactly?” Ramsey questioned.

“Some kind of conflict between the Channelers and their Guardians resulted in a fight that reached even our halls.” Astrid noted the hosts neglected to mention the scientists’ part in the uprising. “There was a powerful energy burst. And there wasn’t much left of those closest. Some suffered hearing loss, nausea, small ruptures.

“Those still here are trusting us to keep them safe. We’ve put most things on hold while we secure our people and offer therapy for those that lost schoolmates.”

Romo huffed, disinterested. “I guess we couldn’t really expect an admission of guilt.”

Footsteps continued. The shuffling of gear.

“How would I go about seeing my sister?”

“I’ll need to take you the head of the Academy. The Trustee Board has posted a principal here. He’s the only one that keeps a file on where everyone is right now.”

“What about the Channelers?” Dell asked. “Any issues, since?”

“The nearby Sanctuary is desolate, now. We hear rumors of unrest, but not from here. Other Sanctuaries, likely experiencing similar malcontent.”

Astrid leaned back on her hands and resisted the urge to audibly display her disgust.

“Wait, those ones-” Tenya interrupted the line. “They’re a little young, aren’t they?”

Specialist and lieutenant-commander locked eyes when Astrid’s heart leapt into her throat. But Anders already extended his palm outward in a “steady” motion.

“We get some kids from a young age. Especially if they test exceptionally, or if their parents are both in the Service. A couple are younger siblings of older students. Some are under mentorship, groomed in.”

“Do you usually have so many of that age group? There’s gotta be at least fifty.”

Astrid shifted into a crouching position. Oh, how she itched to burst out of the vehicle. Now, while the guards were preoccupied.

At the helm, Romo made note of the numbers. Anders took to his feet to keep a more direct watch over his restless Channeler.

“No. But a lot has changed lately…” The stranger’s voice drifted. “Like I said, you’ll have to talk to Principal Paulsen.”

Again, Romo scribbled a quick notation.

A change in the pattern of footsteps indicated arrival to their destination, wherever it may be. Astrid cupped her hand around her ear, as though even the slightest increase of clarity could deliver more information than already given.

Doors thudded open, and the strange men introduced the forward team to, presumably, the principal. A man who introduced himself as, “John Paulsen. A family name.”

“Thank you for taking a meeting, Mister Paulsen,” Ramsey led. “I was most distressed to hear there was some kind of accident. Didn’t seem like much information had gotten out on the details, however. I had to see for myself.”

The sound of chair legs over stone made Astrid imagine how surely the principal gestured for his guests to sit. She heard only one chair move, however, not three. Which she took to mean Tenya and Dell maintained their pretense of beings Ramsey’s guard.

After the doors closed, Astrid could no longer hear the first strangers speak. Perhaps, she thought, they left the visitors to their business.

“We have no interest in creating a panic,” Paulsen explained away. “I’m certain that we may never know what happened in Argos that day. It’d be irresponsible to speculate, and further spread assumptions. No matter how well founded they may be.”

Astrid’s nerves wriggled. She didn’t like this one already. His voice dripped with the cagey swoon of a carefully crafted narrative.

“Don’t you want protections? Maybe compensation?” Dell interjected.

The principal in question paused. “From and for what? From a threat that is no longer there? Compensation for the dead? Does such a thing truly exist? If there is little to be done about what happened, I assure you, we are already doing it.”

A non-answer and masked confession all in one, Astrid thought. He certainly was good.

“About your sister,” Paulsen then redirected. “What’s her name?”

“Ava Owens,” Ramsey recited.

A shuffling of papers. The clicking of a keyboard.

“Ah, yes.” Paulsen announced. “I’m afraid she went missing with a company of teenagers that ‘no longer felt safe’ so close to the Channeler facility. We have it on good authority they made it to The Hill, however. She’s alive, by all accounts, but we have no record of where she is now.”

“I see…” Ramsey answered slowly while the team took in the obvious lie.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t be more help,” Paulsen offered.

Again, Dell pushed in his subtle, unassuming way. “I’m surprised you didn’t shut down completely.”

“This school is still a serviceable facility. And a great opportunity. I trust you realize we are named after the physicist James Clerk Maxwell? A forward thinker on electromagnetic physics. There is no better way to serve his legacy than here. Finding out what is going wrong with the Channelers.”

“Going wrong?” Tenya asked this time.

Outside, Astrid observed the two guards reappear at their posts by the entrance.

Paulsen gave a drawn-out sigh that, to the Channeler, sounded overly emphasized. She could almost feel how the man hoped they’d ask.

“Half the Trustee Board has dropped Maxwell Academy altogether,” the man claimed. “And finding replacements in the midst of growing uncertainty has been difficult.

“But we have enjoyed a renaissance of types, between the gap in oversight. And forgive me, but after what I’ve seen, I am willing to take advantage.”

“Is that legal?” Dell probed.

The team within the shuttle shared a nervous glance, worried Dell pressed too far.

But the man, Paulsen, seemed to take it in stride. As though he expected such a query.

“We’re reaching a new era with the rise of these energy-benders. We’re about to cross into an age never seen before. There are no laws for what we’re dealing with.

“We hope to forge some, here. Set an example of how to face this risk and its threats. And what it means for our own students.

“The Guardians of Argos, I hear, were particularly stringent. And yet, the Channelers revolted. If it can happen there, it can happen anywhere. And what if we had been in the city? Or on Earth, with tens of thousands of innocent bystanders?”

“You see them as a threat,” Tenya affirmed, as though she supported the notion, rather than find it abhorrent.

“I see that we lost people. Not because the Channelers are evil, but that they are a danger, pure and simple. If science teaches us anything it’s that we should expect a predictable scenario to reoccur. To assume this was an isolated event, some fluke? No, that would be ignorant.

“What better place to develop a response procedure than here? Ground zero? Even if it’s just researching ways to stem the problem before it grows larger.”

“Procedure? Are you talking communal control? Defense or…?” Ramsey tentatively ventured.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss that with the public just now. If you’re interested in joining the Trustee Board, I can connect you with a name. For now, suffice it to say we are taking responsibility for the future.”