Chapter 112 - Hard Work

The day began not so great and got worse from there. First, breakfast sucked. Erica had gone into cost saving mode and brought back cereal, milk, and bananas. The cereal: generic versions of corn flakes and cheerios. The milk: water skim and soymilk for Cassandane. The bananas: bulk ones that were already over-ripe. The bowls were tiny disposable ones that required everyone to queue up repeatedly for refills. The edges of the cheap plastic spoon cut her on the first bite so that she had to harden her mouth with the teleotic talent while she ate. At least there was coffee. Cheap, bad coffee from a large cardboard cube, but it was coffee.

While breakfast finished up, Mike ordered Greg Smith to give a training session on guard duty. Greg must have known it was coming because he droned on for ten minutes about proper procedures when on watch. It went beyond the 'stop anyone who tries to enter and wake up a superior' guidance they had received a few day earlier. For example: you could only leave your station for emergencies. Bathroom breaks should occur during shift change, not during your watch. Intruders were to be detained if possible and their rules of engagement specified they were authorized to use lethal force if necessary to maintain the security of their facilities.

After that presentation, a serious mood hung about the place. Apparently, no one had realized they were at a 'kill intruders' level. With everyone somber, Cassandane had Mike run all the soldiers through physical fitness training while she pulled Sam aside for a private lesson. For over an hour, Cassandane walked Sam through basic exercises used to teach the three basic talents while Mike's voice blared from the hall outside where the others were put through what sounded like torture. The idea behind the instruction was to prepare Sam for her role as instructor.

Exercises for developing the kinetic talent were divided into three basic areas. The first involved developing fine control skills. The second, increasing the amount of animas that could be forced through a corona. And the third stressed reaction speed. For each type, there existed multiple drills that could be altered to target various skill levels. Some could be turned into game-like competitions. Others were a grinding repetition.

Exercises for developing the teleotic talent were divided into two categories based on two specific use cases for their curriculum: bodily hardening and wound repair. Both topics involved considerably more than Sam had ever realized. Hardening 101 involved strengthening the chemical bonds between the lipid walls of cells and the connective fibers between cells -- at first, only skin would be targeted to simplify the task, but eventually all tissues had to be included. It was a challenge to do that even on an isolated portion of the body. Then you had to increase the strength of tendons, ligaments, and bones. If you managed that, you moved on to maintaining the integrity of the brain synapses. After a moment of consideration, Cassandane decided that Sam should neither teach nor train brain hardening without direct supervision. The topic of wound repair seemed rather mundane in comparison. They covered slash wounds, puncture wounds, bone fractures, burns, and internal bleeds in a whirlwind of instruction.

Exercises for developing the noetic talent were sub-divided into two separate subjects. First, mindvasting, which consisted mostly of memorization and performing challenging mental tasks. Second, memecasting to influence targets. At that point, Sam discovered the possibility of using an undifferentiated meme broadcast to scramble the mind of an opponent -- essentially introducing static into the brain until it interrupted normal thought processes. She realized she had been the target of such an attack during her escape from the Angelship. It also was not lost on her that she could have had an easier time getting to Jess if she had known of that particular trick earlier.

Once they had gone through a rapid overview of everything to be taught, Cassandane instructed Sam to spend all of her free time practicing the talents. "I expect you to remain ahead of your students in terms of skill." Easier said than done considering the fact that some of her current students had been using the talents for longer than her. Cassandane promised to provide further lessons in the synergies as their schedules permitted, but indicated Mike's training would be the immediate priority as his survival in battle would depend upon his combat skills.

Then, just as she thought the worst of her day behind her, they went to the bank. Jimmy, Mike, Kendra, and Sam had to sign paperwork to get access to the joint bank account that would be holding their funds until Jimmy could get their organization officially registered as an entity. Once that had been completed, they returned to the convention center to discover Cassandane in conversation with another interloper, this one from the Secret Service. Sam was set to training the soldiers in the group instruction room while Mike, Jimmy, and Kendra stayed behind with Cassandane.

No one enjoyed her class that day. After the unstructured, self-directed study hall atmosphere from the previous day, the drills she had them doing seemed simple and monotonous. Greg radiated simmering resentment every time she glanced in his direction, no doubt still upset that she had reported his indiscretions while on watch duty. Jess distracted her two cops with flirting, which did not help at all. Apparently, suffering from a bout of self-consciousness, her voice dropped in volume until no one could make out what she was saying, so she had to walk around to explain to individuals one or two at a time what they were supposed to be doing.

The only thing that held her back from running out of the room was the certainty that it would prove Mike right about her. That she was a stupid girl who didn't belong in the world of serious adults. That she couldn't handle the job. As much as she didn't want the role that had been thrust upon her, she couldn't bear the thought of failing yet again.

Lunch, when it came, was peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Every eye turned towards Spencer, who immediately turned on Mike as the one who had ordered her to be cheap. The laconic caveman of a centurion had immediately quipped something about how she should have saved money on plates instead, which got everyone laughing. A single comment from Mike and the entire crew was happy again. Super annoying.

She dutifully waited until everyone else had gone before making a sandwich for herself. Then before she could vent to Jess, her friend called over Mike and began to flirt something furious. Sam glared at her sandwich and hoped the day would get better.