He tapped something on his Glass—a model that was older than I was—then tapped again, slightly harder, when that first tap didn’t produce the desired result. On the vid screen behind him, the four classifications were listed out. “Each of these classifications contains one or more power sets, but there is no hard and fast rule about what that number should be. So Elementalism includes Hydromancers, Pyromancers, Wind Dancers, Sparks, and Earthshakers, while Mentalism includes only Empaths, Switches, Sirens, and Telekinetics.”
I’d done the reading for the class, but had ended up with more questions than answers. In general, I tried to keep as low a profile as possible, but… I don’t know. Maybe my sessions with Alexa were starting to rub off on me. I found myself raising one hand. “How do we know they got it right, Amos?”
He shaded his eyes and looked up at the seats until he located my raised hand. “Mr. Banach, is that you? And awake? I thought I might have grown so accustomed to the sound of your snoring that I just wasn’t noticing it anymore.”
One half of the auditorium laughed. Not the Cape side. Outside of Shane and maybe Kayleigh, the whole first-year class remained ice-cold and distant. Some of them hated me, some of them feared me, but none of them were comfortable laughing at me.
“When you say got it right, what are you referring to, Mr. Banach?”
“Everything, basically.” More laughter, and I paused, trying to put the question into words. “Science is a guess that hasn’t been disproven yet, right? And these classes and sets were just their best guess on how to organize things?”
“I’m sure you would have done a much better job,” sniped Tessa. Poltergeist, as she now preferred to be called, most definitely belonged to the group that hated me.
“So far, so good, Mr. Banach,” said Amos, ignoring Poltergeist’s comment. “But I’m still not sure where the question is.”
“Well, it’s because of their guesses that we can label someone a Druid or a Stalwart, and that seems clear enough… but the system doesn’t seem to account for people who bridge multiple categories or don’t fit into any class at all. Like the Singer. Or Grannypocalypse. Or even you, for that matter. Hell, nobody can decide what class Dominion fits in, considering he has powers from so many of them!”
“It’s a fair point,” admitted Amos, “and one that makes me glad you chose to participate instead of sleep. For people with multiple power sets, we generally use their dominant power when classifying them. So Ms. Von Pell is a Weather Witch, despite her Wind Dancer abilities, and Mr. Mikkazi is more Jitterbug than Flyboy. However, as you noted, there are other individuals with a multitude of powers that all rank equally.”
“So what do they get classified as?” That was a blonde guy on the regular student side.
“Extremely fortunate, Mr. Inglewood,” answered Amos with a grin. “To be quite honest, beyond initial training methodologies, I’m not sure classification matters as much as we like to think it does.”
It was easy for him to say that. As far as I could tell, everyone cared a hell of a lot about my classification.
“But what would you be considered, Professor?” the same blonde asked.
“Yeah, or the Singer? Or Tezcatlipoca, for that matter?”
Amos frowned, his wrinkles deepening. “I’ll remind you all that the Voidsinger’s existence has yet to be proven, despite the many tales circulating about him. As for myself, I would prefer not to be lumped into the same category as someone like Grannypocalypse or that murderous creature south of our border. However, it is true that the current system does not account for every power we’re aware of, let alone all the powers that might exist around the globe. Does that mean the scientists got it wrong?”
He waited a moment for a reply.
“No,” decided Winter.
“And why is that, Ms. Von Pell?”
“Because science isn’t wrong.”
“Oh, how I wish that were true! I could tell you stories about orange juice…” Amos shook his head. “But in a way, you’re also correct. Science isn’t static. The Genus was correct, given what information was available at the time, and for the most part, it remains correct even now. If a sufficient number of quasi-immortals show up one day, then maybe a new class will be added to the Genus. Until then, those few of us who don’t fit are simply left unclassified. I like to think of myself as a Full-Five Amos, really.”
“But what about Necromancers?” That was Poltergeist again, and I felt myself flush, even as Shane shifted uneasily next to me. I wasn’t sure which of the regular students knew what I was, if any. I was kind of hoping none of them did. It would make getting dates a hell of a lot easier. God knew my chances with the first-year women were slim-to-none.
Not that I was giving up on Orca just yet.
Amos cleared his throat. “As rare as they are, their numbers are still sufficient to suggest they’re not simply one-offs like myself. There is a proposal to add a new power class to the Genus.” He carefully avoided glancing my way. “Both Crows and Summoners would be classified as Aberrants.”
Of course we would.
“Once again,” Amos continued with a grin, “we’ve somehow found ourselves on a tangent. That’s the fun of history, I guess! It’s as good a place as any to end my lecture for the day.”
A few students exchanged puzzled looks. We had almost half an hour left
