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Harker, year 0, Selection Process, Claudia
🕑 Added 2025-09-28 13:00:06 +0000 UTCThe knock was gentle. “Claudia?” her mother called softly from the other side of the bedroom door. “Honey? Dinner’s ready.”
“I’m not hungry,” she replied from the corner of the dark room, knees to herself, arms wrapped around them.
She was famished, but she wouldn’t endanger her family by leaving it while they were about. She’d already fried the fuse box, forcing them to rough it out. It had been pure luck her father still had the old camping equipment in the basement. It had meant her parents and little brother hadn’t had to suffer too much because of her.
The handle turned.
“Stay out!” A flash of light accompanied the snap of the electrical bolt hitting something conductive. She had only the afterimage to know what had nearly happened. The bolt had been heading for the handle; it always went where her emotions were aimed at. If she’d been closer, or if nothing grounded had stood between her and the door, she’d have hurt her mother, possibly killed her too. Fortunately, the floor lamp had been a couple of inches closer, and the bolt had hit that, sparking the wire and plug in the process.
Unfortunately, the one place she couldn’t aim her lightning, no matter how angry she got, was at herself. It would solve everything if she could simply zap herself into ashes.
“Honey,” her mother said, “you have to eat something. I’ll bring you a plate. Leave it by the door.”
“I’ll go down after everyone’s asleep.” She breathed to calm herself and added, “Like I did last night.”
“Are you sure?” The pain in her mother’s voice was such Claudia nearly rushed to comfort her. She wanted to tell her everything would be okay. That she was okay.
Only, she wasn’t.
Another flash of light, another crackle, and the afterimage of the bolt hitting the plug on the left side of the door. Her cursed electricity reacted to every strong emotion; even her wanting to make her mother feel better. This would be so much easier if only negative emotions triggered it, like what most novels had taught her to believe. That, so long as she kept her temper under control, she could be with her family and friends.
And the park wouldn’t have happened.
She shuddered at the memory, and lightning crackled over her body, having nowhere to go, and being too diffused to jump to the closest plug. She didn’t know how many people, how many friends she’d killed, before falling unconscious, but she remembered the lightning exploding over the lake, the screams from those in the water with her. Moments before, they they had been joyfully celebrating her eighteenth birthday with her.
Her parents had tried to tell her about it, for some reason, but she’d screamed at them each time. But she hadn’t been able to silence the accusations from the parents showing up at their house. She hadn’t made out the words, but the yells had carried the tone. They had to have been demanding that Claudia pay. She didn’t know why her parents hadn’t handed her over to them. Other than, maybe, they wanted to protect those families from the further damage she could cause.
“Alright, Honey.” Her mother sounded disappointed. “We’re having your favorite, spinach pizza.”
She rested her head against the wall, struggling between being touched and pissed at them. She was the only one who liked spinach pizza. She was the only vegetarian in the house. For them to suffer through it, just so she’d leave her room was either considerate or manipulative.
Regardless of their motivations, she wouldn’t put them in danger. She would never endanger anyone again. “I’ll take it from the oven.” She sighed. Her mother deserved more. “Thanks, Mom.”
Like the previous night, and the one before, she’d let them think she was eating, taking a portion from what they’d left. They had to think she was eating; otherwise, they’d call some ‘expert’ to force her to be with her family, not caring about the danger that put everyone in.
Like before, she’d dump the content out her window, but this time she wouldn’t give in to her hunger and eat a little before that. Maybe she couldn’t use her power to keep everyone safe, but it didn’t mean she didn’t have other ways to accomplish it.
There were faster ways to do it, but the idea of something sharp against her skin caused her to shudder. Even getting her hair cut was stressful, and those scissors didn’t get close to touching her skin.
Starving herself was the better way to do this.
*
She startled awake with the memory of a knock and stared in horror at the turning handle. “Stay out!” Her words were punctuated by the percussion of an electrical bolt hitting the floor lamp.
The handle stopped moving.
“Claudia.” Her father’s tone was stern. “I’m coming in.”
“No!” Another snap of electricity, and the lamp wobbled. The handle returned to its original position. She thought there was a conversation on the other side, but the ringing made it difficult to be sure.
“Claudia.” Her father again. “There’s someone here to talk with you.”
“I don’t want to talk!” Another bolt of lightning. The handle turned, in spite of her protest, and another bolt hit the outlet.
The door kept opening, and she couldn’t keep her fear that she’d hurt her father from manifesting more bolts. All she could do was will them to the lamp and outlets and pray they’d obey.
Instead of her father’s thin outline in the hall’s late morning light, the form was large and bulky.
Her mind screamed monster as the door revealed the full silhouette.
She screamed, and the bolt ignored the pull of the lamp or the outlets to hit the monsters in the chest. It staggered, then stepped in fully. Now in her room. And not the in-between of the hallway’s bright light and her room’s dim one, its only window covered by a sheet, the outline became a person wearing a thick insulated suit.
She stared, her disbelief turning into dismay she could have thought they were a creature. She chuckled, then laughed at the utter ridiculousness of the getup, and in relief that she hadn’t killed them.
The door clicked shut, and all mirth left her. Whoever they were had isolated themselves with her. When she lost control, they’d have nowhere to flee.
“At least this fucking thing works,” The woman in the suit said. Claudia was certain of that, in spite of how the suit muffled the voice, and her burning ears at the swear. “It would have been insulting to fucking Hell if, on top of looking stupid, this thing didn’t do what I made it to do.” She had tou turn her torso to look around. “You mind if I sit?” She grabbed the desk chair. “This thing’s fucking heavy.”
“Yes,” Claudia stated, but the woman sat. The chair didn’t protest the apparent bulk.
The woman let out a sigh of relief. “That’s better. Hello Claudia. I’m Georgina. Georgina Armstrong. Your parents tell me you haven’t eaten in a few days.”
She stared in disbelief.
“Your brother found the food in the flowerbed under your window.”
She should have considered that, and the fact Malcolm couldn’t keep his mouth shut. She should have used the toilet, but she’d been worried about clogging it.
“What do you want?” she asked bitterly.
“I’d like to know why you feel you need to starve yourself.”
“You won’t understand,” she snapped.
“We won’t know unless you try, will we?”
Claudia rested her forehead against her knees. “It’s the only way to keep everyone safe.”
“Why do you feel you have to keep everyone safe?”
She looked at the suit, staring at the tone. Not uncaring, but detached, like how the doctor who’d tended to her broken arm, from playing football at eleven, had dispassionately enumerated the breaks as she looked at the x-rays.
The woman was still, or maybe the suit was bulky enough Claudia couldn’t see small motion, like shaking her head, or rolling her eyes.
“Do you have any idea how many people I’ve already killed?” she demanded.
“I’m not aware you’ve killed anyone, Claudia.”
She snorted. “Go talk to the parents of those who were in the lake with me.” He refused to think of them as her friends. Killing strangers was bad enough, but if she’d let herself think about the friends she’d…. She’d break, and they’d take her to a hospital where she wouldn’t be able to do what she had to for their safety.
“No one died in the lake,” the woman said in her calm, almost cautious tone. “You haven’t killed any of your friends, Claudia. The worst is minor electrical burns. The electricity you unleashed dispersed through the water. Once you fell unconscious, the parents and lifeguards jumped in and pulled everyone out. They’re shaken. One boy, Jeremy, is angry, and he made sure I told you that you had no right keeping you could do that from him.” Claudia thought the woman tilted her head. “Is he your boyfriend?”
She shook her head, relief that everyone was okay being overshadowed by what it meant.
“They’re fine. They’re worried about you.”
“They should be scared. I could have killed them. I nearly killed you!” She didn’t want comfort. She was happy her friends were okay, but she was still a danger.
She squirmed under the woman’s unseen stare.
“You’re not dangerous, Claudia.”
She snorted. Maybe some of the electricity had gotten into the suit and scrambled the woman’s brain. There had been enough power in it; she’d staggered.
“What you are, Claudia, is a young woman who found out has a power in the worst way possible. You had an extreme, if understandable, reaction to that discovery.”
“You’re a shrink,” she said dejectedly. Of course, her parents would bring in a shrink once they realized she hadn’t eaten.
“Actually, I’m a researcher. But I do have a background in psychology, among other things. In the wake of Jacksonville, It’s become apparent that parahuman mental health has been ignored. I’m planning on remedying that. I think people forget that human is part of the term parahuman. The government’s reaction, and the ensuing riots, has demonstrated that, if nothing else.”
“What does that have to do with me?” Claudia asked.
“I think that we can help each other, Claudia.”
“I’m not some test subject,” she snapped, and lightning hit the outlet closest to the suit.
“No, you aren’t. But you are a young woman in need of help. Help with your power, as well as the trauma you underwent.” The woman paused, and Claudia thought she felt her eyes piercing her. “Something’s about to happen. It’s nothing big, in the grand scheme of things,” she added dismissively, “but it gives us both an opportunity we’d be foolish to ignore.”
“Are you insane? There’s going to be people there, right?”
The woman nodded.
“I’m going to be a danger to all of them. I can’t control this!”
The lightning hit the outlet by the suit, and it turned to look at the scorched wall, then turned to look at the room. “Your bedroom contradicts you, Claudia. You have some control. It isn’t great, but it’s there. And that tells us you can improve it.”
“And you’re going to do that?” she asked mockingly.
“No. I can help you come to terms with what happened, but I don’t have the expertise needed to teach you control. That opportunity I mentioned will take care of that aspect. They’ll have people who can handle that.”
“Like who?” she asked suspiciously.
“I can’t give you names at this point, but you won’t be the only one for whom control is an issue there.”
Claudia looked around her room. The burned outlets and items plugged into them. Anywhere would be better than here, where she was a threat to her family.
She sighed. “I guess it’s better than starving myself.”
The woman laughed. “Not the enthusiasm I was looking for, but I’ll take it.”
*
George dismissed the screen over his desk as the door burst open and slammed against the wall.
“I’m sorry, Mister Armstrong,” his secretary proclaimed from behind the woman marching into his office. “I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”
“It’s alright, Elizabeth,” he replied, as his sister rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing you could have done.” Not even the president of the country could have kept her from barging in like she owned the place, although that was an altercation George would enjoy watching. With a few taps, the top of his desk turned into wood grain. He wouldn’t get any work done until he’d dealt with this.
The door closed, leaving them alone. His twin stopped before his desk and crossed her arms over her chest. She’d gained muscle mass since the last time she’d barged in a few years before, he thought. She’d also cut her brown hair. That was the clearest indication he wasn’t her first meeting since stepping out of her lab. She never bothered with her appearance when showing up to make demands.
They shared that trait. They forgot life existed outside of their research. Forgot their bodies needed to be cared for more than ensuring they received the correct caloric intake and exercise. Unlike her, he’d set up programs to ensure those needs were seen to, and when he stopped listening to them, he’d ensure he had friends who would pull him out.
Those had been the hardest to stick with. People could be so complicated at times. But, in the long run, they had turned out to be a good investment.
She fixed him with her green eyes, another trait they shared, and he stifled the sigh at the determination in them. This wouldn’t be quick, and if he wasn’t careful, she’d get her way, yet again.
Today was the day he finally won an argument with her. “What can I do for you, Sis?” He made his tone as pleasant as he could. He’d taken lessons, years ago, in how to behave around people, but she made it so very difficult.
Her smile did not comfort him in the least. “Oh, no. Not this time. This time, I’m the one who can do something for you, Bro.”
He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This should be fun,” he said bitterly.
“Actually, it will.” She sounded so pleased with herself, George felt his insides twist. “I’m in.”
“In what?” He did his best to mask his confusion as he worked out what she could be referring to. He hated how she acted like their power was mind-reading instead of beyond genius intellect.
“That little project you and your friends are just about ready to start up. I’m in.”
He stared at her.
She shouldn’t know. She couldn’t know. There was no way. He’d built the security around the project specifically to keep her out. He figured that managing that meant no one else could infiltrate it. The only comfort in realizing he’d failed was that her getting through his security didn’t mean anyone else could.
He closed his mouth on his admission of defeat and reminded himself who stood before him. She might not know anything. This could be pure conjecture on her part and her attempt at getting him to spill. It was how she’d gotten him to tell her he was Valiant. Acting like she already knew everything, when she was acting on suspicions.
“Damn it, Sis. Can you, just for once, say what you’re after, instead of playing games? ‘Little project?’ with ‘my friends?’ I run a billion-dollar company. Do you have any idea how many projects I have going right now? And unlike you, I recognize the value in fraternizing with the people around me. It does wonders for morale and productivity. You should try it with your assistants.”
Her dismissive wave at that last statement didn’t hide the conflict in her eyes. He’d been right. This had been nothing more than a phishing—
“That little school of yours, for teaching Heroes. Or do you want me to state it’s that archeologist’s school, since you got him to foot most of the bill.” She smiled. “Pretty clever, that friendship with him, just so you could pass along things you know can’t work.”
“That’s not.” He narrowed his eyes. “If you’re so certain it’s going to fail, why do you want to be involved? You don’t do failures, Georgina. You cut your losses before the project even exists and leave your assistants to pick up the rubble.”
“Just because your experiment’s doomed to fail doesn’t mean nothing worthwhile can come of it.”
“Fine, then why would I even think of letting you near this and letting you—”
“I have six official doctorates. One of which is in psychology. Another relevant one here is in electrical engineering.” She continued while he tried to work out how that was relevant. He’d designed the electrical network himself. “To the best of my extensive knowledge, I’m the only person taking the psychology of parahumans seriously. Do you expect me to believe a school filled with teens with powers isn’t going to need counseling on a daily basis? Bro. I know I’m the smartest person in this room, but I didn’t think you were that stupid.”
He glared. Of course, he wasn’t that stupid. He had an entire division looking into who could handle counseling. Who, other than his sister, could. Her name hadn’t come up, for him to quickly erase, because she didn’t have an office or even officially worked as a psychologist. Unlike him, she didn’t bother hiding her research behind a respectable business.
He pinched the bridge of his nose again. “Fine.” Since she knew, she’d find a way to get in. Arguing only meant he wouldn’t know how she managed it. And this gave him some control over the damage she could do. “And what is this help you’re oh so generously offering going to cost? Other than you filling the entire department without consulting anyone?” Nothing his sister did came without a price. A lesson everyone in their family had learned the hard way. Georgine always extracted a price.
“Nothing much, Bro.”
He glared. He’d decide how close to ‘nothing’ it actually was.
“One spot in that hero school of your to be filled by a person of my choice.”
He was up. “No! Absolutely not. I am not letting you use the project as your personal experimental grounds. The Harker Academy is too important to the future of every parahuman in the country, if not the world, to allow you to ruin it.”
His sister smiled, and George felt something he hadn’t since first donning Valiant.
Terror.
“That’s exactly why you need me, George. You don’t get people. Your thing’s this.” She motioned to his office, meaning all the unseen technology that made it up. “My thing includes people. I’ve studied them. I know what makes them tick.”
And yet, he didn’t say. He was the one with friends. His sister might understand people more than he did, but it didn’t mean she saw them as people. He didn’t always. He had his failing. But he always tried.
“Go on,” he prompted, since she’d make him wait until the sun extinguished itself otherwise.
“Without me, your project is doomed. You let me help, it’s got a chance. A minuscule one, but it’s no longer zero. I’m in because I want to help one person, and your project is the best way to make that happen. The price I’m paying is doing what I can to make sure it doesn’t fail. Make sure this little petri dish of power and hormones actually gives you people with the mental stability to ensure you don’t cause another Gravitas to come into being.”
“You.” He swallowed and had to force the words past his utter disbelief. “You actually want to help me, help someone?”
She lost her smile and nodded.
His blood turned cold. “God help us all.”
