Chapter 51 (1/2)

There are both costs and benefits of having a teacher who spends most of their time actively pursuing their chosen subject. The costs are simple and obvious: they aren't always equipped to teach. Professor Tawny was not particularly talented in a classroom setting. His soft voice, his mild-mannered demeanor, his low energy, none of these things helped keep a student's attention. His lectures, while technically informative, had as much flavor as an MRE. They lacked the ability to capture one's interest.

In a classroom setting.

Fortunately, search and rescue is not a course that can be optimally taught indoors. At some point, a student must venture out into the world, and get in some good, old-fashioned, hands-on experience. And thus, the benefits of having an active professional teaching a course: connections.

”Tomorrow, we'll be going to the Red Creek Ranch, about thirty miles northwest of the city,” Tawny explained to the class. ”Gregoir is handing out pamphlets containing the location details, and your syllabus includes the address as well.”

Dan quietly examined what he was certain was a tourism advert as Gregoir whistled merrily past him.

”I've arranged for a van to be here tomorrow morning, for those of you lacking transportation,” the dog-eared officer continued. ”Take it or leave it; so long as you arrive on time, I couldn't care less how you arrive.”

Fred raised his hand, getting a nod from Tawny.

”What will we be doing there, sir?” the ginger asked. Despite Tawny's request for informality, the youngest student had never failed to include a 'Sir' or an 'Officer' at the end of every sentence. The lawman eventually stopped correcting him. He clearly recognized a lost cause when he saw one.

Tawny scratched the side of his head, just beneath his ears. ”I, and several of my associates, will run you through a few drills, followed by a simulated grid search of the habitat. It's a reasonably popular location for wilderness hikes, and people get lost on occasion.”

Fred's eyebrows shot upward. ”More private investigators?” His voice was loud, incredulous. Also, accidental, if his reddening face was any indication.

Fortunately, Tawny seemed to take no offense at the less than subtle shade thrown at his former profession. He smiled blandly. ”Not as such, Mr. Sawyer. Two additional officers will meet us there, both as qualified as I. In addition, there will be three certified volunteers, who will accompany you throughout the ranch, and an upgrade analyst.”

The last item caught Dan off guard. ”Upgrade analyst?” he asked, wincing as he realized that his hand was lowered.

”Yes,” Tawny nodded, apparently in a forgiving mood. ”She'll be taking a look at each of your upgrades, and advising you on how they can best be used for search and rescue. Specifically, in a forest environment. She might give you more than that, but don't expect it. She charges quite a bit, and this was a favor for me.”

Dan, actually raising his hand this time, remarked, ”I've never heard of a profession like that.”

”They are not common,” Tawny confirmed with a shrug. ”Dead useful, though.” He took a moment to consider it. ”I believe they are most commonly used when someone is changing professions, but said person has an extremely specialized upgrade. An upgrade analyst steps in, figures out how the specialized upgrade can be adapted for a different job, and voila! These are people who regularly think outside the box, so to speak, so pay close attention to whatever she says.”

”Of course,” Dan said, an affirmation echoed by his fellow students.

”Right.” A nod. ”Any other questions?”

The dog-eared officer glanced around the room before nodding once more. ”Okay then. Van departs here at 8:30 in the morning. Don't be late. If you aren't here, I'm assuming that you've found alternate transportation. Class dismissed.”

There was no grand screeching of chairs at this announcement, just a light shuffling. Laptops and notebooks were put away at moderate speed, and Tawny was the first person out the door. Fred followed soon after, having brought and used the very minimum amount of school supplies. He walked out the door with a cheerful, ”Catch you later!” and a jaunty wave.

Dan's packing did not take long. He simply had to shut his laptop, and loop an arm through his satchel. His power made transportation rather trivial, and he was usually the first to disappear from the room.

Not today. For the first time in... ever, Dan waited. Freya put away her laptop, her spare notebook, neatly organized her pens inside a dark blue case, and stacked everything evenly within her backpack. She stood up and made for the door. Gregoir was still in the room, a fact that physically pained Dan, but it was now or never.

”Freya,” he called, immediately realizing his mistake. She spun to face him, disapproval blazing in her eyes.

”Miss Valentine,” Dan amended carefully. Her visage softened not at all, but he continued bravely onward. ”How is Mister Graham?”

He was slightly ashamed that it had taken two weeks to ask the question. In his defense, he had been doing his best to avoid Gregoir without being obvious about it. This had mostly involved leaving the class room as quickly as possible whenever there was an opportunity. The big man, in turn, had persevered in his efforts to corner Dan, bearing his escapes with relentless good cheer.

Dan wasn't even sure why he was avoiding Gregoir, other than the fact that he really did not want to have a conversation about their mutual adventure. Dan had zero interest in reliving that day; he had only just stopped feeling guilty about the whole mess, and Gregoir was sure to bring it up.

Even so, it wasn't right for Dan to ignore the actual victim of kidnapping (Gregoir didn't count). He had said all of maybe ten words to Freya in the past two weeks. She wasn't rude, nor cold, so much as distant. She had clammed up, hard, after her initial argument with Fred, and only offered opinions when directly called upon. Dan lacked the social kung-fu necessary to fight past her defenses, so he had settled for a battering ram.

It worked. For the briefest of moments, Freya's indifferent mask broke. Something fragile and sad flitted across her face, before the wall went back up. She inhaled softly, spoke quietly.

”He is well.”

Dan frowned. He had hoped for more than that. ”He's holding up okay?”

”Of course,” Freya replied politely. ”Why wouldn't he be?”

”...Because he got kidnapped?” His response was slow, dripping in sarcasm, as if speaking to a particularly dim child. The kind of response he'd give Abby when they argued with each other. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. His jaw clicked shut, and visibly cringed at himself.

Freya was equally unimpressed. Her expression closed off and grew haughty. ”He signed the same forms as you. He understood the risks.”

Ah well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

”Nobody takes those seriously, though,” Dan pointed out. ”It's just, like, a disclaimer.”

The younger woman's eyes flashed with anger. ”We took them seriously!” she snarled. ”Of course we took them seriously! I don't know what your mentors taught you, that allows you stand there and spout such disrespectful tripe, but mine made sure we knew the risks long before we stepped foot into that police precinct!”

Why does Dan say things? Why does he ever open his big stupid mouth? Disaster only ever follows.