Powered

“If you think about it, it’s not such a big deal.” I force my brain to remember all the logical explanations and excuses I had thoug

ht up on my walk back home. “It’s not like I killed a real human.”

“Training droids are designed to have flesh, a beating heart, and faces that show emotion. To blatantly murder one is to show a complete lack of humility for human life. I can’t even—” Dad runs his hands through his hair. “I fought for you to have the same opportunities as other Super children. But you decided to present the examiners with a neat little package of evidence that you should be depowered. This is exactly the sort of evil tendencies they would be looking for in you. What were you thinking?”

His words cut through me like ice. How dare he act as if I did this on purpose? I fold my arms in front of my chest. “I was thinking they are bias jerks for denying me the title I rightly deserve.”

“You do not speak of your elders that way.” Dad’s voice is sharp, as close to yelling as he ever gets. I’m grateful the couch is between us. Not that Dad would ever hurt me, but, sometimes Supers have difficulty keeping their anger from lashing out and shattering anything in its path. I should know.

“I have been on your side every day, Maci.” His lips break into a smile but his eyes are far away. He’s not smiling at me now; he’s smiling for what used to be. “From the second day of your life, when chaos and hate manifested in that hospital and took your sister and mother away from us, I have fought for you.”

His words inflict a serious blow on my heart and it isn’t from the power in his veins. We don’t talk about the unknown villain who attacked the hospital the day I was born. We don’t talk about Mom, the blonde beauty with bright blue eyes whom I’ve never met even though her picture rests on the mantle. And we never, under any circumstance, talk about my twin sister. I think we both like to assume that fate took the life of the evil twin that day. Because if fate chose the wrong twin …

“I fought for you to be allowed Hero training even when no one wanted to admit you. I fought for months in Central—late nights, bio testing—all to have the laws changed for automatic depowering of Super twins. I wanted you to have a normal life. I didn’t want to brand you based on a fifty-fifty chance.”

“And I’m grateful,” I interject, only to have my words wiped away with a wave of his hand.

“You are my daughter and I love you. As president, I must uphold you to stricter values than the rest of the Super race. You let me down, Maci.”

“I’m—” I sigh and stare at the floor. Apologizing now wouldn’t mean anything.

“This isn’t all bad news.” Dad abandons glaring at me and grabs a soda from the fridge. “I spoke with Hugo before you got home. I asked the board to reconsider.”

Suddenly the floor isn’t so exciting anymore. “What did they say?” The words spill off my tongue sounding like one four-syllable piece of gibberish.

Dad inhales and gives a little shrug, drawing out his answer an agonizing five extra seconds. “They will reconsider Hero status and give you an answer in seven days.”

“Dad-thank-you-thank-you-dad-you’re-the-best.” Another seven syllable smooshed-together mega-word as I throw my arms around his neck. He laughs and pats my back.

“And the good news is they’ve agreed to keep you in a sub-Hero department if they decide on Hero status.”

“Sub-Hero department?” I try to say it with a smile on my face because I’m a team player worthy of Hero status, but disappointment seeps through.

“A sub-Hero job is the next best thing, Maci.” Dad’s stern, I’m-the-President-I-know-what-I’m-talking-about, look comes back. “I’d say you’re getting off pretty good for killing a droid.”

“You can overrule this you know. You’re the president.”

He glances at the TV which has been idly on, tuned to a human football game. He watches as a member of a team called the Texans scores a touchdown in slow-motion replay mode. “I did overrule. I got them to reconsider.”

“But Dad!” The mature and responsible part of my personality cringes, but the little kid inside of me pushes it away. “They’re going to make me a Retriever.” I roll my eyes so fast my eye sockets hurt. “I’ve worked really hard in training to be a Hero. I deserve Hero.”

“You do deserve it. But I’m afraid you’ll take what you get.”

“Surely you can change their mind.” My fingers twist and flex. My heart shreds into a thousand pieces, making the swollen gash on my face feel like candy and rainbows. “I want to help people. I need to help. I’m better than Retriever level, Dad.”

The television volume increases. Dad’s attention is solely on the game now. “The examiners will review your files and make their decision. I’m done talking about this.”

My hands form fists at my sides. Every member of the Super race contributes an important part to society and Heroes are only a small fraction of Supers. I should be happy, grateful even, if the examiners make me a Retriever. My only other options would be to find a boring job in Central or marry and become a housewife.

That’s fine for most Supers, but I’m not like everyone else. I have the strength of my brother and the reflexes of my dad. Despite my twin chance of being evil, I’d like to think I have my mother’s love and compassion for people. If the entire Super race wants to think I’m the evil one, then let them. It’ll just make my victory even sweeter when I prove I’m a true Hero.

Colors dance across the television. The sportscaster goes on and on about how the team has really proven themselves this year. The human gives me an idea. I’ll prove my worth. I’ll figure out a way to change their minds in the next seven days.

“I’m going to be a Hero,” I announce as my fingernails cut into my palms.

Dad nods while watching the screen. “Or sub-Hero, which is just as honorable.”

He may have given up too easily, but I won’t. “No thanks, Dad. I’d rather die than be a Retriever.”