Alec did not sleep for the remainder of that night. He had lain awake all through the period of darkness, listening to the sound of the rain that had blown in earlier, pounding against the walls. His heart was quite steady as he lay in bed, curled beneath his sheets and staring up at the shadowy ceiling, but his mind was racing. . . . He had done it, he had said yes. . . .

Mrs. Lewis — or Headmistress Lewis, as he would now have to call her — had not smiled at his answer, nor had she shown any sign of pleasure at the prospect of securing a new addition to her school. On the contrary, she had drawn herself up to her fullest height and said, her voice sharper and more businesslike, “Very well. The new school period begins two days from now, but as it is, I must insist that you arrive by tomorrow. That way we can get you registered and accomodated as quickly as possible.”

“Tomorrow?” Alec gasped, staring, horrorstruck, at his parents, who looked shocked as well.

Headmistress Lewis, however, raised her eyebrows. “Yes, tomorrow,” she said, sounding impatient. “I believe I just explained to you the dangers of you remaining here, where there are civilians you could unwittingly harm?”

“Well, yes, but —”

“As well as the fact that the new school term begins very soon, and you have not been registered or categorized? Did you believe that you would be starting next month? Next year, perhaps?”

“No! I just . . . didn't think it would be so soon,” he finished quietly. There was a short, uncomfortable silence. Then Mrs. Lewis sighed.

“I am sorry,” she said, and Alec thought he heard earnestness beneath her crisp tone. “But this is what's best, for everyone.”

Alec sighed as well. Then he nodded. “Okay,” he said miserably. “Where is this school, anyway? How am I going to get there?”

“The Academy is situated on a remote island out at sea,” the Headmistress said. “You need not worry about specifics; my companion, Hartley” — she nodded towards her bald quarry — “will return tomorrow at noon to take you there. Please ensure that you are ready by that time. Now —” She beckoned to Hartley once more, and to Alec’s surprise, he strode towards Dusty and flung out a meaty arm; seizing him by the neck of his shirt, he held him steady as he pulled a long, thick, black device tipped with a small bulb from the pocket of his suit and held it over Dusty’s head.

“What —” Dusty gasped.

“Stop! What are you doing?” Alec shouted.

“Helix Academy is a secret institution, Mr. Michaels,” Headmistress Lewis told him calmly. “Its existence and whereabouts can only be shared with students, staff, their families or caretakers, members of the League, and very few trusted allies. If that knowledge were to be leaked into the world, there would be catastrophic repercussions — not least the involvement of the media and undoubtedly sinister plots by villains.

“As it is, Mr. Williams will have to have the memory of this encounter erased from his mind. But don't worry, the process won't hurt at all,” she added, in what she must have assumed was a soothing, reassuring kind of voice.

“You can't!” Alec said. “He's my best friend, he deserves to know!”

Mrs. Lewis ignored him and motioned to Hartley to proceed.

“He won't tell anyone!” Alec shouted. “He — he'll keep the secret! I know he will, Mom and Dad know he will! Right, guys?” He turned beseechingly towards them. They looked rather apprehensive, but as Mrs. Lewis turned to them they nodded vigorously.

“We trust Dusty,” Mr. Michaels said. “We will vouch for him. He'll keep the secret — we'll ensure he does.”

Mrs. Lewis glared at him. Then she sighed dramatically. “Oh, very well,” she said, waving a dismissive, impatient hand at Hartley; he released Dusty at once. “But make no mistake, Mr. Williams,” she went on slowly, her eyes hard beneath her glasses as she watched Dusty smooth the front of his shirt, “should you breathe a word of anything you have heard tonight to anyone at all, both you and the family who vouched for you, will face the consequences.”

Dusty swallowed, then he nodded. Mrs. Lewis’s eyes moved onto Alec’s parents, and they nodded as well.

“I think we should call it a night,” Mrs. Michaels said hurriedly, in a glaringly transparent attempt to break the nasty silence that ensued. “Alec and Dusty have had a long night, and as it's very late, I'm sure Dusty’s mother is very worried.”

“Very well,” said Lewis. “Mr. Williams, with us please. We shall escort you home. Marsha, Kenneth.” She nodded to Alec’s parents. “And you, Mr. Michaels,” she added to Alec, fixing him with a beady eye, “I shall be seeing you very soon. Good night to you all.” The three heroes turned and swept from the room and Dusty, after a quick, nervous glance at Alec who gave him a reassuring nod and wave, followed them. The door closed, and they heard the faint snapping sound that signaled Jumper’s teleportation.

“Well, I think I'll go to bed,” Alec said quickly, and he rushed upstairs, not giving his parents a chance to comment and averting his eyes as he scurried away.

The rain had stopped by morning, and watery rays of sunlight came streaming into the room through Alec’s window, illuminating the shadowy corners. Alec got up very slowly. Hours and hours passed, and though his stomach rumbled in protest, he did not leave his room, even for breakfast, but merely stayed where he was, packing what he thought would classify as essential for his trip so as to be ready for Hartley’s imminent arrival. What exactly did you need for superhuman training? He had not, after all, received any form of booklist.

However, his thoughts were interrupted quite soon by a sudden outbreak of rapping on the door; it swung open before he could respond.

“Alexander, we need to talk.” It was his father, looking sternly over at him from across the threshold. “Your mother is already upset about this whole business, hiding from us isn't doing anyone any favours.”

“I wasn't —” Alec protested feebly, not meeting his eyes, but Mr. Michaels cut across him.

“If this is to be our last day together for however long, would you mind actually talking to us?”

Alec felt both ashamed and angry with himself. His father was right: he was being stupid. “I'm sorry,” he sighed.

“It's all right, son, we understand that this is hard for you too. Just — come down here with me for a second.”

Alec followed him downstairs, and as he entered the living room, found his mother and Dusty waiting for him.

“Finally,” Dusty muttered, grinning. “Were you really going to hide all day?”

“What's going on?” Alec asked, ignoring this.

His father took a deep breath. “We just wanted to say,” he began, “that we're all proud of you for stepping up, Alec. . . . We will miss you, but we understand why you need to go. And we want you to know that we love and support you, completely.”

Alec felt his eyes burning. It was clearly taking all his mother's willpower not to dissolve into tears again, and though his father tried valiantly, Alec still caught the quiver in his deep voice, but they were trying to remain strong, for him, and he appreciated it more than words could describe in that moment. He walked forward and embraced them in a tight hug, and they responded just as vigorously, pulling him in firmly. How long they stood like that, Alec wasn't sure, but they leapt apart at the sound of a car approaching.

“This must be him,” Mr. Michaels said grimly, and sure enough, it was Hartley who stood nodding in at them when the door had opened.

“Ready?”

“Yes, my suitcases are upstairs,” Alec said.

“We'll get them,” said Mr. Michaels.

Hartley went back outside as his mother and father went up to gather his luggage, leaving Dusty and Alec alone. Alec cleared his throat awkwardly. “Listen, Dusty —”

But the rest of his sentence was lost as Dusty flung his arms around Alec, pulling him into a hug and patting him roughly on the back. Alec, though shocked at first, relaxed, then returned the hug just as fiercely. They remained like that for a while. Then they heard footsteps coming down the staircase and broke apart. “Give em hell, Alec,” Dusty said, with a crooked grin.

Alec nodded, then his mother and father appeared at the foot of the stairs. All four of them marched out to meet Hartley, and when the luggage was packed in, Mrs. Michaels swept them in for one last, long hug.

“Goodbye, son,” Mr. Michaels said, with a brave attempt at a smile. “We'll see you soon.” Beside him, Dusty’s grin sagged a little, and his mother was crying again. Alec waved, then entered the car, and he watched as Hartley pulled out of the driveway, until they were out of sight, and finally they were streaking off down the road.

They rode on in silence for several long hours, Alec with an uncomfortable knot in his chest. Hartley kept his eyes, masked by his dark glasses, trained on the road for the entire journey, paying absolutely no attention to Alec whatsoever, and his aura of quiet menace made it difficult for Alec to initiate conversation. Nevertheless, after three straight hours of watching old buildings and greenery flash by the window, he was starting to get rather bored.

“So,” he began, and already he regretted speaking, “are you a — er — superhuman too?” Alec, of course, already knew that he was, despite never having seen him use any abilities, but it was the only thing that occurred to him at that moment.

“Yes,” Hartley said; his voice was rather high-pitched for a man of his figure. Somehow, the sound detracted from his threatening aura. Alec wondered if that was why he didn't speak often.

“And did you study at Helix too?”

“Yes.”

“What's it like?”

“What's it matter?” said Hartley. “You'll see it soon enough.” Though his voice remained cool as he spoke, Alec got the distinct impression that he was rather annoyed now, and lapsed into silence. Hartley did nothing to reinitiate conversation. But then, quite suddenly, he veered from the main road and down a winding, grassy, earthen trail. They continued on it for a few minutes, Alec still silent, though feeling both curious and rather apprehensive now. Then Hartley pulled the car to a halt, and further ahead, in a wide clearing, Alec could see a gleaming helicopter with shining silver blades, branded with the same large, ornate H as Wildfire’s communication device.

They exited the car, and Alec watched as Hartley piled his luggage into the helicopter, then beckoned him towards it. As he entered, Hartley tossed him a pair of noise-drowning earmuffs, and he placed them over his head.

“Seatbelt,” Hartley said, and Alec pulled the strap over his chest; he sat back in his seat, waiting in trepidation, and the helicopter blades whirred into life. Alec closed his eyes, trying to block out the grating sound as best as he could, and opened his eyes as he felt the copter rise into the air and streak forward.

They glided over a vast, glassy expanse of water, glittering in the soft, evening light. The view was glorious, and only became more so as they journeyed onwards. Hours still had passed in the air, night was very close to falling, and Alec, resigned now to the fact that they would not reach their destination anytime soon, made to doze off, when Hartley actually spoke again.

“There it is.”

Alec jerked upright at once, all trace of sleepiness gone. He gazed through the windshield and down to where Hartley was pointing. It was a small island, almost completely forested, but as they drew nearer, Alec was able to make out a large, magnificent building standing in the center, a superb expanse of architecture, with gleaming, silvery-grey walls, and the same large H upon the roof, though decorated slightly differently.

Hartley veered downwards, coming in for a smooth landing; then he beckoned Alec out of the chopper. “Come on, kid,” he said, and he actually grinned. “Let's go get you registered.”